Oh Billy, You Look So Small Right There…

Brilliant strategy. (Perfect for secret agents/spies such as myself.)

A friend once told me that when they are struggling with getting laundry done, she pretends it is her sworn duty to smuggle the young prince out of the castle to safety, disguised in a laundry hamper.

Now, when I am struggling with hygiene, I pretend I am part of a village with an annual festival, and I get one day a year to spend luxuriously at a bathhouse in preparation.

What my friend imparted on me was the skill of turning mundane tasks into fantastical adventures to make them more compelling and bearable.

So next time you need to go on a mental health walk, maybe consider doing reconnaissance for a secret underground organisation.

Next time cooking is too much of a chore, consider you ability to turn space station rations into a feast to the delight of your crewmates.

To the trans person reading this,

You are worthy, you are valid and you are loved. You matter so so much, and if you are in a enviroment that is not good for your health, I hope you get to be somewhere better soon. I hope you have people that support you, but if you haven’t yet, know that there are people out there who will love and support you. There are people out there with warm hearts and gentle eyes that will welcome you into their lives with open arms and always have a spot for you at the table. You deserve to live a full and authentic life. 🌸

quick dismantle for those who are starting to feel like it’s not worth speaking against narcissistic abuse:

children are being abused by narcissists right now, with no way to find out if there’s no resources being written about it

narcissistic abuse has been found to be so specifically devastating on the human body that even if it’s not physical, it causes long-term physical symptoms (chronic pain, chronic fatigue, inability to sleep regularly, over-active cortisol, over-responsive brain chemicals that give you ptsd symptoms)

there are people organizing forums, writing books, articles, posts, people making videos, checklists and all possible resources for dealing with narcissistic abuse. all of those people are survivors and victims of it. they’re not all making it up. they’re not all doing it for something that doesn’t exist.

dynamics of the narcissistic abuse are so pervasive, a person will usually feel they’re going insane and doubt themselves so hard until they finally find resources on narcissistic abuse, which is going to help them regain their sanity and find sense in what has been happening to them

narcissistic abuse has left millions of people feeling they’re not worthy of attention, care, resources, community, support or trust, and they’re accepting abuse as their normal. we can’t abandon them. we can’t say this is okay and look the other way in order to protect the narcissists.

if you’re worried that speaking out against narcissistic abuse is creating stigma against narcissists, remember that our writings and resources are being spread only among victims and survivors. narcissists are still controlling the mainstream narrative and all articles you look up as a non-survivor will convince you that narcissists are the ‘same as normal people’

for survivors of narcissistic abuse, it’s absolutely vital to avoid future narcissists and to be aware of their tactics. this is not limiting their access to public resources or public people in general, it’s only limiting their success among victims and survivors. ask yourself why would they want access to survivors and victims specifically. why is it so important that to this particular demographic, they look appealing.

narcissists claiming that if we don’t want them to have and abuse children, it’s ‘genocide’, genocide against who? narcissists most often don’t make other narcissists, they’re mostly creating abused kids. so the apparent genocide is against the abused children. they’re accusing us of genocide against ourselves.

narcissists finding abused people taking about abuse and attacking them for ‘smearing their reputation’ is a cover-up and darvo tactics. Only an abuser could turn against an abuse victim to act hurt and police their language instead of feeling rage towards the abuser. Anyone non-abusive would immediately have a problem with a narcissist who did the abuse, not with the victim who speaks out about it.

saying ‘not-all-narcissists’ is still admitting that a lot of them do abuse, and for the sake of their reputation, we have to shut up about it all. shut up. about abusers. to protect reputations. who except an abuser would need that to happen.

other times when they’re claiming no narcissist is abusive, they’re accusing millions of victims to be liars. openly denying experiences of abuse victims only to make themselves look good. we’re going to stand around and allow this?

making one narcissist feel like they don’t belong into safe spaces of victims is not more important than protecting the vulnerable part of the population from narcissistic abuse

abuse victims don’t have to be exposed to anyone who has anything in common with their abuser. we have the right to feel safe at the expense of anyone’s feelings.

Speaking against narcissistic abuse is NOT futile. They’re fighting to shut it off precisely because it’s limiting their access to victims. Every day a victim of narcissistic abuse finds their way to their freedom because there are people who spoke out about it.

Posted elsewhere before remembering her freckles.... Fineliners, correction pen.

"what if a dangerous man pretends to be trans to-" what if we actually dealt with the underlying causes of dangerous men. what if predators faced real consequences more often. what if you stopped using trans women as a proxy for your grievances with liberal feminism's individualist denial of the need to fight systemic issues.

what if you stopped assigning blame for patriarchy's evils to one of its more vulnerable victim groups.

You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.

Inktober #23 Silent Hill 2: Restless Dreams This one’s my favorite of this set C:

trauma doesn’t often feel like trauma is ‘supposed’ to feel. it feels like indifferent detachment, watching from outside yourself because nothing can hurt you there. it feels normal, just how people interact, so why are you making a big deal about it?  it feels like a joke – just how kids play, just how adults tease, just how some relationships work.

you wake from nightmares five years later and still wonder if you made it all up.

trauma can look like bad behaviour. like the stubborn refusal to get better, to stop self-destructing. trauma is putting yourself in harm’s way because you don’t really mean it, or because it’s funny, or because you just want to feel something, or because you just want to stop feeling. it’s wanting to destroy and reassemble yourself into another person entirely, so your real life can begin. because this isn’t real. because really bad things don’t happen to people like you.

trauma is the constant feeling of being an impostor. it’s the drive to survive twinned with the impulse to make yourself more sick in more ways. to hurt yourself to prove how bad you feel, or to punish yourself for exaggerating. you want people to believe what you’ve been through, to tell you your feelings are real, that your memories really happened. but when people do take you seriously, you play it off as a joke, apologize for bringing the mood down.

you go on and on about how it wasn’t that bad. you seek permission to still love the ones who hurt you, because it’s the people closest to us who can hurt us most deeply.

you can feel like the people who hurt you are the only ones who really knew you. in low self esteem, you can mistake cruelty for honesty.

there will always be people who have been through worse. that doesn’t make what happened to you okay.

there will always be people who don’t believe you. that doesn’t mean you are lying.

at some point, you have to take yourself seriously. you have to make a life you can stand to live. it’s the only way to survive.

Graffiti in Rockville, Maryland in memory of 23-year old Saudi trans woman Eden Knight.

Eden died after being forcibly detransitioned in Saudi Arabia, after being trafficked from the US by a security contractor named Michael Pocalyko.

Rest in peace Eden

Transphobes will not win