Why Transracial Isn't Comparable To Transgender

I think a lot of you have heard of Rachel Dolezal by now - the white woman who spent years in the NAACP, pretending to be black. She identifies as 'transracial' (a word stolen by white people from adoptees of color, btw) and a lot of racist transphobes have supporting this, making the claim that if one can change their gender, why not their race?

Here's why not:

1. Transracial identity doesn't go both ways. If it (in this post, I'm using it in the same way Dolezal thinks it's supposed to be used) were legitimate, there would be people transitioning to whiteness and receiving white privilege. But there's not, and don't bring up Michael Jackson. The man had a skin disease.

Trans men gain male privilege when transitioning and are often accepted as men. Trans women do not have male privilege while they are closeted and presenting male, as the 'womanly' aspects of their identities would still be shamed and they would still have grown up in a misogynistic society. But when trans women are out, they definitely don't have male privilege.

A relatively minor example - minor, that is, compared to trans women of color being murdered and young trans girls being kicked out of their homes - would be the sexual objectification of Caitlyn Jenner. Most of you have probably heard people joke about how pissed Kris probably is about Caitlyn's attractiveness (a beauty contest that neither woman consented to), or you've heard them ask what the point of being a woman is if one is not attracted to men (this is heterocentric, and for the record Caitlyn's asexual. I don't know if she's also homoromantic, but she has specified that she is not a lesbian). Men, even trans men, don't get those comments. Just the fact that trans womanhood is so much more sensationalized in the media than trans manhood is an example of misogyny; it is not considered shocking or scandalous to be a man.

But people of color, even if they said they were white, would still face racism. They would be mocked and belittled, and only decades ago they might have been lynched for it. But Rachel Dolezal, a white woman, does the same thing and is encouraged and applauded by her fellow white people. White people love to appropriate black culture, but if a black person likes rock music they are accused of acting 'too white.' How is this fair?

2. Transgender identity has been around for centuries in multiple cultures - look at the Two Spirits of Indigenous America, or the kathoey of Thailand, or the fa'afafines of Samoa, or the hijras of India. It is something that people all over the world, regardless of race, sexuality, religion, socioeconomic class, body type, or any other factor, experience.

The words that modern, western genderqueer people use to define ourselves - like genderfluid, for example - were born from the fact that white Christianity dominated our politics and cultures, and therefore our lives, for so long. We, for too long, hadn't had the ability to articulate our identities in any way that already existed in our cultures. We needed new words, so we made some up. That's how language develops; otherwise, we'd all still be grunting and howling incomprehensibly.

But transracial identity, as Dolezal and her racist, transphobic cronies define it, didn't really become a thing until a few decades ago at the most.

And...that's pretty much it. So, don't be a transphobic racist, 'kay? Transracial=/=transgender. Don't defend Rachel Dolezal, or any other white person who appropriates non-white cultures. Don't excuse them. And for the love of all that is good and holy, DO NOT conflate transracial with transgender.

My Journey

TW: butchphobia, homophobia, lesbophobia, transmisogyny, Christian supremacy, internalized queerphobia, arophobia, dysphoria, body part mentions, transphobia. heterosplaining, cissplaining, concern trolling, betrayal, rape discussion, sexual harassment, coming out, conversion therapy, suicide, abuse, bullying, hypersexualization, online harassment, brainwashing, gaslighting, acephobia, racism, misogyny, body policing, self-harm, homelessness, invalidation, bathrooms, pornography, profanity, sexuality, romance, biphobia, sapphobia, religion, panic attacks, self-hate, d-slur, q-slur, police brutality, medical neglect, slut shaming

Wow, it's officially been over a year since I started this blog. (And it's Pride Month again.) And in that time, I've come out five times...first as bisexual, then as pagan, then as genderfluid, then as aroflux (I finally found a better term for my romantic orientation than 'gray-panromantic'...which I don't think would work anyway, because lo and behold I'm not romantically attracted to men), then as gray-ace.

And honestly, I'm pretty sure that a lot of cishet readers started to take my comings-out (coming-outs? Outings?) as a joke around the time I revealed that I'm genderfluid. Which is pretty transphobic, really, and I'll probably yell at you all later for it.

But I think a big reason people haven't been taking me seriously is that they don't understand or think I'm just a confused teenager. And, hey, I might be. But, first of all, that's part of growing up. You figure yourself out and realize how you relate to the world. Second, there's no rule that says a person can't change their minds about the labels they use for themselves. Third, queer sexuality, (a)romance, and gender can be ridiculously complicated and orientations aren't static for everyone. Fourth, the concept of being straight and cis is just as strange to me as being genderfluid, gray-ace, gray-aromantic, bi, or any other kind of queer probably is to cishet people, or even some queer people.

 I can barely even write romance, and when I can, there's almost never a man (who is consistently a man; he could be genderfluid though) in the relationship because I've never gotten a crush on a guy (on the plus side, this means there's lots of lesbian, multisexual, asexual, nonbinary, and aromantic representation in my work!). If there IS a man, he can't be in a relationship with another man - I just don't know how to write that - and I have to write from the viewpoint of the man.

And sex? I've never even tried writing any kind of sex. Since I rarely feel sexual attraction, the little sexual attraction I do feel tends to be toward woman-type people, I can't really differentiate between sexual and aesthetic attraction to men, and I'm pretty much apathetic to partnered sex, my relationship with sex and sexuality has always been...unconventional, to say the least. It just never occurs to me to write it. If I ever write sex, I'll probably have to get inspiration from the M-rated section at Fanfiction.net (word on the geek street is, this is the only porn around that's actually somewhat realistic. Yet another reason we need feminism.), or go around interrogating allosexuals to figure out what their deal is. Which would be really funny, actually. I can see myself staring intently at someone with a very serious look on my face as they struggle to explain the appeal of genitalia and I'm dutifully taking notes like I'm in class.

Ahem. Back on topic. So, my queer journey. As the title says.

The first time I figured out something funky was up, I was probably about five or six years old. Thanks to Minnesota laws (because that's where I lived back then), I had to start kindergarten late in the year. Thanks to other stuff I don't really remember, I also had to go to day care a few days a week. And there was this kid I connected with in day care, a little squirt named Dawson something. That child was basically my best friend. As far as Dawson was concerned, I was essentially just another little boy. Which he was kind of right about, actually. I was a little boy - a little boy who was also a little girl. (Thanks to internalized cisheteronormativity, I also decided I was in love with the kid. But that's a whole 'nother story.) 

And that was why we connected so well. I didn't fit in with the little girls, what with my insistence that color had no gender and my love of 'boy toys' and the whole 'boys are icky!' thing that so many girls have gone through at some point. I didn't totally connect with the boys, either, since my girlhood was a huge part of me, too, and there are some things about being a girl that cis boys just can't relate to (or worse, have been taught to look down upon). Also, the little boys were just as grossed-out and confused by girls as the girls were by them. But, again, here I was. A girl who was also a boy, and for that reason I was not-icky enough for some of the boys (and also, some of the girls) to welcome me into their fold.

It was by hanging out with these boys, unconsciously studying them, connecting with them as one of the guys, that I realized - I really was one of the guys. Partially, anyway. And of course I decided to tell my dad about this. He was my hero, you know? My role model. I wanted to be just like him. And even eleven years after his death, I still wonder if he would accept and be as proud of his son as he might have been of his daughter.

But my dad was a Republican, a Catholic, and a middle-class white cis (and, I assume, het) guy. And this was the early-to-mid 2000s, which meant it was still essentially the nineties. Any USian queer person who remembers the nineties knows firsthand what an awful decade that was.

So Daddy Dearest had never been exposed to any kind of queerness before, and if he ever met any trans people besides me, he either kept it awful close or he just didn't know. Of course he had no idea what to do when his little princess announced that she was his little prince. No idea, that is, besides looking horrified, telling me I was wrong, and yelling "KATHLEEN, TELL OUR DAUGHTER SHE'S NOT A BOY!"

Now, I was a precocious kid. I knew that two adults together weren't going to take the word of a five-year-old at face value. And I thought that adults were 'smarter' than kids on pretty much everything. After all, they had the college degrees to prove it. So I decided to keep my mouth shut and tell my parents I was just kidding. And for a few years, I convinced myself that I really had been.

After my dad died, my mom and I moved back to Michigan. It only made sense - our family was here, and Daddy was the one who'd wanted to live in Minnesota in the first place. I joined the brownie troop at my new elementary school, and for the first time I really connected with other girls. It was Brownies, after all. And Girl Scouts of America is a fabulous and very feminist and wonderful organization for girls, but the enjoyment that I got out of it was that nobody cared if I acted like a boy, but I also wasn't disrespected for being like a girl. Most of us were tomboys, after all, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if one of my former troopmates were to also come out as transgender. 

I could get as dirty and sweaty as I wanted, I could cut my hair short, and I could wear masculine clothing. None of it was questioned - something that reminds me of Not Aiden, the trans man who writes the blog Not Another Aiden, actually. (It was Not Aiden - he chooses to stay anonymous because he's stealth - who helped me realize I was transgender in the first place, and that I didn't have to be hypermasculine to be valid, or even to have a totally even mix of masculine and feminine traits. After all, he's not only trans, he's, and I quote, "one of the most flamingly gay guys I know. The two who beat me are both cisgender and I figure if they can be camp then so can I." Well said, Not Aiden. Well said. And as long as I'm derailing my own post here, I just want to say that feminine trans guys are valid. Masculine trans girls are valid. Nonbinary people who aren't androgynous - even if they're butches who were assigned male or femmes who were assigned female - are valid. You're all valid and important. Screw gender roles. As long as you don't - shudder - call yourself trans for 'political reasons' or think it's some fad or a game to play on Tumblr, you're totally valid in my eyes and I will stand by you. No matter how neo your pronouns are, no matter how weird the name of your gender is or if you even can name it, no matter how you present, no matter what gender(s) you're attracted to or if you even are attracted to any, no matter what kind of medical procedures you do or don't want, you're valid. 'Kay, I'll get off my soapbox now.)

But the whole world wasn't a Girl Scouts meeting, and even at those meetings, there was something in the other girls that separated me from them and I'd never been able to put my finger on exactly what it was. After all, I took ballet, had a vagina, had mostly girl friends, and sometimes wore skirts - didn't that mean I wasn't a boy, even if I sometimes felt more like a boy than a girl? Even if, as my body started changing in fifth grade, everything just felt wrong?

Gender roles were a confusing thing, even to me. I liked skirts and dresses and Bratz sometimes, yes. But those things weren't for boys. Baggy shorts, short hair, and t-shirts were. That's what I'd always been taught and that's what I'd internalized. So I began to dress more masculine and seek out male friends to imitate, starting my transition at only nine years old, before I ever even heard the word transgender.

I also got my first crush in elementary school, too. My mother thinks it's a boy named Ryan in the fourth grade, but looking back, I think the situation was more like what I'd had going with Dawson. Ryan just saw me as one of the boys, and I think on some unconscious level he knew that that's what I was. And he didn't shut me out for being part girl, like so many boys did at that age, because everywhere they turned, they were told that being like a girl was something shameful. I told myself I had a crush on him because I liked him as a person. Again, internalized heteronormativity and cisnormativity. After all, vagina=girl=attracted to boys and only boys, right? But I didn't like Ryan that way. I don't feel that I've ever been romantically attracted to any boy.

No, my first crush was at six years old. A girl who we'll call Anya. I met her in first grade and her desk was next to mine. Typical, little kid, one-sided puppy love, except that one of us was only a boy part of the time. And except for the fact that I didn't even know it was puppy love, because as far as I was concerned I was a girl and Anya was a girl and girls only liked boys and that was that. Gah, heteropatriarchy. It's a parasite and it will eat our souls.

Anyway. Moving on.

I don't even remember that much about Anya, besides that she had long blonde curly hair, her voice sounded fancy, she once invited me over to her house, and I kept getting butterflies around her and wanting to hold her hand. And that, when another little boy showed interested in her, I got jealous and chased the kid off the playground. I had a rivalry going with that boy up through the fifth grade, even though Anya left our school that year. At one point, we had the whole class taking sides (almost everyone sided with me, in case you're wondering).

I started dressing more femininely in the sixth grade, after the gossip and internalized queerphobia finally got to me. But it didn't always feel right, especially when I was on my period. And you have to realize, I was a fat kid. I bled heavily every time. I totally support trans people who are okay with their periods, but God the dysphoria was awful.

 I wrote a lot of short stories back then, with androgynous main characters. In retrospect, I'd been trying to write about other genderqueer kids without even knowing it. The old files are probably somewhere in my hard drive.

Sixth grade was also a milestone for me: it was the year I first heard the word transgender. Granted, the person whom I'd asked to educate me was Ella. You guys remember Ella? The Christian cousin I used to be friends with? Yeah, well, as you may have guessed, she's one hell of a lot more ignorant about queerness than she thinks she is (she once tried to convince me that some people had a 'mental disposition' and 'certain tendencies' that made them more vulnerable to Satanic influence and, therefore, more likely to be gay or BPQ. I don't speak Homophobe, but I can only assume this means my cousin thinks all women  - which in Ella's mind means vaginas - into women are masculine or androgynous, and all men  - which in Ella's mind means penises - into men are feminine or androgynous. Maybe this stems from the culturally and systemically enforced heteronormative belief that all non-hetero identities are pale imitations of the cishet "ideal". Who knows? Cishet people are weird like that. Whatever the case, it's actually really ironic, considering that not only am I queer, AFAB, and leaning somewhat more toward femininity on the androgynous spectrum, but her sister's best friend is an openly bisexual and very masculine boy, and this one gay man whom we have both known most of our lives - his family is friends with our family - looks like a lumberjack even though he's basically a big teddy bear. Ella's also been known to equate homosexuality to murder - no, she said it was worse than murder - thinks every single queer woman ever is attracted to her, is horrified by the thought of using the same public restroom as a trans woman, is convinced that there's a gay agenda, thinks that she "loves homosexuals but hates homosexuality", and would like to know why the MOGAI community isn't more tolerant of all this. I'm not even sure what the gay agenda is or how it's possible to love someone while denying them the same rights that you take for granted, but let's give my cousin a serious side-eye because this stuff is all skeevy af, everyone!).

Ella's definition of trans was - and is - "a boy who think he's a girl, or a girl who thinks she's a boy." That's what she said when I asked her. I'm not even kidding.

Wow. Well, in retrospect, she wasn't much more bigoted or ignorant than any other cis seventh grader. She's just a hell of a lot more bigoted and ignorant than most college students now (something that I think is a testament to our public education system and just one of many reasons that feminism is so necessary). And, Ella, if you're reading this, I'm going to be getting really pissy about you in this post. Frankly, you have treated me like crap, you seem to have no moral compass, you think it's okay to be totally disgusting to other people but expect them to not judge you, you appear to see LGBTQ+ people as less than human, and it's honestly amazing how little you know about how little you know. So if you don't like it, don't bother continuing. But I think you'll want to.

So, anyway, going by Ella's wildly inaccurate definition of transness, it's only natural that I didn't realize I wasn't cis until years later. But something I did realize about myself soon enough was that I liked girls as well as boys (when I say that I like boys, I mean I like them sexually, not romantically...at least, I don't think so. I've never gotten a crush on a boy, but gender has never been a big deal to me. I care less about that, at least in theory, than I do about a person's aesthetic attractiveness and personality). And that's a big reason I began dressing so much more femininely in my early teens. I thought I was a butch lesbian and that prospect horrified me. That's called butchphobia and it's horrible. It's also very prevalent, both in the lesbian community and outside of it.

Seventh grade was a really bad year for me. I developed fast, so I was dealing with all my body dysphoria at once. I'd started questioning my sexuality and trying unsuccessfully to convince myself I was getting crushes on boys when I wasn't actually getting crushes on anyone at all (I just found both boys and girls attractive and was sometimes turned on by boys and sometimes by girls, but very often I didn't feel attracted to anyone at all and I felt mostly apathetic toward sex) and hadn't since Anya. I couldn't hide my breasts, because I'd never even heard of a binder and didn't understand why I felt so uncomfortable with my body in the first place. I'd assumed it was because I was fat, or because all girls felt that way. (Another reason we need feminism.)

But as I grew older, I began to feel marginally more comfortable with my androgyny, dressing femme when I felt like it and tomboyish when I didn't. And I was still in denial about my bisexuality, even though I'd questioned it in middle school.

That facet of my identity was something that came to light and pretty much smacked me in the face when I was about fifteen. My sophomore year of high school, and also the year I fell for the new girl (not that I ever worked up the nerve to tell her). We'll call her...Cammie. My second crush ever, and a DFAB genderqueer bisexual. She was brilliant, a dedicated dancer with a 4.0 GPA. She was curious, a great listener, and willing to consider things other people never would have thought of. And she was damn near the only person I'd let call me 'pretty.' I almost fainted with delight when she did.

Even though I was romantically attracted to Cammie (and, I'll admit, slightly disappointed and jealous when she said that she had a crush on a guy we knew), I was usually happy fantasizing from afar. My desire for a romantic relationship with her fluctuated, I didn't really want to have sex with her, and I was almost relieved when I realized I'd lost feelings for her. The fluctuation of romantic attraction I've felt throughout my life - very often feeling none at all - is called aroflux. But I didn't know that yet.

And since we had mutual friends, coming out wasn't really a feasible option. I was so terrified they'd tell Cammie how I felt about her, and I'd had experiences that terrified me out of coming out.

I did make progress, though. I managed to squeak out that I was questioning. That was in a conversation with three mutual friends. Two of them came out as asexual that night, and a third was bisexual. (One of the other asexuals later revealed that she was a demigirl, and they both are aromantic.) Ironically, this took place at a Catholic conference. Called Rainbow.

Yeah, go ahead and snicker quietly to yourself.

A couple months after that, I had my first Day of Silence. Now, if you don't know what that is, I'll explain here. See, suicide and self-harm rates are really high among MOGAI youth. We face a lot of homophobic and transphobic bullying from our peers - I've even been sexually harassed by a group of cishet girls on my way home from school - as well as abuse from our families.

Did you know that approximately 40% of homeless youth are MOGAI? That's no coincidence. It comes from kids being kicked out when they come out to their parents, or running from something even worse than homelessness. Like conversion therapy, the practice of trying to make a queer person straight or a trans person cis through methods like forced conformity to gender roles, mental or spiritual manipulation, or physical pain. Thankfully, the use of conversion therapy on minors is being banned from the United States, but that progress doesn't fix everything.

And it can't bring back Leelah Alcorn, Melonie Rose, Blake Brockington, Taylor Alesana, or the many other queer and trans teenagers who have taken their own lives. But we can stop the body count from increasing.

That's what I was trying to do when I impulsively wrote a poem in honor of DoS and published it on my old blog, The Bronte Chix. Ella and her sisters saw it immediately and freaked out. I actually stated in the poem what Day of Silence was, so I'm not sure if they actually read it all the way through and had no respect for what it meant or if they just skimmed, saw the word 'gay', and ignored the rest.

My cousins tried to argue with me in the comments, but I couldn't really reason with them. I mean, it's sort of hard to use logic on people whose idea of morality is whatever the Bible tells them is right and whatever straight, cis, white, Christian authority figures have brainwashed them into believing. Anyway, at some point, they told me that they weren't homophobic...which is a load of bullshit as far as I'm concerned. Their reason for this belief, like that of pretty much every conservative Christian ever, is that they love homosexuals but hate homosexuality. Yeah, I'll believe that when they actually treat us with dignity.

Let me ask you something, ladies. If you love queer people - and it's not only homosexuals - why don't you seem to value our lives? Why do you compare us to murderers? Why do you think our liberation movement threatens your religious freedom, when it really doesn't affect you at all if other people are free to openly have sex, date, and get married to people who have their same genitals (this is actually not what homosexuality is, because gender is not genitalia, but you don't seem to comprehend this no matter how many times I explain it.)? Why don't you realize that, whether it's intentional or not, you're hurting people you claim to care about when you support antiqueer people, laws, and organizations? That you're putting our lives in danger? That you're putting my life in danger?

If you really care so damn much about queer people, why can't you respect your own queer cousin when I tell you that your concern isn't wanted or needed, and that you come across as creepy, brainwashed cult members when you try to "help" me? Or that you're actually really ignorant about us and you're being totally rude and invasive by violating our privacy and bodily autonomy?

Or do you not care?

And, just so you know, trans women are not trying to rape you or anything when they use the same bathroom as you - they're trying to avoid being raped. Using the bathroom or changing room can be really dangerous when you're trans. If you use the men's, you risk being attacked physically. If you use the women's, you risk the other occupants being irrationally afraid of you, harassing you, yelling at you, staring at your chest and genitals, and calling the authorities to have you removed. Since I'd been assigned female at birth, I do have some protection as far as bathrooms are concerned. But if I'd been assigned male, the chances of something happening to me would be so much higher. That's called transmisogyny, by the way (and the intersection of transphobia and misogyny that Freyja and I face for identifying partly, but not wholly, as women is called demimisogyny).

And trans people are not a threat to anything. From personal experience, we have more reason to be afraid of cis people than they do of us - especially in spaces where people will be partially or totally nude. So really, if you see a gender variant person in the bathroom or changing room, just leave them alone and let them do their thing. As the hashtag says, we just need to pee. If you actually love us as much as you claim, support our right to do so safely.

Moving on.

Once the heat over my poem seemed to have cooled, I decided to risk a post about LGBTQ history for Pride Month. And I'd been considering coming out in that post.

First, though, I figured I should probably ask permission first, because I shared the blog with my cousins and two other girls, both of whom were queer (but I hadn't mentioned this to my cousins). Which is ridiculous, as I'd done most of the work on the blog, had as much right to post on it as anybody else, half of us supported LGBTQIA rights, and at least two-thirds of us were queer (number four was an aromantic, gray-heterosexual, cis girl, but she didn't know that until several months later, when I showed her Aven).

But of course my cousins - mainly LiLi and Ella - were horrified by the idea and threatened to leave the blog if I tried to write the Pride post. They also concern-trolled me several times through email, often sending me Bible quotes, using my spirituality to manipulate me, and generally expressing their hatred for queer people...excuse me, for our sexualities. At one point, they even made a post all about their hatred of homosexuality, and anything they perceived as homosexuality, on our shared blog. Hypocritical, much?

I know that post was probably triggering for some of our readers - remembering it is triggering for me - so I apologize on my cousins' behalf. I hope they can eventually get the help they so desperately need. And I hope that someday, they'll apologize for their own actions.

I knew I deserved better than that, so I decided to make my own blog, where I could write whatever I wanted and be hella queer without offending anybody's Christian sensibilities...okay, I can't even say that without laughing. Sorry you were so horrified by the fact that I basically fart pride colors.

The blog would be amazing. It would be fabulous. It. Would. Be. So. Effing. Queer.

This is that blog, though it's evolved quite a lot since I first started it up last year in a fit of bisexual feminist fury, ready to battle homophobia like a little bike badass. I've become increasingly more feminist, converted to paganism, found family, friendship, and love among other queer girls, realized I was nonbinary, joined Skittlr, realized I was aroflux, realized I was gray-ace, joined Aven, come out several times, renamed the blog, acquired an underling (Hi, Freyja!), gotten two more crushes (once with an androsexual, bigender femme, and that crush faded really fast. I think it wasn't even a crush. And the other was on a queer cis girl, is partly platonic and partly romantic, and has not faded).

But enough with the spoilers about the Gay Women's Channel soap opera that is my life. We shall continue.

That first summer was...awkward, to say the least. I was living this weird double life where I was out (as bisexual) to the friends who actually cared about me, regardless of my sexuality or gender, but faking straightness and cisness in front of my family (and probably doing a really shitty job of it). The blog was where the two worlds met and waged war. I wrote about queerness, but was very careful to not mention that I was queer myself.

I had to walk on eggshells, trying to seek the approval and validation of people who didn't like me for me. I hadn't yet learned that the only person I owed love to, the only person who really needed to validate or approve of me, was myself. And that anyone who got in the way of that needed to get out of my life.

 At one point, I wrote a fanfiction that included an interracial, interfaith romance between a white androgynous bisexual Christian girl, Quinn, and a Latina, pagan femme lesbian, Cara. I talked to my family about the story, always very careful to not reveal that Quinn was a girl. I couldn't - they would have thrown a temper tantrum.

There were - and are - times when I got panicky and anxious that Ella was right about queer people and I really was angering God, sometimes feeling physically sick because of it. I know, it's ridiculous. And it's a sign that I should have cut her out long ago.

When I joined a Facebook group for feminists last July, I did so with the self-hating, puritanical mindset I'd internalized - the one that taught me sexuality was something negative, that my body was shameful, that my worth was contained in my relationships with men and others' opinions of me, that my needs were unimportant, that peace was more important than justice. Immediately, the other women in the group despised me. I don't blame them. I would have despised me too.

A big reason for that was Christianity. Now, I'm not saying that all Christians are bad or that my church was one of the bad ones. In fact, as far as Catholic churches go, it was pretty feminist. There were several non-Christian and openly queer kids, the youth group was diverse and welcoming, most of us accepted religious diversity, we held functions to help the sick and poor, and a woman of color was in charge of the youth ministry program. My friends and I were queer feminists, fighting the kyriarchy with our words and actions and calling out any oppression we found around us.

Most of the reason I internalized this mindset was because of my cousins. I don't blame them, though. They are victims, just as I once was. Just as so many Christians still are. I want to help them, because I'm angry at the system that took power and agency away from us.

But their influence on me needed to be confronted and torn down. Even in my darkest moments, I knew in my heart that they were wrong about homosexuality. Who knew what else they were wrong about?

I spent weeks educating myself by researching statistics and reading articles, eventually coming to the conclusion that I no longer agreed with Christianity. I couldn't believe that a loving God would damn innocents to Hell when many of them hadn't even been heard of Jesus - or that this God would condone the deadly evangelism used to convert them to Christianity.

I didn't believe in Satan - I thought he was just a scapegoat so people didn't have to confront their own sins and faults and could just blame those things on someone else, and a tool to control the masses to make them afraid of 'bad' feelings and desires that weren't. I didn't believe in hell or purgatory. I didn't believe Jesus had risen from the dead or was the Messiah. I believed in evolution and had no problem with sexual, romantic, gender, religious, and philosophical diversity or with abortion. And I had a few questions about God.

Why would God demand that pregnant people die rather than have an abortion that could save their lives? Why wouldn't God just make everyone demisexual, if He wanted us all to be chaste until marriage - while this isn't what demisexuality is, wouldn't it make the wait much easier? Why would He punish Eve for eating an apple, when He hadn't explained why she wasn't supposed to, or even given her the mental ability to know right from wrong? What was with this "He" thing, anyway? WHY CAN'T GOD BE A WOMAN?!

Now that I knew what I didn't believe in - and what was triggering me into moments of self-hate and self-destruction - I needed to focus on what I did. I still had great respect for Jesus, but the thought of what his followers had done to his legacy of love filled me with revulsion. I agreed with his philosophy of love and compassion, with selflessly offering assistance to those in need, with living life to the fullest. But those weren't ideals exclusive to Christianity. And other aspects of my spiritual beliefs - my conviction in sexual freedom, my awe of nature, my fascination with sexuality, my belief in giving others as much respect as they gave you, my passion for justice, my theory that God was nonbinary - fell more in line with paganism. I didn't really fall into any particular path, which is how I eventually found the label eclectic.

But I was also skeptical, logical, and scientific in ways that didn't really go well with religion. I demanded facts, sources, proof. I was analytical and critical, refusing to fully accept anything unless I had a good reason. I couldn't prove that a deity of any kind existed. Really, did I know anything about the celestial and supernatural? Did anyone?

For that reason, I also identify as agnostic. I acknowledge that I don't know what the truth is, but I know what my personal theories are.

And I knew that, what with the harassment and bigotry I'd faced from Christians as a nonbinary bisexual, the idea of calling myself a Christian repulsed me.

I'd face more bigotry soon enough. When I angrily posted on Facebook about a transmisogynistic robocall Michelle Duggar had made, Ella and LiLi closed in and made several disgusting, ignorant statements about trans women and LGBTQ people in general, once again using religion to gaslight and manipulate me. When I, again, tried to reason with them, they refused to listen. After comparing homosexuality to murder, saying that God didn't support "selfish" love, and assuming that queerness was based only on lust, Ella told me that gay people were just as intolerant of Christians, if not more, as I claimed she was toward us.

I just have to ask, Ella. This is just something I've been wondering for a few months now...you do realize some gay people are asexual or heterosexual (they would, in this case, be homoromantic and heterosexual), right? Queer identity isn't just about sexuality. And even if it were, even if literally everyone in the world was heteroromantic but not necessarily heterosexual, was cisgender, and was dyadic, even if we could only fall in romantic love with someone whose junk didn't match ours...what would be so horrible about consensual sex between two people with penises or two people with vaginas? Why is sexuality always considered such a negative thing? Why exactly do you care so much about other people's genitals, anyway? Why is the concept of bodily autonomy so horrific to you?

You say that you love queer people, that you feel concern for us.  I dare you to prove it. Prove it by respecting our privacy, by supporting sex education and health care that isn't heterocentric, by listening to us, by treating us as you would want to be treated. Prove it by loving us not as some creepy godly vessel on a mission to control...sorry, 'save' us...but as a human. I dare you to show us love as a human loving other humans, because that is what we all are and that is how everyone deserves to be respected. Don't support things and people that hurt us, like conversion therapy.

Do you realize there are politicians, not just in Russia or India or Uganda but right here in the US as well, that have said they would kill us all if they could get away with it? Do you realize that people who are supposed to protect us, like police officers and medical professionals, already have killed some of us and gotten away with it?

Do you realize how lucky you are, as a middle-class, able-bodied, cishet white Christian woman, that you don't fear being murdered or raped, as I and so many other queer women do? That this story, even though it's completely fiction, is actually very similar to what has actually happened to many lesbians, all over the world? That you know for certain you will never suffer the same fate as Penny Proud or Jessie Hernandez, as CeCe McDonald or Julie Decker, as Bri Golec or Lisa Trubnikova, as Britney Cosby or Crystal Jackson? Do you realize I don't have that same guarantee, but I still choose to be out because I deserve to live authentically and because I choose to fight for my queer siblings' right to do the same?

And don't compare our sexualities to murder; all that makes me think is that you lack a moral compass and that you would do far worse, including deliberately, physically hurting queer people, sex workers, and non-Christians, if you didn't fear hell.

Consensual sex, worse than murder? Honey. You really need to get your priorities in order. And stop treating sex as a sin; other people's sex lives are NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

Treat rape as a sin, if you want to focus on sexual sin. Because rape is the ONLY sexual sin. Be as disgusted by rape as you are now by queerness. Prioritize consent. Fight rape culture. Talk about Josh Duggar as hatefully as you would Ellen Degeneres - with one exception: DON'T pretend to love him. Treat Josh Duggar and every other rapist on the face of the Earth as the vile monsters they are. Pour your energy into that, and into validating and supporting their victims, and you might actually accomplish something real and positive.

And yes, I am intolerant of you. I do judge you, not for who you are but for how you act. I judge you for prioritizing fetuses over the people who carry them. I judge you for demanding religious freedom only for people who are basically carbon copies of yourself, while you deny it to everyone not like you. I judge you for favoring peace and quiet over justice, for wanting compliance and forgiveness when those things would only result in more suffering. I judge you for your hate and prejudice, even as you refuse to admit you have any. I judge you for assuming you have ANY place making decisions about other people's bodies. I refuse to be tolerant of that. As long as you hold these beliefs, I refuse to be tolerant of you.

I have one more thing to say to you, Ella. And to LiLi, too. I don't hate you. I pity you. You, by no fault of your own, surrounded yourself with people who encouraged and fed your ignorance. Questioning authority was discouraged. Sexuality - especially female sexuality and sexuality that differed from social norms - was taboo. Diversity and acceptance were squelched. I know this because I used to be a lot like you. And if I could change who I was back then, I would. I hope someday you'll realize why, and be angry at the system that took power, autonomy, and voice away from all of us.

Now. Let's continue.

By the end of that conversation, I was shaking with anger and with dark, self-hating thoughts. I knew they would continue and I refused to take any more abuse. I ordered Ella and her sisters to never contact me again unless it had something to do with our family; it was the only way to protect my mental health - and my physical health, too, because you can't have one without the other. When I wrote a blog post about what I'd experienced, a commenter (correctly) guessed I was queer and didn't want to come out. The comment shook me, so I lied for my own safety.

I did, however, make a post a few weeks later, revealing that I was bisexual. No one reacted negatively...not overtly and to my face, that is. But for those of you who did, fuck you. Don't think I didn't notice your biphobia and homophobia.

And here, I just want to say this to anyone in the closet: YOU DO NOT HAVE TO COME OUT. I chose to, but I had also been in a position where I had a support network, a chosen family, and ways to protect myself, had things gone south. Prioritize yourself. Your health and safety are important, and if coming out might endanger those things, you don't have to do it. If you just don't want to, you don't have to do it. No one is entitled to your identity; they shouldn't have assumed you were cishet in the first place.

I also came out publicly as bi in front of my classmates, when I had to give a speech about the American Dream and casually mentioned that one of my dreams was that I would have the right to get married, that my rights wouldn't be taken away at the word of a cishet Christian white man (*cough cough* the majority of the American government *cough*).

I found a family, forged from people who shared my blood and from people who shared my struggles and history. Other queer girls were a huge part of that. They were the sisters I never had (except for the one I fell in love with, of course) and understood me like no one else could.

I used music as a source of strength. I found the courage to come out again, as genderfluid and pagan, and later as aroflux and gray-ace. I learned about self-love. I made friends with another genderfluid, multisexual teenager, and we're starting a GSA next year at our high school. I made myself pride jewelry, visible symbols of the queer culture I'd learned to embrace. I figured out more of my own identity, carefully selecting the words I now use to describe myself.

Aroflux, gray-aromantic, and biromantic for my romantic orientation, to declare the fluidity of my attraction, my ability to love fully in ways that aren't always romantic, my rejection of amatonormativity, my frequent and predominant lack of romantic attraction, and my love for multiple genders.

Gray-ace, bisexual, and queer for my sexuality, to reclaim a slur and demand to exist, to reject the idea that sex was the height of everything, to say that it's okay to feel apathetic towards sex, to acknowledge both the sexual and asexual parts of myself, to make sense of my lack of sexual attraction, to say that I wasn't broken.

 Genderfluid, nonbinary, genderqueer, and trans, because I am both male and female and sometimes neither, because I transcend the label assigned to me at birth, because I break the social rules of gender with my very existence, because so many of my experiences are shared among my trans siblings everywhere, because I take pride in the history that shaped us.

This is my journey. I hope I can learn about yours, readers. Maybe we can learn from each other.

The Truth About Conversion Therapy

Pray the Gay Away - EXPOSED

This is Laci Green's video on conversion therapy. Please just watch.

Some Things Christian Conservatives Don't Know About Being Queer

 Because, contrary to what you seem to think, you do not know more about queerness than actual queer people.

1. Sexual and romantic orientation don't always match up.

Sexual orientation is, simply put, who you are sexually attracted to and interested in. If you are a woman who is sexually attracted only to men, or primarily to men and occasionally to nonbinary people, you are heterosexual. If you are a man who is sexually attracted only to men, or primarily to men and occasionally to nonbinary people (see number two), you are homosexual. If you are attracted to your own gender - or lack thereof - as well as at least one other gender, you are bisexual. If you are attracted to multiple genders but not necessarily your own, you are polysexual. If you are attracted to an infinite number of genders or gender doesn't matter to you in sexual attraction, you are pansexual. If you experience little to no sexual attraction or have little to no desire to be in a sexual relationship, you are asexual.

Romantic orientation is...basically sexual attraction, but instead of or in addition to being sexual, the attraction is romantic. A heteroromantic woman is romantically attracted only/primarily to men, a heteroromantic man is a man who is romantically attracted only/primarily to women, a homoromantic woman is romantically attracted only/primarily to women, a homoromantic man is romantically attracted only/primarily to men, a biromantic person is romantically attracted to their own gender and others, and so on and so forth.

It is therefore possible to, for example, be both aroflux lesbian and gray-bisexual, like me; or a lesbian and autochorissexual, like Freyja. It's also possible to be bisexual and heteroromantic or homoromantic, homosexual and heteroromantic or biromantic, asexual and panromantic, pansexual and aromantic, and so on and so forth.

And it's also possible to be heterosexual and homoromantic, heterosexual and biromantic, heterosexual and panromantic, and so on and so forth. In other words, it is in fact possible for a queer couple to have romance but not sex. Or sex but not romance. Or both romance and sex. Or, hey, maybe even neither sex nor romance (queer relationships are incredibly diverse). So next time you assume being queer is just about lust and selfishness (I have actually heard this before. Poor brainwashed Christian), you might want to consider that maybe, just maybe, they might actually be not sexually attracted to their same gender at all. And if they are? It's none of your fucking business. Pun intended.

2. Sexuality can be fluid and ridiculously complicated.

3. America is not a Christian nation. We do not have to give a damn what the Bible says.

4. Asexuality is not just about plants.

5. Platonic love is just as strong as romantic love, just as valid, and just as important. We live in a culture where romantic relationships (especially hetero ones) are promoted above platonic relationships as superior, the default, and more desirable. This hurts aromantic people, or aros, who are often called broken or told that they just need to find that magical 'special someone'...who will of course be the opposite of their perceived gender.

You know who that 'special someone' is for me? My friends and family. And I can't understand why anyone would consider my platonic love for the people in my life to be inferior to romantic love, something that baffles me and frankly seems like some sort of strange disease, when I would die for the people I love.

Yes, there is a girl I'm romantically interested in right now...but my feelings for her fluctuate between romantic-and-wanting-to-do-romantically-coded-things and platonic-but-still-wanting-to-do-romantically-coded-things. And neither my romantic feelings nor my platonic feelings for her are inferior. No one is required to be queer in a way that makes YOU comfortable.

So take your amatonormativity and heteronormativity and stuff it up your collective ass. Aros aren't interested.

6. There are femme lesbian and bi women and masculine gay and bi men.

7. Femininity does not necessarily connote womanhood. Masculinity does not necessarily connote manhood. There are feminine, androgynous, and masculine nonbinary people.

Only decades ago, pink was marketed as a masculine color while blue was feminine.

Only about two hundred years ago, lace was androgynous.

Before the 1950s and '60s, it was the norm in literature for straight, cisgender (non-trans) men to be emotionally open and to have close, intimate, platonic, nonsexual friendships with each other. Just like it's the norm in modern literature for cishet women today.

There are still countries around the world where cishet men wear flowers and dresses, and no one thinks of them as not 'real men.'

Therefore, contemporary Western gender roles are completely arbitrary. There is no such thing as 'women's clothing' or 'men's clothing.' There is only clothing. Clothing's only gender is that of the person wearing it.

8.There are trans lesbians (women who were assigned male at birth and who are attracted, sexually, romantically, or both, to women and feminine folks) and trans gay men (men who were assigned female at birth and who are attracted to men and masculine folks).

9. Polyamory is, in fact, a traditional form of relationship. Even by Biblical standards. Seriously. Look in that thing. Your singular 'one cishet man/one cishet woman' definition of a loving relationship or marriage is ridiculous and hypocritical.

10. "I'm worried about you" is not a compliment. Concern trolling is not a compliment. Trying to 'save' us is not a compliment. Not respecting our preferred pronouns and names, in the case of trans and genderqueer people, is not a compliment.

What you're doing when you tell your queer loved one - and it's almost certain that you have one - that you "worry" for their soul is saying that the way they are isn't good enough, isn't satisfactory, is unsettling...for you. What you're doing when you email Bible verses to their Gmail or spam their Facebook account is telling them not only that you honestly believe these things will happen to them if they don't conform to your expectations, but that you think they deserve it. What you're doing is ensuring that they will almost pass out from a panic attack the first time they tentatively come out, even to someone they trust and love; that they will sometimes have dark moments in which they hate themselves and irrationally wonder if you were right the whole time; ensuring that they will self-harm; that they, like Leelah Alcorn, might walk out into the street and allow themselves to be run over because whatever happens after death has got to be better than living in a conversion therapy-, abuse- and harassment-induced hell on Earth. What you're saying is that they are disgusting, demeaning, less than human.

When you teach someone to hate themselves, it's going to have some pretty nasty effects.

Just ask Leelah.

11. 'Loving homosexuals but hating homosexuality' is still homophobia.

It doesn't matter that you just want to help.

It doesn't matter that you just want to save them.

It doesn't matter what your intent was.

What matters is what actually happens.

Now shut up, walk away, and try to empathize. Before you have their blood on your hands.

12. We know ourselves and our lived experiences better than you do. Trust what we say about our identities, because we sure as hell know more than your straight, cisgender parents and straight, cisgender pastor and everything you have ever read or heard that says we are sinful or disgusting.

13. Teresa Siagatonu, Denise Frohman, Wonder Dave, Ollie Renee Schminkey, Sierra DeMulder, Wyatt Kat Fleckenstein, and Chad Michael have something to say to you.

14. So does Macklemore. (There's a line in here that's a bit amatonormative, but he has a point.)

15. And lastly, there is, in fact, a queer agenda: equality.

Dear Cishet Boy

This poem was inspired by all the crap queer youth face from our cishet male peers, as well as the violence queer people (especially trans women of color) face from cishet men.

Dear Cishet Boy

Dear cishet boy, get over yourself.

You are not a sex god.

That lesbian is never going to beg for your dick.

She's not interested, not in any guy -

It's not that she just hasn't had sex with YOU.

Your genitalia ain't magic, son.

Dear cishet boy, making fun of gay guys is not amusing.

It's not a joke.

It's not a game.

And the so-called faggot

That you think is hitting on you?

He's not. So shut up.

Dear cishet boy, trans people are not confused.

We're not tr*nnies, crossdressers, or sick.

We're trans.

You're confused.

Dear cishet boy, we don't give a damn if you're Christian.
Some of us are Christian too,
And from the ones that aren't?
God doesn't hate us. You do.
We may not be able to change your beliefs,
But you need to understand that your religious freedom
Ends with you.

Dear cishet boy, trans women are not tricking you.
They're not trying to 'turn you gay' or lying or pretending,
Faking, drag queens. They are not obligated to disclose,
As if they were not real women. Trans women are REAL WOMEN.
Their bodies simply look a little different than a cis woman's,
But why should that matter? They are beautiful.
All bodies are beautiful, worthy of love and praise,
Worthy of so much more,
So much more than the tragedies, the violence, your fellow men
Subject these women to.
And we shall forever remember their names.

Dear cishet boy, WE ARE PEOPLE.
We are people in all our rainbow glory,
Transgender, bisexual, lesbian, gay,
Ace, pan, aro, nonbinary.
We are PEOPLE.
We are VALUED.
We are BEAUTIFUL.
Every color of the rainbow and then some.

Dear cishet boy,
Our queer siblings have been murdered,
Slandered,
Misgendered,
Beaten,
Raped,
All of these by people like you.
They have bled, they have cried,
They have died.
But we will survive
And we will forever remember their names.

Using Transphobic Slurs Is Not Respectful (TW: transphobia, cissexism, dysphoria, and slurs)

It's about fifteen minutes before my first class starts, but I just had to write this.

A bunch of people in the geek scene at my school - yes, we have a geek scene and yes, I am in it (actually, a lot of trans people are geeky or nerdy, simply because geek and nerd "culture" is pretty accepting of misfits on the whole)  - were talking about weightlifting.

My (cis male) friend Jordan: You can lose like twenty to thirty pounds in three days with weightlifting.
A cis girl named Elena who I kind of know but not really: Noooo! My mom and I tried that and we just bulked up.
Jordan: Well you have to run afterward.
Elena: It's different for you. You're a guy. We have different genetic...you know...
Jordan: Genetic codes?
Elena: We just end up looking like...like he-shes.
Me (annoyed): He-shes?
Elena: Yeah, you know, they look like a guy when they're really a girl. Or they look like a girl when they're really a guy.
Me (pointedly): You mean they're transgender. (sighs, disgruntled) I have scholarship stuff to work on.

And then I left, knowing that if I spent one more moment around this girl, she'd end up making even more micro-aggressions and I'd lose my temper and scream at her.

To clarify, I think it was rather obvious that I'm genderqueer. I have an awesome new androgynous pixie cut that can look masculine when I want to look masculine, and feminine when I want to look feminine. The jeans I was wearing were relaxed-fit boyfriend cut, a style beloved by many in the genderqueer community for its androgyny and ability to minimize leg, hip, and butt curves. My graphic t-shirt (it has a tent logo across the chest and the words chat room underneath), which was layered over a sports bra and three tank tops, came from the men's section, and I had the sleeves on my hoodie rolled up because I'd heard it helped to distract from breasts (I don't have a binder, but with all the effort I put it, those things damn well better have at least looked like large, well-defined pecs).

I mean, sure, a lot of the geekier girls at my school tend to go for a more tomboyish style, but most of them don't actually have any real desire to not look like girls. They just don't care what other people think. None of them looked like me, actively trying to make their hair, bodies and faces look more masculine on some days but liking dresses and jewelry and makeup on others.

Now, on with the post as I explain what is so wrong with he-she - though in a fair world, I wouldn't even have to.

Trans men are not women. They are men. Regardless of what is between their legs or what they are trying to conceal under binders, hoodies, undershirts, whatever, they are men. They are hes. Trans women are not men. They are women. They are shes.

And above all, trans people, whether binary or not, are people. We aren't he-shes. We're not liars or pretenders or monsters - we're just ourselves. We have our own identities, our own experiences, our own lives. We expect that to be respected. We deserve to be respected. Our rights, our humanity, our safety...those things aren't up for debate.

But when cis people use transphobic slurs or refuse to respect our pronouns or out us without our permission, they're saying, "I don't respect you. I don't consider your identity valid and even if I've only just met you, I know you better than you know yourself. And even if I do know you, I still don't respect you. I don't consider your privacy or feelings valuable, even if I'm related to you."

And that's not cool. So. Cis people, let's lay off the he-shes, transvestites, shemales, and trannies, mmkay? Because while you may not understand our identities, they are just as valid as yours.

Why I Will Not, In Fact, "Express Gratitude For People Who Are Patriots"...Even Though My Dad Was One

I'm a seventeen-year-old high school junior. I'm also bisexual, genderfluid, pagan, neurodivergent, and female.

That first part means that I'm applying to college.

The rest of it means I have a bone to pick with conservatives - you know, the people who have denied me the right to worship freely, the right to get married to anyone but a "man" (meaning, someone with a dick...even if "he" is actually female), the right to safe medical care, the right to not be discriminated against in the workplace, the right to live my life without being harassed, the right to control over my own body, and even the right to live.

So when my Republican parents - including my mom, whom I am by the way out to as a lesbian as of yesterday, despite her insistence that I need to "be sure that this is what I'll really want for the rest of my life before I make a choice like that" -  found a conservative scholarship online, they decided that I was going to write it.

No. No. I will never be conservative, and I will not pretend I'm something I'm not even for a scholarship. I get that money is tight (according to my parents, even though we're actually a lot richer than so many kids even at my school), but I will not do anything that "promotes conservative values" and talks about "what it means to be an *cough white straight cis enabled male Christian cough cough* American". Because according to way too many of those Americans, my sexuality and gender - not like they'll actually deign to learn the difference between the two - are not valid and come from the "devil."

I have made it as clear as I possibly can to my mom that I'm queer without actually having sex with a girl in front of her or something. There's no way she can't know how conservatives have denied me - denied her as a woman - so many fundamental rights. The way so many of them believe our personhood is up for debate. I don't understand how any marginalized person could support that kind of ideology, but I don't have to be a part of it and I will fight it. I am a person and just as deserving of equality as those who have stripped my rights from me.

And then my mom, after I snapped at her that I was liberal and always would be, pulled the Dad card.

You see, my biological father was a conservative and a member of the military. He loved Ronald Reagan, collected Republican political pins, went to church every Sunday and dragged a hyperactive little kid along with him. I don't know if he was queerphobic, and it breaks my heart that he might very well have seen his own child as...something horrible...might even have placed me in the abusive, psychologically damaging atrocity that fundamentalist Christians have the nerve to call "conversion therapy". But until I die myself, I will never know for sure if he would have done any of that.

He died when I was six, before I ever knew that not every relationship has one man and one woman. That not everyone falls neatly into the categories of "man" and "woman." And when I was five years old and tried to tell him I was transgender without having any words for the way I felt, he told me I was confused. Had he been alive today, he may very well have ended up changing his ways - if not for his own sake or anyone else's, then for my sake. But I'll never know.

I can live my own life to the fullest. I can love myself exactly as I am, and empower other people who are disrespected in the ways I am or in ways that I am not to love themselves and to be loved by others. But sometimes, knowing that my dad may very well have been prejudiced against important parts of my identity makes it really hard to do that.

Which just makes it that more screwed-up that my mother brought my dead father and his military service into the conversation. That's messed up and disrespectful and absolutely not okay.

She insisted that I write this conservative essay, promoting the views of people who don't think I deserve to be viewed a a person, as a gesture of gratitude to the Armed Forces, because "People RISK THEIR LIVES AND DIE for this country! You will express gratitude for people who are patriots!"

No. No I won't, because even if my dad was one of these people, I will never be. White, Christian, straight, cis, and enabled isn't what America looks like. In my eyes, that's not what it means to be an American.

Our Health is More Important Than Your Religion

In one of the LGBT+ groups I'm a member of on Facebook, someone shared this article.

I know. I'm pissed too.

Religious freedom? What complete bullshit. How is it freedom and equal protection under the law, like the Constitution says all Americans are supposed to have, like everyone in the world should have, if I and so many others like me might die because it's supposedly okay for members of a religion that a lot of us don't even agree with to neglect our medical needs in the name of their religious freedom?

 Was it 'religious freedom' when autistics and accused witches and homosexuals and heretics were burned or hanged or tortured for hundreds of years in the name of Christianity, and are likely still today? Was it religious freedom when Black lives were completely devalued, their bodies destroyed and beaten by brutal slavery, because White Christians felt that Blacks were somehow inferior to them? When an autistic boy died because a preacher knelt on his chest while trying to exorcise the 'demon' that had 'caused' his autism? When so many Muslims were murdered simply for staying true to their faith and the home that had been theirs for centuries, because Queen Isabel wanted her people to be Christian? When the Spanish invaded the Americas and obliterated so much Aztec, Inca, and Maya culture, and then enslaved the people of those civilizations? How about when the English and French pillaged the villages of Native Americans, raped and killed their people, and called them savage and worthless - after those same people had welcomed them and tried to be their friends? Is that the kind of bullshit religious freedom these oppressive bastards want? 

Look, I frankly don't give a shit what religion anyone is or even if they have one. What I give a shit about is the way they act. What I give a shit about is if people are getting hurt. If someone thinks their right to practice their religion is somehow more important than another person's safety or health or rights or life, I will fight back.

With my nature-based spirituality, neurodivergency, bisexuality, affinity for masculine clothes, desire for a chest binder, feminist values, dancing, and quick temper, a lot of the fundies reading this blog - though why they're even here, I have no idea - probably think I'm some kind of demon. They probably think everyone unlike them is a demon, out to destroy them and persecute them and take away their bullshit Christian freedom when really, we just want equality. That's prejudice on their part, and it's getting people killed. So we need to do something about it. The question is, what?

Transgender Teenager Threatened - Please HELP!!

While on Facebook tonight, hanging out in an LGBT group, it was brought to my attention that one of the group members, Angela DeFino (born Cody DeFino) is in danger. Some bullies from her school have been harassing her because of her gender identity.

One of them threw an apple at her head and called her a "fucking faggot ass bitch" and, according to Angela, they've threatened to do worse. She had been considering simply fighting them, but I pointed out why that would be unwise and suggested she tell the press.

At first, many people thought Angela should just tell her school or the police, but the school can't do anything because no teachers saw these boys harassing her and therefore can't punish them. And the school police liasons haven't supported her - she's seen them pointing and laughing.

But the internet is a powerful tool, and I've offered to use it to help her. That's why I'm dedicating this post to her and trying to spread the word. If the police and her school won't help, I will.

Here is a picture of Angela, copied and pasted from her Facebook page. I've asked her for any information we can use against these bullies, but she has yet to reply. Until then, please just spread the word and do anything you can to help.