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therubymuse · 1 year

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Biologically Angry

Preface

Recently, a trans woman by the name of Dylan has been the focus of intense outrage from conservatives who live on the stuff, but today, I want to use one of her actions as a jumping off point to talk about who owns the writ on womanhood. Before she was (in)famous for Bud Light and Nike sponsorships, Dylan was taking heat from trans-exclusionary reactionary fascists for another reason: because she carries tampons in her purse.

I have recently been having some complicated feelings on the limitations of my body, as a trans woman, and owing to either autism, borderline personality disorder, or a mix of the two, I feel a need to share the loss and mourning I’m experiencing with those in my circles. This has, in turn, brought up more complicated feelings.

It may or may not be a surprise for you to learn that trans women have periods. I never know who’s going to read this stuff so this may feel a little Trans 101, but owing to feminizing hormones, a lot of the experiences cis women have with menstruation, like the cramping, the moods, and the cravings, are all things people on feminizing hormones also experience.

The technical reason for this is hormonal levels dictate fertility cycle windows. Put estrogen and progesterone into a body, and it’s going to react the same way cis bodies that produce those hormones naturally react. As to cramping, it’s not actually the uterus doing the squeeze, but the smooth muscle lining around the intestines, which means that despite not having a uterus, I still get cramps that have knocked me to the floor at times. The only thing we don’t experience is the bleeding, cause of the aforementioned lack of uterus.

All of this absolutely outrages our some folks, of course. They claim we’re erasing and robbing meaning from the feminine experience. They claim that people like Dylan “masquerade” as women and that her carrying tampons is just another shake of salt in their wounds. It doesn’t occur to them that the reason Dylan does this, the reason I do it, and the reason lots of women, trans or cis, do this is so we can help other women when they’re stuck. I don’t know a single cis woman who hasn’t at one time or another been caught short with her period. Why wouldn’t you want a friendly sister in the next stall over to pass you a pad or a tampon to help get you by? Why should it matter if that sister is trans or cisgender?

Apparently these things matter a great deal to a vocal few, because according to some recent study work, most cisgender lesbians, for instance, are fully supportive of transgender lesbians. But you wouldn’t know that to sit on Twitter and watch the stream of hatred and calls for outright genocide of people like me. Which is why most of the online world ought to be taken with a grain of salt.

However, my complicated feelings tie back to Dylan’s actions and experiences in a few other ways. And it’s my intention to air them here for your perusal, because I’m nothing if not a vulnerable trove of queer trauma hastily plastered to the wall for your education.

We are so often told that what is in the physical realm, is not what makes us women, and I agree with that statement. But it doesn’t change the emotional and physical longings I’ve felt and the loss and mourning I’ve experienced. I don’t expect anyone to believe me, but I do wish people would stop telling me what I should and shouldn’t feel, or that I’m better off for the loss. Cause I’m not.

I: Bleeding

People will often tell you, with varying degrees of veracity, that an experience cannot ever be truly understood unless it is felt. It is this concept that is used to bludgeon transgender people back into our assigned gender and roles. I can’t know that I’m a woman, because I don’t know what a woman feels like, or some variation on the concept.

Except there are many ways that I can.

When I grew up in the 90s, there was no awareness or support for transgender kids. Most of my friends were girls, and they told me often the reason I was their friend, instead of most other boys at school, was because I wasn’t like those boys. One of them invited me over to a sleepover once, but their parents forbade boys from sleepovers. I asked my mother if I could join the Girl Guides, but the Guides didn’t know about trans kids at that time, so the answer was no. As I got older, my shy and feminine demeanour made me a target for bullying. I was often called a chicken and a f*gg*t for not engaging with boys. And so by senior high, I had learned to hide who I was really well, and continued to wear that mask into my 30s.

My high school had a gay/lesbian support group, which I attended once, thinking I might be actually be gay. But I didn’t find I had much in common with gay boys, either. There was no support or wisdom for trans individuals. At home, my parents were not homophobes or particularly religious, but trans people weren’t talked about there either, and films with any gender incongruences such as The Birdcage or To Wong Foo were considered adult viewing, so I didn’t get to see them until much later in my life. Not that those films are paragon examples of trans experiences, but it would have been something.

Despite all this, when I discovered what trans people were, and that they’d been here all along, I couldn’t explode from the closet fast enough. I knew with every fibre of my being that this is what I was missing. It didn’t matter that I’d never been a girl, I had been so painfully awkward and uncomfortable most of my life, that an answer so simple, that I was a girl, made perfect sense.

We do trans people a disservice when we gatekeep these experiences. I was trapped inside the body, gender expectations, and social stature of manhood that felt completely alien to me, but there was nothing else, until I learned about being trans.

I have a body that doesn’t have a uterus, and as such, I don’t bleed on my periods, but I have extended the thought to other folks who do experience this that I wish I could take that from them. And mostly, the response to this suggestion is incredulousness, bordering on anger. The thinking goes, that because I can’t know how this feels, I shouldn’t want it. And wanting it anyway feels disrespectful or demeaning to some.

And to say I struggle with those emotions would be an understatement. It’s pretty much standard operating procedure at this point to deny a trans woman’s validity based on what she cannot do, but this doesn’t fit with feminism as I know it. There are women who are born without uteruses, or who are infertile, or who otherwise can’t have kids. The fact that they mourn that loss isn’t seen as an afront to womanhood. But it is when a trans woman does it. I don’t want to be angry at my sisters, but sometimes I am, because even allies struggle to understand why this hurts so much.

The feminism I grew up with, that I saw in school amongst friends, told me that womanhood was not a club whose cost of admission was the strict adherence to patriarchal ideals. You didn’t need to bleed to be a woman, or have kids, or devote yourself to housekeeping and partnership at the cost of your artistry or personal development. The freedom to choose, not just in terms of bodily autonomy, but in all aspects of our identities, was paramount. And it feels like this notion has all but turned on it’s head in an attempt to keep trans women out of the club. The fact that I don’t bleed, that I can’t have kids, that I don’t want to devote myself to housework and partnership, are all points used against me, to prove I’m not a real woman. And yet, my desire to share things with other women is also somehow demeaning and shameful.

That shrill charge of inauthenticity rings in my ears every time you tell me I don’t actually know what we want. And it only makes the pain of loss more potent.

II: Childbirth

When I was quite young, I had some sort of Cabbage Patch Kids-adjacent doll. I carried it around the house, calling it my daughter. I think this alarmed my parents, as I was 7 years old at a time and this wasn’t something typical 7 year old boys did. Like most things I did as a child, I suppressed it when it became unacceptable, only to have it pop up in later life.

I didn’t really give much thought to parenthood in my adult life until transition, admittedly. I was speaking with a friend about their kids, and afterwards, I had a very messy breakdown over the loss of that experience. In several ways, the world considers me unfit for motherhood. Biological essentialists say I’m perverting womanhood to have a child and teach them that I am their mother. My mental health and my financial dependence on the state means that I’m not fit to adopt a child, nor do I have the space to do so. And of course, my body will not create a life in the way I suddenly wanted to experience.

The pain of realizing all that was very much akin to the pain of someone dying. It was like being made aware of a life I didn’t know I wanted, and then having it taken from me, all in the same realization. I have had to spend a lot of time coming to terms with it. And when I have opened up and spoken about it, I’m either mocked, or I’m told I should be grateful to be free of the trouble.

When cis women who are able to have kids decide to have them anyway despite warnings of how difficult the experience will be, they’re applauded and supported and given space to experience those feelings. When I express that I want the same, I’m insane. And I’m honestly just so tired of having to justify it.

I have found ways to be a mother to myself, in the absence of my actual mother. A huge drive in the desire to be someone’s mother figure is to be a better mom than my mom was. I carried my mother’s trauma all my life, and wasn’t allowed to hold boundaries or space for myself. Borderline and dissociative identity disorder are both challenges that carry beginnings in the treatment I experienced. Now that she’s gone, I’ve worked to be my own mother, to the figures in my head who have needed it. My 7 year old self, my lovely Coral, I have loved her even though she causes a lot of distress and pain.

And so, I don’t need to be a mother as much as I once did, but the pain of loss is still there. The experiences I won’t have and the mourning I’ve done weighs so much. And I haven’t felt like I’ve been able to share that without someone trying to offer me alternatives, or talk me out of it entirely, as if I just don’t know how bad it could be.

My mother was in labour with me for 17 hours. She had opted for natural childbirth early on in the process and by the time she felt enough pain to want to back out, they couldn’t give her the drugs. So she struggled. They offered to put her on a helicopter to a bigger hospital to maybe assist, and I’m pretty sure the swearing and throwing of things was interpreted as no, cause there I was, born in Tofino in the middle of a storm. She told me the story once, and then told me, in a rare moment of emotional clarity, that I was worth every second of her pain and every opportunity she gave up, just to have me.

And I still cry, thinking about that, because it’s not like she didn’t know what was coming. But she thought it was worth it anyway. That I was worth it anyway. And that’s how I feel about the children I won’t ever bear.

They’d have been worth it.

III: Coping

Once upon a time, I hated myself for my appearance. I hated my thin, frail body, my tall forehead, my facial hair. I was deeply ashamed of my figure and would hide myself in oversized clothing and shirts/shorts when I went swimming. I hated how I was aging, looking more and more like my father, and looking old beyond my years due to the stress and strain of my life and it’s many masks.

Today, I have the opposite relationship with my body, partly because I could transition, and partly by accepting the parts that aren’t perfect. There are parts of me I adore, like my curves, my thick and recovered head of hair, my eyes. And then there are parts I’ve accepted through radical self-love, such as my voice, my eyes (but in a different way), and my nose (something I rarely admit to having hated in the past). Overall, I’m in a really healthy place.

However, some things haven’t been as easily let go, such as my longing to be somebody’s mom. I’m working on it, and Coral certainly helps me a lot, because helping her heal trauma from our shared childhood means she is having less meltdown responses to emotional stimuli. I feel proud of her, and the work I’ve done with her. But my invisible head child is pretty hard to explain to strangers, and it’s unfair to ask her to fill all of the emotional cavities I find in myself. That would make me more like my mother than I ever want to be.

I don’t hate my body for what she is unable to do, but I feel a hole in my chest when I think of what she might have done. There are so many ways that I can be a mother figure, and some of those roads I’m already on in various ways. One of my challenges with borderline is how intense all emotions feel. When I think about not having a child, it hurts just as bad as losing a loved one. I can’t explain why. I think it’s similar to what happens when a cis woman loses a child in pregnancy, although I’m certain that saying so will cause more ire. I can imagine who they would be, how I would have been their friend and parent, what our family would have been like. Sometimes I see them in dreams. And then I wake up, and mourn again. And people tell me what I’m experiencing is insulting to them.

If the world doesn’t go completely to hell, it’s entirely possible that within my lifetime, trans women will be able to have children via uterine transplants. This has already been done successfully but it’s still quite experimental. If it does go to hell, probably not, and either way, it won’t happen soon enough for me to take part in it.

It’s going to take a long time to work through these emotions, learn how to cope with them, and direct some of them towards becoming a motherly figure in the ways I can be. But I doubt the ache I feel will ever go away. And I’m tired of pretending that it will, or not talking about it, to save the feelings of others. Motherly longing is part of a lot of trans women’s experiences, and coping requires recognition.

I need to make space to process and feel those things, but we need to make space as a society for trans women to feel these things without persecution, abuse, and belittling. Our womanhood, and our motherhood, matters just as much.

Photo of French Beach, BC, taken by me.

#transgender #motherhood

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dirty-rave-trannies-united · 1 year

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I yearn for, and look forward to, the day I will have children who call me mother. The day I have a home with my partners and our children. A home which, when our children are older and move out, they will look forward to returning to for holidays. A place of listening, of learning from one another, of love and patience and healing. And of warmth.

The home which I was never raised in, but always wanted. I shall build it myself from the ashes of healing that I have done, because my parents would not. All I want is for my children to be genuinely happy to return home, even when they are adults. That will mean that I have done something right.

#family #transgender #home #motherhood #transfemme #healing #lgbt

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wiltdr0s3s · 1 year

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SIM DUMP

Here, have some screenshots of sims that I've made while I take forever to update on other stories.

Sienna. (TS4)

My simself and my irl friend (Des)'s simself. (TS4)

Melanie and her twin boys! (TS3)

My simself and my boyfriend's simself. (TS2)

My mermaid/siren oc, Lyssa! (TS4)

Vamp mommas putting their baby to bed + moving pics! (TS3)

Anna and Trenton, roomates to lovers. (TS3)

I forgot the name of this sim, she's a horse girl though. (TS3)

Vic and Kuro! (If you're into enstars do NOT flame me for how Kuro looks, IM TRYING.) (TS4)

ok im done

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kalamity-jayne · 24 days

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Happy TDOV from your favorite trans mama.

#tdov #trans mom #transsexual #transgender #motherhood #me #selfie #trans day of visibility

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shaadidevereaux · 8 months

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Scattered Beads

You said I remind you of your Mother.

This made me feel…Holy.

The reminders all strung across the portrait of my body like a prayed black-beaded rosary.

My open-mouthed laugh painted red. The way I wore my hair. The lack of shame in my throat, even while being covered in it. My distance from you, created by other men. The way I bathed in the Sun, as though it were a river.

And how I believed I could sift through this river and find the pieces of your heart.

Searching for high ground

I wish I had asked how you felt about your Mother. Then I would have known whether you wanted to love me or you simply found a suitable place for your vengeance.

In the end, it seemed to be both.

I was both loved and punished by you.

#poetry #original poem #poets on tumblr #patriarchy #transgender #latinidad #motherhood #dark academia #dark aesthetic #goth #gothic

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katy-griffin-saye · 1 year

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Naked Education (Channel 4)

RATE: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I used to 🤔 it was 😂 to have the sight of people naked, but this and the concept was all for a 👍 reason. This is all about body positivity ✨️. There were stories people who have had 👎 experiences such as post-natal depression or bullying (some were called Peppa Pig) which made me want to 😢. And I believe 📸 on social media should not always be images of people with ideal hairless bodies as we saw people with body hair being proud of it - you could want to see more of these things 😀😉. The bullied people wanted to show off with a beautiful 📷 of their bodies having insulting words written on their bodies.

If you missed the first episode, stream the series/1st episode on All4 or every Tuesday at 20:00

I AM NOW DECIDING TO DO REVIEWS OF SHOWS I WATCH

#reviews #uk #uk tv #uk tv shows #naked education #puberty #transgender #education #motherhood #bodies #bullying #past #channel 4

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faizzzanbe · 2 years

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Trans-parent and adoption.

Adoption, it's such a beautiful thing. So many lives bloom with happiness when someone adopts a child. Not only does that child get a new life, but the couple who is adopting and their family's lives get blessed.

Unfortunately, every couple is not that lucky. Many couples aren't allowed to adopt, some due to minor reasons, some due to their financial positions, and some due to their GENDER/ SEXUALITY.

A mother is a mother irrespective of her caste, religion, sex, or color. She will give you one extra roti with lots of ghee, even if you are full. After asking for one apple, a father will bring ten kilos of apple. A parent will always love you, their gender, age, and sex don't matter when it comes to love, and that's parent's love.

Why a Trans couple isn't allowed to adopt a child? Aren't they humans? Won't they love a child? Aren't they allowed to live happily?

It's high time for the government to legalize adoption for transgenders. It's high time for us too, to START educating our children about every minor thing, to STOP judging and to START appreciating. Change starts with the US and little things matter a lot.

A parent's love is unconditional. It doesn't require a specific gender. A trans-parent will not only love their child endlessly but also they will give their child what they were not provided with; freedom, education, respect, and obviously LOVE.

~ @mdfaizzzan__

Intern @lemmebe_official

#lgbtq #adoption #motherhood #parents #lovecore #transgender

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critter-coded · 3 months

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Reclaiming "Female" Through Therianthropy

This is my submission for the "My Gender is Not Human" zine. Here, I discuss how I realized I was not transgender because of my therianthropy and I hope that maybe someone else may relate and understand themselves in a new way. ♡

If you want to wait to read this until the Zine is released, then do not continue past the "keep reading" portion. Otherwise, enjoy!

PS: If this interests you, I'd strongly advise playing Shelter 2 (where I got the photo below from) as it relates a lot to my own experience.

CW: Body issues, misogyny

Can you imagine the scent of the velvet fuzz of a newborn animal? The experience of a dark den now filled with new life, life that hasn't even opened its eyes yet to the winter world just outside? Can you imagine the tiredness yet sheer love and comfort of having your children welcomed into the world, witnessed only by you and the Earth’s soil?

It's something I often dream of, and it's that very experience that made me realize that I am not transgender. It's funny because in this community, it feels as though the majority of individuals here are transgender and that experience ties closely into their nonhumanity. For me, the opposite occurred. I had a top surgery letter in my hand after years of feeling “not quite right” in my body or in how people perceived me. I had every reason to feel this way and to want this, even if it felt imperfect. Looking back, I remember how I got to this point.

“Be skinnier any way you can, it’ll make you prettier” they’d say as they, themselves, were ironically obese and I loved them no less for it.

“Grow your hair long and change your clothes, you’ll look more like a lady.” A projection rooted in the ideals of someone who reads far too much Jane Austen.

“Women should be subservient and provide endlessly, or they’re selfish.”

Dread set in every time I filled someone’s coffee or plate of food due to expectation or demand and not out of love and kindness. Everytime the topic of how I looked in a dress or how my hair wasn’t as long as someone else wanted. The disappointment of my family when they learned I had dated other women in the past and their relief when I dated one man. The eyerolls and my teacher’s discouragement when I expressed an interest in physics or chemistry. Even my finance degree was achieved through apparent luck despite graduating top of my class. Every “right” I accomplished was met with a “wrong” in some new category. The very things that made men impressive made me disobedient. I starved myself to look a little nicer to strangers, cried in bed after being talked down to at work, slept away all of my sorrows in a curled up ball. Humanity didn’t take kindly to me.

It frustrated me, and combined with my general lack of identity at the time along with diagnosed CPTSD, it was easy to relate to the plight that transgender individuals experienced. Surely that had to be me, but the label and being perceived as something besides female never clicked entirely. I figured that I may just have mild gender dysphoria instead, but for the first time, I really deep dived into what it meant to identify as a gender as everyone was needing urgent, permanent decisions to be made on my end. Around this time, I took on my first mammal label which was a feline. Ironically, cats are often the first animals to be associated with femininity and to be mistreated because of it.

I wanted motherhood, but I wanted my own kittens to rear more than I felt like I wanted to raise a human infant after spending time in a daycare and at a cat shelter. I didn’t want my breasts, but not because I wasn’t a girl, that’s just how other animals are. Perfume was a method to mark the rooms I had been in, not for elegance. I still felt so female, yet I didn’t see another way out besides transitioning until it occurred to me: what if I didn’t have to be a “woman”, and instead, I could simply be female the way animals are female?

There were so many women like me such as in Brave, Princess Mononoke, Poor Things, or Wolf Children. The women who strayed from polite society to walk their own paths and stuck to their own desires. Even my own cat was female and yet held her chin so high and demanded when she would or would not be held. This realization was the first time I found myself feeling feral freedom and uninhibited beauty in the way I was. I was going to be the woman that rolls in the dirt, who is unapologetically beautiful in her own way, who chases after whatever her wild heart desires. I am not transgender, but I am not entirely a woman. I am an animal, and I am female in all of its unbridled ways.

Shedding my domestic cat label, I have taken up the title of bobcat. With it, I swear on my name that I will bite the hand of any who wish to tame or domesticate me ever again. I have been released out of the crate and back into the wilderness where I belong, and I shall never look back down the mountain. I feel the moss beneath my paws, the cold breeze kissing my nose, the smell of rain soaked woods and wildflowers. Ravens cry as I run on four legs towards the peak, released at last from the grips of mankind. I feel the warmth of a life suddenly worth living, growing along with the hair I now reclaim as my own fur without shame or expectation. I am home at the summit of my own world.

My spirit runs wild, and she is female.

#therian #otherkin #therianthropy #therianthrope #adult therian #feline therian

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bumblee-stumblee · 1 year

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I am one of those 'kids who can't consent'. I can consent. But because of radfems allying with the conservative right, you are forcing me through irreparable changes. Every day I wake up and my body is more and more disgusting. But, because of you, I keep getting gaslit by GPs that I'm not trans, that I will learn to love my body, when the reality is it's wrong. Radfems do want to kill trans people, and they want kids to stay sexually available to them. I've lost count of the amount of lesbians telling me that I shouldn't "mutilate" my body because they lose out on another butch. You're disgusting and why I may be attracted to girls but will never date them.

Killing trans people is your end goal and that's why people think you're evil. 56% increase in hate crimes in the UK, thanks for that.

No, actually, you can't consent and if you don't understand the dangerous precedent this sets (for full grown adults with agendas to tell you can consent,) I'll explain it to you.

Within the trans community there's an idea that the sooner you can get a kid to transition, socially or medically, the sooner this can be seen as normal. The normalization of transitioning children is important, it pushes the idea that they could be born in the wrong body and normalizes the idea that a child knows what is medically best for them.

Child predators will try to find a way to have access to children by any means, now imagine how much easier it would be for them to have access to vulnerable children if they just claim to understand and support their gender identity issues.

The idea that children can consent would mean parents have no right over their children when it comes to their health and protections. I'm not saying children shouldn't speak up for themselves but we need to acknowledge that many children can be coached or groomed into saying or thinking things that may not benefit them or their safety.

The people that would love it for the law to 'recognize' that kids can consent doesn't stop at transgender rights advocates. It extends to pedophiles/child molesters that would love to get off the sex registry(something Jacob Breslow thinks it shouldn't exist to begin with) & pedophiles in position of power; informing and creating guidelines regarding childrens health & gender identity issues/transgenderism.

Pedophile sympathizer Jacob Breslow advocates for the rights of pedophiles, he thinks people are too mean to them. He thinks minors can consent too.

In his book Ambivalent Childhoods, Chapter 3 Desiring the Child: Queerness, Motherhood, and the Analyst, he writes:

[a description of a 12-year-old child dancing and mimicking sex acts to a crowd of adults.]

“As his movements transition from those that mimic break-dancers to those that mimic sex acts, repeating the easily citational gesticulations of pelvic thrusts … I find myself caught up in exhilarating waves of memory, identification, and desire … a desire for him himself,”

Why am I talking about Jacob Breslow? You should know him right? He was a Mermaids charity trustee until all of this came out, the pedophile sympathizing and all that.

Breslow also cited as an inspiration for his own writing Judith Levine’s 2002 book Harmful To Minors: The Perils Of Protecting Children From Sex in which she wrote that “sex is not in itself harmful to minors” and argued for the lowering of the age of consent to twelve.

He also was a guest speaker for a Pro-Pedophile B4U-ACT conference, an organization set up by a convicted child molester to destigmatize pedophiles and rebrand then as MAPs or Minor attracted person.

He's just one person tho, right? Not like there are more pedophile sympathizers in position of power when it comes to the transgender movement-

Anyways, all that to say;

Kids cannot consent because they don't have the cognitive or emotional maturity to understand long-term ramifications of such things.

>forcing irreparable changes

Going through puberty is normal. You've been convinced it's not but i promise you, you can still transition as soon as you turn 18 or whatever if that's what you want and you'll be fine.

Radfems don't align themselves with the conservative right but i can understand how you'd come to think that's what's happening when certain radfems talk on conservative platforms. I think there's a lack of understanding that they have no where else to speak on, especially when leftist first action is to label them as terfs and often don't give them the opportunity to have a conversation lest they be cancelled for even giving them the time of day.

Your body isn't disgusting. I'm sorry you feel that way and I'm sorry there are certain people that have convinced you to hate your body. I won't tell you you can learn to love yourself, it's taken me decades to learn to love myself and stop hating myself so much for things that happened to me that were out of my control and made me resent being a woman. Learning about radical feminism has definitely helped. I hope you can find something that will help you you as well that won't cause irreversible damage.

Radfems don't want to kill transpeople, I've already explained this in a different ask. Radfems don't want kids to be sexually available to them either, that's disgusting.

Hey, it sounds like you're dealing with a lot, including internalized homophobia, maybe some trauma. I truly hope you get an actual therapist that can listen and validate your concerns. My end goal isn't to kill transpeople tho I'd definitely would like to know where you're getting that from.

#radfem #radblr #ask

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ear-motif · 10 months

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just out of curiosity, why do you feel Will is trans? like how does that concept look in your head?? (i dont feel he is canonically trans but so many of his themes align with that concept and it makes my heart happy) i'm very open about the subject, just wanna hear your thoughts!!

oughh i love having thoughts thank you so much.

he is not canonically trans, point blank. but god damn if this show was just a little but cooler he would be. inane ramblings below

it started as a selfish projection of myself onto him, because I immediately related to his awkward accidental sincerity and difficulty relating to the Normals. I even have a similar cadence to my voice when I’m being snarky (which people notice and is extremely embarrassing). lets hope i have a hot glow up cause so far I mostly relate to s1 will (sad!). And because I’m gendersomething I’m like lit ok hes trans bc I said so.

But will’s whole inner world and turmoil makes sense to me when seen through the lens of my experience with gender and mental illness (tho ill focus on the gender for now). feeling like there’s a dark, awful part of yourself that’s constantly being taunted at and goaded into taking over. but your normie friends say that you’re a good person for repressing it, for doing whats useful while resisting what you crave. sven if that’s not what they say, it’s what they mean, and it’s what you’ve been implicitly taught your whole life. [for will, i think allegorically speaking its less his “murderous tendencies” that he has to resist, but gaining an antisocial perspective based on his empathy. growing above morality through his intimate experience with death and killers. that would make a man like will very dangerous, not only for individuals but potentially for his entire community. idk wanted to clear that up im normal about will graham]. obviously thats not what everyone or even most queer ppl’s experience with gender is like, but it is for me. yes im making it sound like i have a transgendered Venom Symbiote Guy hiding in my bones but like. maybe i do you dont know

i feel like this is a crappy answer but thats honestly why im like yea willard graham transgendered…and then the writers like to taunt me by making one of his defining drives his drive to be a father which is mean bc I too need to be a caregiver while maintaining my masculine identity so RUDE. and then setting up how that goal is only pushed further from him by his involvement with hannibal by making mason assault margot and sterilize her, killing their child and leaving her with an abdominal scar. and then having hannibal kill abigail, effectively killing their child and leaving will with an abdominal scar. and from what i know abt s3, he doesnt bond with wally like he does with abigail; hannibal essentially stole his capacity for fatherhood like mason stole margot’s capacity for motherhood (except she wins cuz she and alana have a kid right?) fuck this doesnt relate to gender anymore OK IM DONE I SAID MY PIECE IM SO SORRY

#im so sorry rat this cant be what u were hoping for shdnd #turns out i do Not have a good reason why i think ues trams #asks

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