Category Archives: Feminism

“I’m not into trans”


[artist cred: Sophie Labelle who’s paid stuff can be found here: . Sorry! I couldn’t find the actual source for this comic in her Tumblr archive and didn’t want to link back to one of those anti-trans meme sites!

description: a comic of a white cis man looking defensive sitting in bed with a white trans woman looking done with this. The caption for the comic says, “why didn’t you tell me you were trans before we slept together multiple times? I mean, don’t take it personally, but I’m not into trans women…” and “huh yes, you were very much into me, you’re just very transphobic.” and with a caption under the entire comic that says, “geez…”


I like to do text base role play. It’s one of my major coping mechanisms for life. I’ve been doing it since I was 14 and have likely written thousands of pages worth of stories and smut over the decade and a half since I began. I’ve spent now more than half of my life engaging in this medium.

I roleplay because I get to be people I’m not. I get to do things I can’t have. Namely, I get to pretend that I’m worthy of romance and sex. I can pretend that someone desires me enough to want to touch my body. To build a life with me. To do the things I so desperately dream of but can’t have.

A few hours ago, I asked one of my RP partners if I could play a trans woman with a vag like myself. His response to my vulnerable request to be me was to say that, “I’m not into trans”.

Continue reading “I’m not into trans”

The Spectre of Trans Women of Colour


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Description: a faded, black feminine silouette standing with hands up pressing up against the screen. This silouette is against what looks like a white screen or background, like it’s some kind of barrier between the presumably woman and the viewer.]

This piece is in response to a moment that occurred the other week (I wrote part of this, cooled off, came back to it, and finished it). I was at a really cool talk on trans necropolitics. But as I looked around the room, I noticed I was the only trans woman in the room listening to a lecture by a trans man of colour interviewed by an tenured white trans man professor. (Both of whose work I appreciate).

Hearing about brutally murdered trans women of colour and being in the room where no one else was a trans woman of colour was so distressing for me that I ran out of the room.

After reflecting on my reaction, I realized it was rash for me to leave, but at the same time, I’d like to stand with my choice even if it wasn’t the nicest thing I’ve ever done. By me leaving a talk as a trans woman of colour, it begs a few questions. Where are the other trans women and trans femme folks? Where were the white trans women when there were white trans men present? Why aren’t there any trans women of colour in the room when they’re the focus of the talk? Why does it feel so uncomfortable when I speak about trans women of colour when I’m white passing?

The talk was haunted by the spectre of trans women of colour.

Continue reading The Spectre of Trans Women of Colour

Going From Fag to Hag: My Transition From Gay Boy to Trans Girl


[Image description: On the left is Laverne Cox, a black trans woman actress/activist known for her role in Orange is the New Black and her vocal support of trans/black communities. On the right is all black with white text. It says, “It is revolutionary for any trans person to choose to be seen and visible in a world that tells us we should not exist. -Laverne Cox- AZ Quotes.

Retrieved from: ]

***Fag and hag are both considered terms that can be homophobic and sexist under certain circumstances. I’m using them here because they were ways that I and some of my communities joked about and used ironically/half seriously. I’m also using them to demonstrate the dynamic shift that I’ve experienced since transition. These aren’t terms to use freely.

Once upon a time, I was a bisexual/gay/queer/I’m confused boy-ish critter. I was pretty young and naive and believed in a politicized queer community. It took 7/8 years for me to go from that to jaded, frosty transfeminine critter. This journey was filled with oppression of varying sorts. I’m writing this to document for any questioning critters out there who internalized all sorts of grossness. I’m also writing this as a big fuck you to the psychiatric bullshit that categorized trans women (who were acknowledged as trans women) as either “homosexual transsexuals” and “autogynophiles”.

Homosexual Transsexuals were trans women who were exclusively into men prior to transition. Autogynophiles were trans women who were exclusively into women prior to transition. Notice the lack of bi/pansexuals, ace spectrum, and non-binary folks here. The ideal situation was the Homosexual Transsexual who’d become a “heterosexual woman” through the process and forget about life prior to transition. Autogynophiles were understood to be an extreme fetishist where the trans woman would get off to femininity (of both herself and other women). Both of these terms were coined by a non-trans sexologist, Ray Blanchard and demonstrate the violence of having white non-trans men theorizing about bodies that aren’t like their’s. Theorizing about people’s experiences and bodies should never be in the hands of those who don’t live it.

I’m still hella gay even though I’m transfeminine. I’m always going to be gay and it doesn’t matter what my gender identity. I’m too queer to function. My feminine gender is how I express my queerness, it does not make me straight.

Continue reading Going From Fag to Hag: My Transition From Gay Boy to Trans Girl

What Undesirability Looks Like


[Image taken from:

Description: a red circle with a horizontal white line cutting through it and the words, “access denied” flanking the line.]

I recently came back from a life-changing workshop with a bunch of trans women writers and I definitely learned a lot while there.

But not everything was sunshine and roses. Actually, I felt excluded, less valuable, less part of the group at times. Now reflecting on the whole experience, I realized a number of things were going on. I felt awkward being surrounded by people who I had just met and a number who already knew/were dating each other. They would split off and do their own things or hang around in their circles and I’ve always found it hard to enter conversations. My autism manifests in part as strong writing skills and obvious weaknesses in non-verbal communication. Aka, I’m good behind a computer screen, but I’m a socially awkward turtle in real life around strangers. With friends and in classrooms, I’m more an annoying chatterbox that probably talks too much.

I was also cut off from my support network because I didn’t have data in the US and didn’t have my crew to turn to. This resulted me into curling inside myself like a child in fetal position and I was just so upset that I lost the ability to speak for a bit. I can’t recall the last time I became so upset that I became non-verbal. None of this helped in making connections with the people around me. I didn’t have any friends to step in and help ease me into conversation with strangers.

I eventually got a little support from a couple people which I’m super grateful for. It definitely helped a lot. But the point of me writing is not about the people who were supportive. I’m writing this piece to draw attention to the production and creation of undesirable bodies.

Continue reading What Undesirability Looks Like

A Pride Reminder…


[Take from:

Description: a black and white photo taken probably at a rally or protest. Marsha P. Johnson, a black trans woman, is handing out pamphlets to people on the left side of the picture. The eye is equally drawn to the picture of a young black person with a curly head of hair. They’re holding up a sign that says, “Come out of [two women symbols] your ivory [two male symbols] [trans symbol] towers & into the street”.]

It’s that time of year again. Pride. Or at least it is here in Toronto. I’m of course, gearing up for Pride like a lot of people breaking out the glitter and picking out an outfit in hopes to impress the queers and friends that I’ll bump into later today. But I was reminded today that this isn’t a party.

I’m reminded once again of how so many of my friends, how many people in my community, are poor, on OW/ODSP/other forms of social assistance, and struggle to eke out an existence. Particularly my transfeminine friends, many of whom are disabled or of colour. I chose this image of Marsha P Johnson to remind everyone that it was trans women of colour sex worker who started the movement which we now know as “gay rights”. Additionally, the sign beside her is a reminder that rights isn’t about just academic theory, law, or policy, it’s about human lives, human experiences.

That being said, what are we doing to make the lives of our friends, our community better?

Continue reading A Pride Reminder…

I Feel Ugly

This piece is revised from a Facebook post I made. The night I wrote this, I was feeling angsty and I was hurting too much. I have no clue what set it off, but my usual chronic feeling of -part of me is missing and I need to complete it like I need to breathe, eat, or sleep-  decided to push itself to the forefront of my mind/body. I decided to work on my little rant further because other people chimed in with similar feelings. Here’s to hoping that it’ll have a little more impact now.


Continue reading I Feel Ugly

The Legend of Green Snake


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Description: Two snake/human hybrids are depicted in this picture lounging in a bed of plants. Both snake/human hybrids appear to be young, Chinese women with long black hair. The green snake/human hybrid is laughing holding onto the white snake/human hybrid who is making a face.]

So! A couple months ago, I attended this series of workshops/community study called, “Through Thick and Thin” which was about fat queer women’s experiences. The culminating project for Through Thick and Thin was to make a video.

My video is a re-writing of a famous Chinese tale called the Legend of White Snake. The original story is more or less, about two snake spirits/demons named Green Snake and White Snake. White Snake falls in love with a human man named Xu Xian and eventually marries him. But shenanigans happen to try and divide their heterosexual union. Anyways. The story has numerous versions so I thought I could write my own. I felt connected to the potential queerness (femmeslash) of the story and felt it tied to my blood. Continue reading The Legend of Green Snake

Why I Feel Ambivalent Towards “Love Yourself”


Taken from:

[Description: Two figures, one with green skin and black hair, and the other with pale skin that is almost blue with platinum blonde hair touch foreheads with their eyes closed and hands intertwined. Between their hands is a light. The caption under them says, “No One Mourns the Wicked”. This is all on a black background with the artist’s signature in the bottom right corner.]

I’ve always been a fat child. I was born with a physical disability and inherited a couple genetic mutations from my father in the form of “deformed” fingernails. I was in a car accident as a small child which left a visible scar above my right eye. My body was operated on as an infant non-consensually in order to, “correct” my physical disability (it didn’t work and left behind tons of trauma).

Continue reading Why I Feel Ambivalent Towards “Love Yourself”

The Titanium-Enforced Glass Ceiling

Many of us have heard of the glass ceiling that Second Wave feminists talked about. For those who don’t know, the glass ceiling is a metaphor sometimes used for the struggle (white cishet) women face trying to procure employment. They can look up and see all these opportunities above them and they watch as some people (usually white cishet men in this case) ascend to those opportunities. When they try to ascend to the opportunities above, they hit an invisible wall.


[Description: A comic depicting two corporate white men staring at the ground which consists of a multitude of women reaching up unable to breach through the invisible/glass floor/ceiling. The caption says, “A ceiling? All this time I thought it was a floor.”]

I’ve spent the past decade trying to find paid employment. Most of my resume is volunteer/honorarium work. I was part of what I like to call the first generation of queer youth who had access to queer youth space. I developed a skill set and interest in queer youth social service work. I’d like to say that I’m skilled and have highly valuable insights. But finding employment has been a struggle. I see some of my former classmates who are making $80,000 a year doing work that I’ve done for free. I also can’t help but notice that I have twice the skills and experience of said former classmates (who are incidentally white and cishet). I don’t see very many people like me or other marginalized folks in positions of power. The only times I have found employment, it’s been where they were explicitly looking for someone with my identities (or were hiring en masse). If I was born a cishet, white, able bodied man like my dad, I wonder if I would be running an organization by now. I’m highly ambitious and have a lot to give, but employers don’t seem to want to value my skills with money. Although if I want to give them my knowledge for free while they pay someone with more privilege than I do, they’ll gladly have me around. No matter what I do, it feels like I can’t break that barrier between “(f)unemployed” and “gainfully employed”. I’m not Laverne Cox. I’m not Temple Grandin. I’m not so exceptional that I can defy all odds. The glass ceiling isn’t just there, it’s re-enforced with titanium so that it’s not actually breakable. Update: This has everything to do with respectability politics.

I could go on and rant about how difficult it is for me to get jobs, but it’s not a productive conversation. Yes, discrimination exists. It’s not useful for me to prove if individual employers discriminate because it’s so pervasive that it’s nearly impossible to tell. It would require far too much energy to prove the point and would only burn bridges with people that are my community or will still be prospective employers for years to come.

What I do find useful is talking about the structures (titanium) that enforce the glass ceiling that I face. Or in simpler terms, why jobs and the whole system of employment is designed for someone like me to fail. I argue that the way employment is structured is a form of violence.

As a disabled person, I experience the world differently from other people. The system of the world was not designed for someone like me. I love to say that I navigate the world blissfully ignorant of a lot of what’s going on. I don’t read or don’t pay much attention to the non-verbal things around me. (I’m usually thinking and processing a million things, there’s no space in my brain to process such petty things as non-verbal language…) I can’t always hear what people say especially in loud spaces. I don’t act or react to things “appropriately”. I’m not respectable in how I take up space in the world. And because of this, I’m understood as less capable, less skilled, and less valid of a worker. Why hire someone who is odd and alien when there’s someone who’s skinny, transmasculine or cis, or has a normative body and brain patterns? It also doesn’t help that many people apply for one, maybe two jobs and so employers are forced to choose who is most worthy to be paid.

My experiences are far from alone. My primary barrier is stigma which blocks me from developing networks to gain skills and paid employment. In real life terms, my disabilities don’t limit me from much. I’ll never be able to work a job that requires hearing depth perception (not common) but I find ways to cope. I’ve been disabled my whole life and have developed a lot of coping mechanism to deal with ableist structures.

I knew someone who can’t work in fast-paced environment because it triggered their anxiety. I know someone who can’t work an 8 hour work day due to spoons. Then there are folks whose skills are undermined because they have a learning disability or use a chair. Or a host of other disabilities that aren’t addressed or stigmatized by traditional forms of employment.  It’s no wonder that less than half of all disabled people aren’t employed.

I’ve considered sex work as an alternative to traditional employment. But due to my history of being trafficked and all my gender dysphoria/body trauma/Aspie brain things, it’s not the wisest of ideas. I’ve considered domination seriously and may still consider it. Sex work always looms as a form of survival work for many trans/cis women especially those on the margins. It’s no surprise that there is an overrepresentation of trans women/POC/disabled folks doing sex work. We are the outcast, mostly ones who can’t fit in this violent system of employment. It’s very telling about whose skills are being valued, who’s skills are being encouraged and build, and who are falling between the cracks.

In order to get where I want to go in life, it feels like I’d need a whole community there for me ready to go to bat. To block out the voices that think I’m not useful and replace them with affirmations, to help create a safe space where I can forge a path and do what I want to. I need people there to work with me, that need me to go to bat for them and to help care for them while they help me process the world around me. It’s only through intentional community making and working together that I feel like change can happen to dismantle violent employment systems.

This is only a beginning of a conversation. Much needs to change and change won’t happen immediately. In an ideal world for me, all people would have all their basic needs met for food, housing, etc. All kinds of work would be recognized as valid. People could work however/whenever they want because we all depend on one another to make things run. But this isn’t an ideal world. We have to find direct ways to survive.

Here are my suggestions:

Invest in people – Communities are made up of individuals. Being open to hiring/having diverse folks is not enough. Like older feminist/POC movements, we see that many folks cannot gain the skills to be hirable in the first place. Yet cishet normie white boys (and some girls) get paid work, training, and opportunities to gain skills because of their, “potential”. We need to intentionally build relationships with marginalized folks who experience barriers and share/build skills. Marginalized youth become marginalized adults many of whom still need to access services because the system fails them. Once again, we don’t see the kind of “diversity” that we as a queer community talk about and champion.

Work with people – Since I was a baby queer, I’ve been asked to give workshops to various service providers on how to better work with queer/trans (and other identities) youth. In that time, I’ve rarely seen an openly queer person, few visible POC, no visibly disabled people, and no trans women at these trainings. It feels like all I’m doing is giving my expertise to people who have careers so they can be less awful. Yet I still feel like I’m not gaining any skills to try to do the work they do. In the last point, I talked about developing relationships. People who have established careers could very well learn from queer/trans/POC/disabled etc. folks while working with them.

Mutually develop skills – In building intentional relationships with folks from marginalized identities, career people can gain knowledge on how to best work with marginalized folks through feedback, support, and hands on experience. The career people should in turn give opportunities, feedback, mentorship, and support in developing skills for the marginalized person they’re working with. The purpose is for the marginalized person is to gain skills so they can be employable more sustainably than a one time workshop and for folks with careers to have opportunities to gain more skills than a one-time workshop. This should of course be a paid opportunity with a regular income because survival is incredibly difficult especially in cities like Toronto where the cost of living is so high…

Intentionally make people part of your communities – Many marginalized folks don’t have much community support. I’m privileged for the knowledge and mastery I have over finding the right people. I’m privileged for passing for white and having a very high degree of education/language. But I have friends for whom they have only a couple people who have their backs. And having people who have your back really helps when shit goes down and it will go down at some point. This means developing relationships where you depend on the other person hopefully just as much they depend on you. This takes time and you may not always get it right. There are also people who are too toxic or hurting or just don’t jive with you. You aren’t being forced to have anyone that isn’t right in your communities, but I encourage everyone to see the commonalities between different populations. But this also means that you aren’t a hero or a saviour having friends who are marginalized in various ways. They are your friend, not your trophy to tell others that you’re not bigoted.

Dating – In addition, many marginalized folks may not get many dates. Once again, no one is forcing you to date someone you don’t want to, but it’d be great if you took a moment and evaluate how your learned behaviours may impact who you find sexy. I read a study done on OKCupid, a popular dating app and it showed that all racial populations were willing to respond to messages by white people regardless of gender and sexuality but were least likely to respond to messages by black people. All other racial categories were somewhere in the middle. I hear phrases within queer communities, trans communities, POC communities, and disability communities that someone wouldn’t date a trans woman.  Disabled folks are rarely on the radar of desirability outside of disabled communities. This isn’t a thing about preferring certain bodies, this is about how some bodies are understood as, “wrong” as, “not worthy” as, “not human”. And who you’re willing to date has something to say about who you’re willing to hire or make community with.

We are all complicit and all responsible to oppression in all aspects of our lives. This isn’t an attack on any one person, but it is something I want everyone to think about. In what ways am I complicit in oppression? What can I do with the privileges I have to educate myself on these oppressions? What can I do? I hope that this changes how people think somewhat.

Really awesome article I found that I wanted to link to: clicky

One Direction, Fandom, and White Supremacy

I went to a One Direction concert a couple days ago. (FYI, Leeyum was delicious and wet and sprayed down the other boys with a fire extinguisher… THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER IS HIS PENIS, the absence of Zayn in the harmonies sounds profoundly wrong, and it was lovely hanging out with friends and going to my very first stadium-sized concert).


Photo taken by Shane Camastro.

[Description: A dark stadium lit up with a few spot lights. THOUSANDS of people can be seen in seats on the ground and filling two upper tiers to the brim. Two silhouettes in the foreground can be seen of two figures with hands raised.]

As I surveyed the audience from the nosebleed seats, I couldn’t help but notice how many people were there. I heard it was estimated 10,000 people were in the stadium. In the nosebleed seats, there were a lot more families with young children (both boys and girls) but the vast majority of the seats were taken up by (white) girls and young adults.

On the one hand, seeing so many girls in one place was empowering. It’s not every day that you see a sea of girls in one place. Exiting the stadium post-concert, I exclaimed to my companions that it looked like a mob of zombies in front of us due to the sheer number of people. I naively imagined that we could enact powerful change with such numbers. Imagine if the money for the tickets to see this concert were instead collected and used to create more sustainable systems of food production… Over many concerts, this money could change the world!

Continue reading One Direction, Fandom, and White Supremacy