Posts Tagged ‘gender’

Blue is not a “boy color.”

May 4th, 2016 2 comments
found here: Profeminist

found here: Profeminist

So yesterday, I had the last part of my cleaning. I was supposed to get some fillings, too, but I rescheduled those because PMS is an ugly monster and I don’t want to go to jail for shoving a drill up my dentist’s ass.

That’s literally the only thing that gets to me about going to the dentist, now that I’ve been going about once a week. The drill. That shit is annoying. It rattles my whole head, and it whines like a bitch in heat, and even when I’m not so enraged about nothing because my hormones are out of control and my uterus is trying to kill me, I want to shout, “Hey, bitch! Could you get on with it, already? That shit’s fucking annoying!”

It’s great motivation for taking damn good care of my teeth, though. I’ll do just about anything to avoid having drills in my mouth again after my final filling appointment.

When we get there, there’s a lady holding her child (biologically female) on her hip, and keeping an eye on her friend’s infant (biologically male). The infant sneezes, and his blue pacifier pops out of his mouth. The child suddenly realizes she doesn’t have her pink pacifier, so she reaches into the stroller to take the infant’s.

Mom takes the infant’s pacifier from the child and says, “No, that’s his pacifier. Blue is for boys. It’s a boy color. Here’s your pacifier. It’s pink. Pink is for girls.”


I wanted to say something, but it’s not my business. They’re not my children. It’s not my place to school a stranger at the dentist on how she raises her child.

But, man. I really wanted to.

What would you have done?

Edited to add:

And then this happened: This boy with a doll told off a judgemental toy shop customer with just four words.

Isn’t it funny how the gender police are not at all worried about telling people how to care for their children?

Categories: Rayne Tags:

I don’t know what to say.

January 20th, 2016 Comments off

This isn’t going to be a long post. I actually had something else planned for today, but then YouTube sent me down a rabbit hole that made me sad and angry and confused…I’m not sure what I want to say, or even that I should say anything. I just feel like I need to. Maybe that’s my privilege speaking. I dunno.

So, in my “Suggestions For You” box on YT, there was a video entitled “Why I’m Detransitioning.”

After staring at the thumbnail for a couple minutes, wondering why YT was suggesting this for me, I clicked. I needed to see. To understand.

Ultimately, it’s none of my business. And maybe I don’t actually need to understand because I’m not trans. But I’m inquisitive, and I like to understand people, and so I watched the video. And then I watched it again. And again.

In it, a transwoman talks about how hard transitioning is, particularly for people who don’t live or work in accepting areas. From “passing”, to the financial burden due to surgeries and court costs, to problems that arise with employment, to making changes to government-issued identification, to societal views, to acceptance from their family and friends…transitioning is hard af. On top of body dysmorphia, and any mental health issues that come with that, transitioning can be crippling. Read more…

Should taxpayers pay for gender reassignment surgery?

June 11th, 2011 5 comments

There’s a subject on which I’m completely torn, and I don’t talk about it because I’m not really sure whether or not I have the right to talk about it, and I can’t tell you how utterly stupid that is. Because they are the minority and they need the support of the majority. Without the support of the majority, the movement raised in support of equality will fizzle and die. Yet, parts of this group continue to tell those of us not within the parameters they deem worthy that we have no right to an opinion, and certainly shouldn’t be trying to force our opinion, whatever that may be, upon those of us who don’t share our position in life. Whatever that means.

I get the notion of privilege, and the idea that I’m more privileged than a black woman simply because of the color of my skin disgusts me, but I won’t pretend I don’t see it every day when I’m mingling among the masses we call society. It’s apparent in the way people of every color trust me more than sometimes people of their own race or nationality. It’s noticeable in the ease with which people slip into conversation with me, and aren’t uncomfortable if I stand too close, and don’t mind leaving me with their prized possessions while they do something in another room. Read more…

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