Adult Trans People in Transition Are Being Raped
something we are farthest from seeing as a community that we should endeavor to understand as quickly as possible
Full-disclosure—I just breathed my way through a panic attack after writing the title and heading.
Trans people who are adults and begin transition later in life are free to do as they please. There is a reality to the psychological transformation happening alongside the physical. Doing this amongst a full-speed and packed-to-the-brim society of hyper stress is an impossible notion to fully quantify for those who haven’t lived through it. Even those transitioning have different perceptions of the inner-self and its change or lack-thereof within.
Above the fact it’s simply disgusting for the hearts of children into their teens to be tortured by society’s protections upon predators of class—statutory rape is most horrific for the way it shatters a becoming of adulthood, reforming a person in different ways than nature might’ve provided, taking advantage of hormonal confusion and actions bore from those coursing urges which are later regretted holistically.
Transitioning within the flow of adulthood, to me, was seen as opening a door. I was allowing a new self to be born, one suppressed from existing to begin with. Having recognized the way I understood and wanted to be felt by myself—along with the complete lack of space for it—I’d willingly suppressed the making of my own feminine embodiment from the age of seven.
Hormone Replacement Therapy was startling. It was felt immediately upon connection to my changing physiology—strangest kinship to my teenage self—undeniable remembrance of an inexplicable part of me in motion of thought and change which had been unfelt since school ages.
There is no way, from my perspective, to truly consent by means that are satisfactory—even with ‘consenting adults’—for trans folks within the tides of that change; pushed by hormones to act out for receiving love that would be most detrimental if delivered by cruel hands or in the wrong ways, unknowing of self and craving for becoming despite.
Sex with adolescent trans people is exploitive by nature and it’s messing up the mental and emotional development and maturity of trans adults who are then being blamed out of hand for their psyches and cast from society at large.
I am and always have been—when in connection to the true nature of my personality; my heart and spirit—someone that is of an asexual nature.
I’ve only been able to discover this by retroactively unpacking the breadth of my transitionary trauma. I was just a people pleasing adolescent woman in a transitioning body that others saw as adult, male, and elderly compared to the younger, youthful faces of queer community from which I’m still unincluded.
People choose to see me as what they want at every moment. Queerness has been colonized.
The most vulnerable are seen as the infiltrators, while privilege-denying bisexual cis women who have claimed the space are in control. Those women choose to see me the predator and twist those who should be my friends to their side using the power of their pussies, and the social control which people of their like—cisgendered women—have been steering the world to hell with from the shadows for all of history, claiming victim throughout, never once to acknowledge their own corrupted and imperialistic nature.
Cisgendered women are not oppressed as a class, and they hate it when they’re made to see—so they make themselves the star of the show, as always—then take my community space and let me die and laugh with those they’ve taken to their side about how I thought I’d deserved a place to begin with. They took queer community for themselves because they saw it thriving and were bored and wanted the attention on them.
When I was seeking romantic relationships—people got to pick and choose with me and take nothing but what they wanted. I was either the cute girl who was a biggest sweetheart—some hotty who threw it down—or a creepy man playing victim within a station I chose. Sometimes, all three at once.
Meanwhile, I’m the saddest young girl imaginable inside, and was mostly looking for a best friend. I’d only just found my heart and was looking to love with it. Now, I’ve been traumatized and raped to stay this way forever. I’m a big kid and I don’t think it’s changing. I think you all made it stick.
I’ve been traumatized so long and with such little support while within my transitionary feminine adolescence that I’ve never grown up. My inner teenager is young, and locked in. She’s a rage monster—that’s who I am, and the anxiety is crippling. I’m walking around like a spiteful teenage girl who the whole of society has labelled the problem, with no parents or support, and peers that see me as wild and unworthy of true companionship, while being expected to maintain my finances and plan a life for myself and my daughter—which now feels entirely outside of my capacity.
I’m blamed for what I’ve been made and I know it’s not right—so, I just want to burn everything down. The idea of doing anything that’s not ‘finally being helped by someone who cares,’ is not acceptable and sends me into panic attacks. It’s simply not right for other people to have done this to me and I will not continue to be the giving angel of love who is taken from.
Time is up now. Someone has to help. I’m still a great mother but I cannot take care of myself practically in this world and that’s okay, because I tried, and people took the ability to do that from me by abusing me emotionally, spiritually, physically, and sexually while making me to blame because I’m a big, tall woman with the wrong parts.
This world messed me up. I was a meditation instructor. I was a healer. I was the gentlest sharer of compassionate and loving compassion I knew—and it was all free of charge—everything I ever did was given to people. I don’t manipulate for money with my art or creation or intention. It’s wrong to do that. Yet people still found a way to take it all and not respect the offering. People saw me transition and lost faith in my rightness of heart. I lost access to community spaces of women I had built myself that were only acceptable when I was a ‘good hearted man.’ Those spaces had me find myself. My healing led me to transition. Then the world raped me to death.
It wasn’t my hormones. It wasn’t my ideas about myself. It was being raped as an adolescent trans woman in ways our society does not see or acknowledge, then being raped by a blind society’s harshest malicious targeting intellectually, then being raped by lying manipulators who offer tales of friendship and love and family to get my walls down and take physically.
I have no community now—at least, that unowned by cis women who despise reflection of my authentic feminine nature, as I’m a mirror for the dark truth of their burgeoning genital cult—finding myself upon some invisible, lowest rung of the falsest hierarchy of all, which goes unseen in totality itself; the egoistic hierarchy of rape and what is deserved in response.
This is a problem.
You all need to do better for trans people—trans women in particular.
