I'm the only one of me - let me keep you company!
Subject line care of Taylor Swift, featuring Brendon Urie. I'm getting a little more spacey, please bear with me.
I used to do media analysis, and I'm not sure if I'll ever do it again - and if that's what it's come to, I'm not too broken up about it. I still love reading and watching media analysis, but the deconstruction of a piece of media really kind of does suck the fun out of it for me. And I don't find that to be true of a lot of things, but it is for audio-visual media and me.
In Jewish mythology, Eve was far from Adam's first wife - Lilith was his first wife, who God made to keep him company. Lilith demanded to be treated equally, which Adam wasn't down with, and God fucking banished her from Eden. Well, okay! Adam was so lonely that he took the earth and crafted a woman with his hands - bones, muscle, skin, everything. He was so terrified by seeing all those ugly details that he couldn't touch her and God had to destroy her. Then the Eve story kicks in... but I'm so much more interested in this mythology and how that informs the character of Eve than the Christian mythos of it all. Not to mention informing lots of weird shitty things about what women are "supposed" to be and do and appear as, and how men react to that. But also, more simply, I think sometimes seeing the work and intention behind something can affect how it's perceived, and not always in positive ways.
I always spend a lot of time thinking about trans people, especially trans men, because I see the toxic environments they steep in - and I'll eventually get there, but today is not that day. I used to bind my chest on Friday evenings and Saturdays at tournaments and at the LGBTQ youth group I went to for a small lifetime. That started when I was 15, and it was liberating in a sense, but it also felt horrible - and anyone who tells you binding feels otherwise is lying to your face. I'm all for models of harm reduction, but binding is bad for you, and I feel like there aren't any trans men who are honestly coming out and saying that. I started ostensibly living on my own at 18 and was so up in my feeling about my gender that I wouldn't leave the house without binding - and promptly fucked up my back so bad that I spent a weekend in bed. I had to have been a 36D at the time, and insurance covering chest surgery was a pipe dream then... but I could always get chest surgery. I couldn't get a new back and rib cage. So I basically made a deal with myself: no more binding, period... so now it's time to figure out a way to be okay with that. Fortunately it was already autumn, so I started zipping up my winter coat all the way. The next couple years I wore fleece vests and then flannel shirts with the sleeves ripped off. It didn't much change how I was perceived, but it made me feel a little more comfortable. And let me tell you, a lot of "allies" who wouldn't dare say anything about a trans man binding had no problem making fun of how I dressed, not knowing what they were ultimately saying. I started testosterone at 24 and was just done - I just started white knuckling it, wearing the tshirts that were comfortable to wear and finding some way or another to emotionally deal with it. And not just allies at that point, but also "friends" started questioning if I was really trans - or even outright saying that trans men who don't bind aren't really trans! Few of them said this to my face, mind you, so I really didn't get to tell them how shitty it was, but unsurprisingly none of them are real friends a decade later. I stopped going out so much, especially during the day, and spent more time out around friends who just couldn't find the energy to care about something so silly. I definitely thought "growing pains" was more of a metaphorical phrase and then all of a sudden I found myself desperate to stretch my muscles because they'd start to cramp up. I'd go out to area parks in the middle of the night and climb on their jungle gyms and do pushups. I was living with my dad at the time and he had no idea I'd even started testosterone - my mother figured it out first, actually, and told him. And seeing as within 24 hour of me coming out (at 15) he said that I couldn't transition under his roof, I wasn't thrilled by the idea. He also seemed to think testosterone was A Dangerous and Mystical Steroid and not like, a hormone - in fact, he still thinks "my hormones" are something very different from his... and they sort of are, because he's in his 70s, so I have considerably more testosterone than he'll ever have again. Within those first six months, my muscle and bone grew under the fat before it would redistribute, so I looked worryingly puffy. And one day, my dad came into my room looking concerned and pissed off, and... lunged at me? Like, shoved his chest out towards me. And I didn't react because... what are we, animals?! Who does that?! I think he thought I was coming for his boring, brutal masculinity - like, no dude; I'm good, thanks. I can't think of a bigger blessing than my dad pointedly never seeing me as his son and therefore never engaging in how my masculinity developed. I never wanted all that violence - and I never had the anger that other trans men talk about. Yes, totally: on testosterone, it is easier to shove down unwanted emotions and indulge in anger, but it doesn't cause anger. I'd already done plenty of research trying to find the best solution, in all honesty, to my dad - even now, he's addicted to his own rage. He explodes, it feels satisfying to indulge in that, he calms down, and then he needs his fix again. The research I've read on it essentially finds that the emotions you indulge in are the ones that are going to come up more - if you try to "get out" your anger, you'll just need to "get it out" again, in an ever-replenishing cycle. I started looking at it like inertia, and while I can't do anything to save my parents, at least I can try my best to indulge in something better. And of course I get angry - I'm still mortal. But it's increasingly easier to just sit with my own discomfort in those moments. It's harder these days - working out really does help, and pools are verboten - but even that ground work of trying to be more mindful, trying to indulge more in kindness and compassion, trying to help people (and myself) grow has been maybe the thing I'm most proud of doing in my life thus far. And I feel like there are a lot of men - not just trans men, but also especially trans men - who need to hear these things. Whatever traditional or mainstream masculinity even is at this point, it's killing people - and it's killing a lot of men. And even in its more affable forms, it's abusing a lot of women. The fact that it took decades of trauma and research to find out that being regularly yelled at is (very generally) as bad as being physically abused is troubling to me, but more troubling is that even some forms of physical abuse are still being defended! The research on "spanking" is unfortunately very clear: it causes brain damage that lead to further problems. You know, like you'd expect with physical abuse. And I know almost no parents who spank their kids think they're doing any real harm... but when science is so unequivocal about something, it's time for us to stop this narrative. Intention is information to be sure, but there's real harm in focusing solely on intention.
I'm hoping I can expand on more of this - and, more dreadfully, edit - but I want to start getting something actually written. I mean, if not now... when?
I used to do media analysis, and I'm not sure if I'll ever do it again - and if that's what it's come to, I'm not too broken up about it. I still love reading and watching media analysis, but the deconstruction of a piece of media really kind of does suck the fun out of it for me. And I don't find that to be true of a lot of things, but it is for audio-visual media and me.
In Jewish mythology, Eve was far from Adam's first wife - Lilith was his first wife, who God made to keep him company. Lilith demanded to be treated equally, which Adam wasn't down with, and God fucking banished her from Eden. Well, okay! Adam was so lonely that he took the earth and crafted a woman with his hands - bones, muscle, skin, everything. He was so terrified by seeing all those ugly details that he couldn't touch her and God had to destroy her. Then the Eve story kicks in... but I'm so much more interested in this mythology and how that informs the character of Eve than the Christian mythos of it all. Not to mention informing lots of weird shitty things about what women are "supposed" to be and do and appear as, and how men react to that. But also, more simply, I think sometimes seeing the work and intention behind something can affect how it's perceived, and not always in positive ways.
I always spend a lot of time thinking about trans people, especially trans men, because I see the toxic environments they steep in - and I'll eventually get there, but today is not that day. I used to bind my chest on Friday evenings and Saturdays at tournaments and at the LGBTQ youth group I went to for a small lifetime. That started when I was 15, and it was liberating in a sense, but it also felt horrible - and anyone who tells you binding feels otherwise is lying to your face. I'm all for models of harm reduction, but binding is bad for you, and I feel like there aren't any trans men who are honestly coming out and saying that. I started ostensibly living on my own at 18 and was so up in my feeling about my gender that I wouldn't leave the house without binding - and promptly fucked up my back so bad that I spent a weekend in bed. I had to have been a 36D at the time, and insurance covering chest surgery was a pipe dream then... but I could always get chest surgery. I couldn't get a new back and rib cage. So I basically made a deal with myself: no more binding, period... so now it's time to figure out a way to be okay with that. Fortunately it was already autumn, so I started zipping up my winter coat all the way. The next couple years I wore fleece vests and then flannel shirts with the sleeves ripped off. It didn't much change how I was perceived, but it made me feel a little more comfortable. And let me tell you, a lot of "allies" who wouldn't dare say anything about a trans man binding had no problem making fun of how I dressed, not knowing what they were ultimately saying. I started testosterone at 24 and was just done - I just started white knuckling it, wearing the tshirts that were comfortable to wear and finding some way or another to emotionally deal with it. And not just allies at that point, but also "friends" started questioning if I was really trans - or even outright saying that trans men who don't bind aren't really trans! Few of them said this to my face, mind you, so I really didn't get to tell them how shitty it was, but unsurprisingly none of them are real friends a decade later. I stopped going out so much, especially during the day, and spent more time out around friends who just couldn't find the energy to care about something so silly. I definitely thought "growing pains" was more of a metaphorical phrase and then all of a sudden I found myself desperate to stretch my muscles because they'd start to cramp up. I'd go out to area parks in the middle of the night and climb on their jungle gyms and do pushups. I was living with my dad at the time and he had no idea I'd even started testosterone - my mother figured it out first, actually, and told him. And seeing as within 24 hour of me coming out (at 15) he said that I couldn't transition under his roof, I wasn't thrilled by the idea. He also seemed to think testosterone was A Dangerous and Mystical Steroid and not like, a hormone - in fact, he still thinks "my hormones" are something very different from his... and they sort of are, because he's in his 70s, so I have considerably more testosterone than he'll ever have again. Within those first six months, my muscle and bone grew under the fat before it would redistribute, so I looked worryingly puffy. And one day, my dad came into my room looking concerned and pissed off, and... lunged at me? Like, shoved his chest out towards me. And I didn't react because... what are we, animals?! Who does that?! I think he thought I was coming for his boring, brutal masculinity - like, no dude; I'm good, thanks. I can't think of a bigger blessing than my dad pointedly never seeing me as his son and therefore never engaging in how my masculinity developed. I never wanted all that violence - and I never had the anger that other trans men talk about. Yes, totally: on testosterone, it is easier to shove down unwanted emotions and indulge in anger, but it doesn't cause anger. I'd already done plenty of research trying to find the best solution, in all honesty, to my dad - even now, he's addicted to his own rage. He explodes, it feels satisfying to indulge in that, he calms down, and then he needs his fix again. The research I've read on it essentially finds that the emotions you indulge in are the ones that are going to come up more - if you try to "get out" your anger, you'll just need to "get it out" again, in an ever-replenishing cycle. I started looking at it like inertia, and while I can't do anything to save my parents, at least I can try my best to indulge in something better. And of course I get angry - I'm still mortal. But it's increasingly easier to just sit with my own discomfort in those moments. It's harder these days - working out really does help, and pools are verboten - but even that ground work of trying to be more mindful, trying to indulge more in kindness and compassion, trying to help people (and myself) grow has been maybe the thing I'm most proud of doing in my life thus far. And I feel like there are a lot of men - not just trans men, but also especially trans men - who need to hear these things. Whatever traditional or mainstream masculinity even is at this point, it's killing people - and it's killing a lot of men. And even in its more affable forms, it's abusing a lot of women. The fact that it took decades of trauma and research to find out that being regularly yelled at is (very generally) as bad as being physically abused is troubling to me, but more troubling is that even some forms of physical abuse are still being defended! The research on "spanking" is unfortunately very clear: it causes brain damage that lead to further problems. You know, like you'd expect with physical abuse. And I know almost no parents who spank their kids think they're doing any real harm... but when science is so unequivocal about something, it's time for us to stop this narrative. Intention is information to be sure, but there's real harm in focusing solely on intention.
I'm hoping I can expand on more of this - and, more dreadfully, edit - but I want to start getting something actually written. I mean, if not now... when?