Feisty Lady Anger and other things about me you hate
My mother prizes her anger, for all that she doesn't express it openly. I tell stories about her spiteful, steel-spined responses to people who told her, "You can't do that," and I point to them as Why I Am How I Am. Her father told her he wouldn't pay for her college because "women only go to earn the MRS degree," and she could "get married and have babies" without college. In response, Mom got her bachelor's in Mathematics in 1970 on her own dime, back in the days when in-state students didn't pay tuition at state schools (just another thing Reagan ruined). She worked and paid for her books and housing, got her degree, paid for her own wedding because he wouldn't do that either. Taught school, got her Master's, had three kids, started her Ph.D. with 3 under 6 and became a professor when the youngest was 5.
Tell me I can't, my mom told the world, and I'll show you that I can. I won't just do it, I'll become a department head and a Distinguished Professor and retire after 30 years of teaching other math teachers with a list of achievements as long as my arm.
There is an anger that runs deep in the women in my family. Tell me I can't, and I'll show you I can. Show me injustice and I'll tear at it with my teeth and hands, staring you down while I do. Backwards and in heels.
I can't tell you the moment I crossed out of Feisty Lady Anger in the eyes of the people close to me, but I can tell you the moment I noticed. Maybe it was when my voice started dropping or the growing muscles on my shoulders pulled my stance more square and upright. Maybe it was when I moved from they/them to he/they, and somehow I stepped from Diet Woman to Too Close To Man in their eyes.
It's a funny thing when all of a sudden your anger becomes real enough to be startling to people. Your anger is no longer feisty, charming, and attractive. This thing that people liked about you, that people who say they love you said they loved about you, suddenly becomes frightening, upsetting, and terrible. The way you didn't let people mow over you and fought back used to be a thing that people admired. It was actively attractive. It was one of your best qualities.
Now? It's ugly. It's disgusting. It's scary. The thing you were is gone, and now your anger is real to them.
It's in that moment that the blade cuts back towards you. You realize the reason your squared shoulders and set jaw drew people in couldn't be squared with the stubble on that jaw or the newfound strength in your arms. Feisty Lady Anger isn't real, not in the way a man's anger is real. Feisty Lady Anger is admirable, sure, but it is admirable because of its essential ineffectual nature. At most, Feisty Lady Anger fixes minor problems for the kids at school, gets the principal to back down from scolding your child when she politely asks the kid calling her a faggot on the bus if he knows what that really means, pushes a woman to achieve for her family, in appropriately neutered ways.
When you stop pretending to be a woman and become who you really are, when your anger becomes real, you realize both that the thing about you that people loved is gone and that this thing was attractive in the first place because of its ineffectiveness. Your anger wasn't scary because it wasn't real enough to be threatening.
Now you have Man Anger, and, you're told, you should apologize for that. It doesn't matter if it's the same anger you've always had, or that you're angry about the same things. It comes now in baritone, with belly hair and bellowing, and now it's both real and disgusting.
The worst part is watching it come from people you thought should know better, the people who should understand. You spent nearly 40 years being told to sit down and shut up because the men in your professional career were speaking, assured that if you just waited your turn, you'd be given a place to speak eventually, and now here you are being told within a community that claims to love and understand you, by people that claim to be in community with you and love who you are, that you actually don't have any real problems to speak about, also your Man Anger and Man Privilege (when do I get that, please?) are Scary and mean you should sit down and wait, and you'll be given a place to speak eventually.
It is the Transmasculine Catch-22: if you become Man Enough to no longer fit into Almost Lady, your anger becomes Real, which makes you realize that your anger wasn't Real before, but because it's Real now, you're not allowed to have it. And by the way, you're not allowed to be neither Man or Lady - now you're Man Enough, and that makes it all the more clear how you were simply Kirkland Signature Lady right up until the point you weren't.
There will be a few people who Fucking Get It, who don't see you as either a Failed Lady or a Broken Man, and you'll love those people all the more for their rarity. It won't take the sting out of realizing that the things people you love loved about you before now disgust and repel them, but it'll make it enough to keep going.
You couldn't stop, anyway. You've never felt more yourself, and the people who don't love you, the actual you, the real you... the loss of that hurts, but not nearly as much as the idea of pretending to be something else did.
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I feel like everyone has been lying to me about Shen Qingqiu being oblivious! Reading this I really feel like he absolutely knows how he feels about Binghe! He's the one who called himself s grieving widow! Not anyone else!
Many times from his pov he mentions feeling some sort of way. And then quickly follows this up with 'teacherly feelings' or 'so filial' but then there's the '(or something)'. Man knows what he's feeling and is trying to brainwash himself out of it!
This man is very twisted up about his own sexuality. But I really don't think being ignorant of it is the the problem?
Perhaps he is deeply ashamed. Or just so completely certain it wouldn't be reciprocated. Probably just so ingrained that this is not socially acceptable so avoid avoid avoid!
Sqq has *experience* in brainwashing himself. Perhaps this behavior started well before he became Shen Qingqiu.
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please think about how toriel exists as a purposeful venture by toby fox to create a "mom" character who isn't just there to write letters to the protagonist offscreen and act as motivation for them even though we barely know her and actually reacts realistically when innocent children leave her safe home to go on a dangerous adventure because of the inherent and rarely-explored grief and tragedy that come with being such a character in a video game, to be powerless to do anything but watch as both your children sacrifice themselves for a cause they ABSOLUTELY should not have to die for at their age, because that's your only role in the narrative, and you're the "mom," just there to make them pie, and whenever you find another child they always ALWAYS leave you in the same way and die and you feel like you keep losing second and third and fourth etc etc chances. if only you could redeem yourself. if you can save even a single child, that will make it okay, right? that will mean there is hope for you. this time will be different, you'll see. you'll destroy the exit to the ruins. you'll never let asriel and chara your dear fallen wards go again.
moreover, please think about how in deltarune chapter 3, toriel will almost certainly be a major part of the adventure. she will get to accompany her beloved child as they explore a strange, daunting new world, bond with them, learn more about their delightful new friend, FINALLY she will not have to simply stand there in the shadows. the tragedy of the nameless mother who never gets to look after her child in video games as they fight has been explored thoroughly, and now we can delve into something both delightful and potentially even MORE heartbreaking: the mother who HAS to watch her child fight.
on an unrelated note, y'know how the game over screen in chapter 2 has whatever companion you're with begging kris to wake up get up as they lie there, ostensibly dead?
...yeah. think about that for a second as well.
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