allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

tw: internalized transphobia, just a genuinely disheartening reflection on my trans experiences

sometimes i feel genuinely delusional because my insides don’t match my outsides at all. like me being trans is some sick delusion that no one else will ever see because to them i’ll always be a girl. a daughter. a sister. an ex-girlfriend. it feels like everyone who refers to me using the right name and pronouns is just humoring me, during a phase they’re sure i’ll get out of soon. the worst part of it is the feeling of others knowing you better than you know yourself; which, is impossible, but you always wonder if they’re right. if it is a phase or a trend or a thing you’ll get over in a few months. like it hasn’t consumed your every thought, as you pray for some relief that comes in the forms of buying a new pair of pants or being called “handsome”. it’s horrible being trans. i’m tired of pretending that it’s not. it is a horrible experience for the person affected, but that isn’t because there’s anything wrong with it. ever since birth, you have been conditioned to think a certain way about yourself, and when you realize who you actually are, that all crumbles. and every day from then on you have to fight against the lies about gender and sex and sexuality you’ve been told from birth. it is so exhausting. god made a mistake when he gave my mother a daughter. or, if he did give her a daughter, it never should’ve been me. i’m not cut out for the job.

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

y’know i’m not the type of guy to kink shame usually but how do you have a diaper fetish. those motherfuckers are so uncomfortable 😭😭😭 the chafing and the itching and the wanting to die….

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

y’all this guy i’m talking to mixed up the Renaissance period and the Victorian period… he’s cute as fuck but idk man… /lh

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

the usual deep yearning feeling in the pit of my stomach is gone. it has been replaced by an immediate and intense hunger for her that i fear may never go away.

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

want to turn my gf into a witch

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

just said goodbye to my girlfriend after she stopped by my house and i’m crying like she’s going off to war or something

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

On the topic of English people being shitheads towards Welsh people - This fucking dude today on AITA

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

Learning to be less reactive is literally saving my life. I’m finally understanding that processing things is not the same as immediately forming a response to them. I can process without feeling pressed to formulate a reaction to what someone said or did or a situation that displeases me. Not that a quick head on your shoulders is necessarily a bad thing, but 9/10 taking a minute to just process could save you so much trouble

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

tboys with tranny voice i love you tboys whose voices go up when they excited i love you tboys whose speaking mannerisms are girly i love you tboys with faggy voices i love you. it is the trannyfag right to be proud of our voices as they are. tranny voice is a gift from god actually

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

Fuck hostile architecture, I want unhostile architecture. I want benches to be designed to be as easy as possible to sleep on. I want little places for pigeons to nest to be purposefully put on buildings. I want people designing public spaces to think about what they'd be like to skateboard on. I want "Please loiter" signs. I want people to be kind. I want...

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

from a brown person...... whiteness does rot your brain. white people do not and never have had to even consider a world in which they are not privileged. they don't see their privilege because that's just normal to them. that's just the way life works. it's not obvious unless you don't have that privilege. and there are plenty of white people who are aware of that and do the active, constant work to continue being aware of their blind spots, but it is active, constant work. it isn't something you can just stop caring about at some point because you think you're "antiracist enough". it's work and it will always be work and there are a lot of people who get scared off or disheartened by having to do that work and sink into the comfortability their white privilege affords them (literally seen people throw fits about how bleak/doomerist this concept is. like. sorry? y'alls ancestors spent centuries oppressing my people. that's more important than your feelings about how hard it is to be a good person lmfao). that's how i see whiteness rotting people's brains

^^^

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

On my knees begging pleading for at least some of you all to understand that it's up to a trans man to define his own connection to womanhood or lack thereof and determine for himself whether or not he feels it is appropriate to define himself using traditionally female language and communities and whether or not he feels it's appropriate for him to be in a "woman's space." Some trans men aren't men. Some trans men are women. If you can't respect that, I don't trust you around trans men.

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

dude nearly every source on ur "transandrophobia faq" is tumblr posts 😭 how tf do ppl take u seriously. bet ur gonna try and turn this around and say it's cuz trans mascs arent allowed in academia or some shit.

as we all know tumblr posts are incapable of having any intellectual content

[allergic-to-thoughts-of-mother]

Mustarjil is an Arabic term meaning “becoming [a] man.” Although it can be used derogatorily to refer to women who are perceived as having a masculine appearance and/or mannerisms, in Iraq’s marshes, it existed as a gender identity. Within the context of the Ahwari community, Mustarjil was a common gender identity, where people assigned female at birth decide to live as a man after puberty, and this decision was generally accepted in the community. The Mustarjils were one of many similar third gender categories around the world, such as the Hijras in South Asia. [...] “One afternoon, some days after leaving Dibin, we arrived at a village on the mainland. The sheikh was away looking at his cultivations, but we were shown to his mudhif by a boy wearing a head-rope and cloak, with a dagger at his waist. He looked about fifteen and his beautiful face was made even more striking by two long braids of hair on either side. ln the past all the Madan (Ahwari) wore their hair like that, as the Bedu still did. After the boy had made us coffee and withdrawn, Amara asked, ‘Did you realize that was a mustarjil?’ I had vaguely heard of them, but had not met one before. ‘A mustarjil is born a woman’. ‘She cannot help that; but she has the heart of a man, so she lives like a man.’ ‘Do men accept her?’ ‘Certainly. We eat with her and she may sit in the mudhif. When she dies, we fire off our rifles to honour her. We never do that for a woman. In Majid’s village there is one who fought bravely in the war against Haji Sulaiman.’ ‘Do they always wear their hair plaited?’ ‘Usually they shave it off like men.’ ‘Do mustarjils ever marry?’ ‘No, they sleep with women as we do.’” Thesiger continues to narrate several other accounts of mustarjils within the same community, as well that of a “stout middle-aged woman” who wanted to remove her male organ in order to “turn into a proper woman.” Thesiger later mentions: “Afterwards I often noticed the same [person] washing dishes on the river bank with the women. Accepted by them, [she] seemed quite at home. These people were kinder to [her] than we would have been in our society.” Around that time, Britain was still living under the shadow of Victorian norms, and gender non-normative people were still stigmatized and shunned. Communities such as the Ahwaris, presented an alternative model that created space for communities like the mustarjils, despite the dominant gender binary. 

-- Recovering Arab Trans History: Masoud El Amaratly, the Folk Music Icon from Iraq’s Marshes by Marwan Kaabour