I fucking hate cis men
Stop it. Stop looking at her. Stop smiling at her. Fuck off. She gave you
the cafe’s internet password, not her fucking number.
I’m honestly surprised how hard I’m taking Jose’s death. I know that it’s
probably not a lot to do with him; we barely knew each other. I just know
that I’m grieving and all of this feels really hard and complicated. More
complicated than I have the energy to get into in any detail right now.
It’s a personal loss. It’s a professional loss. It’s brought out all of my
insecurity and exhaustion surrounding grad school. It’s just hard.
It’s almost 6 am and I couldn’t sleep so I stayed up watching Xena, so I
guess there’s that. I haven’t watched this show since I was a kid. I used
to watch it with my dad in easier times.
'Queerness is a longing that propels us onward, beyond romances of the
negative and toiling in the present. Queerness is that thing that lets us
feel that this world is not enough, that indeed something is
missing…Queerness is essentially about the rejection of a here and now and
an insistence on potentiality or concrete possibility for another world.’
-José Esteban Muñoz
José’s work first showed me the possibilities opened up through
scholarship. Longing right now for the potentiality of the world he has
left us to struggle toward. He was the backbone of my department and of
queer and of color scholarship. He was such a titan in his field and yet
what I remember most right now is his youthful fidgeting and allergy to
So I’m curious if any of you have any feelings about transition and
mourning… not about other people mourning (like our parents because
fucking everybody writes about how parents mourn their kids when they
transition) but about /your/ mourning. For an old life, an old body,
anything. I’ve been thinking a lot about how the narrative of disavowing
our old lives and bodies is forced on us. Even if we we are very happy in
our new lives/bodies does that still mean that we can’t having feelings of
melancholy about what we’ve left behind? Is there no room to honor what was
before? To say goodbye to it?
Does anybody else have any feelings about this? I’m going to be up front:
I’ve been thinking about this a lot because I am going through a personal
process of grieving for my body as I draw closer to my top surgery date.
I’m happy to be doing the surgery, but I’m still melancholy about it. I
often feel complicated about the girl I was a long time ago too. I want to
write a paper about what kinds of narratives trans people are allowed to
have and which ones we aren’t. I would super love to talk to other people
about it. You can message me, but I actually prefer email. My email is
To be clear: I am only asking for input from trans people.
Now actually in its entirety! I just finished Stone Butch Blues and it’s made me think about some things.
The entire time I’ve identified as trans, or even when thought I might be trans, I’ve stayed the hell away from trans men and even non binary FAAB people who chose to medically transition. If I’m being honest, I felt humiliated by them. At first it was because I thought we were all freaks and I didn’t want to draw attention to my own freakdown. They were happy to identify as trans, at least the ones who found community in each other, and I was humiliated to call myself trans. Later it became because I was afraid to be associated with the misogyny that trans men are so often accused of. “I’m not like that” I said to myself. Part of it is that I’m carrying some baggage and it’s hard for me to find community with anybody who calls themselves a man. Regardless of what it was, with a few exceptions, I ran the other way from other people like me.