So Much for Tolerance

Hazumu »

Sun Nov 16, 2008 7:05 am Agree: 2   Disagree: 0

In grade school and junior high, I was a bully-magnet due to my inherent and ultimately un-hide-able femininity. Until 6th grade, I ran from confrontations, but I was caught and teased-tortured-terrorized-beaten anyway.

One rainy day, I couldn't avoid the bully clique as they walked by me in the crowded hall during recess. As each passed, they would sneak-punch me hard. The clique's low man on the ladder got 'brave', and began wailing on me openly. I lost it and, in a focused rage, turned him from aggressor to aggressed. It took two teachers to pull me off him.

For two years, I did not back down from fights. I avoided them if possible, but if the opponent 'insited', I obliged. I won at least two thirds of the fights.

Those I lost, the 'winner' paid for with some sort of mark. "The p***y gave you a fat lip!" "But I gave him a black eye..." "But the p***y GAVE YOU A FAT LIP!!!!
(ha ha ha...)"

I received a spanking from the principal for each fight. It taught me that the principal was a hypocrite. I also learned that I could not trust the other adults to protect me, or even take my side in the altercations. I believe some secretly felt that an effeminate boy 'deserved' the attention, and were secretly hoping it would 'beat the gay out' of me.

After two years, the fights and challenges finally ended. So did the name-calling, and a majority of people actually showed me respect. Those that thought otherwise knew to keep it to themselves.

When we advanced from junior high to high school, I appeared instantly on the radars of the bullies from the other junior high schools, and experienced three weeks of probing from them.

But the probing fell off and disappeared during the fourth week. A friend told me years later the bullies from my school had told the new bullies about my performance in junior high, and the new bullies decided I wasn't worth it.

Potty Politics

Hazumu »

Sun Jun 08, 2008 1:42 am Agree: 2   Disagree: 0

Hi;

May I interject a real life situation. I’d like to hear your guidance on this.

My mother was given a drug to take to lessen the chance of miscarriage and promote healthy babies — that’s what the doctor told her. The drug is Diethylstilbestrol, or DES. In male fetuses, it feminizes the brains of one in five of us ‘DES sons’.

I finally came to terms with this, and realized my choice was transition or die. So, I’m now a male-to-female transsexual who’s had ‘the operation.’ I’ve changed all my legal paperwork and although I still have a male body with XY chromosomes, it has been retrofitted to approximate female anatomy, which is good because if I ever end up in an accident, there will be no ’surprise’ for the first responders.

I ‘pass’ very well, thank you. Only rarely do strangers figure out I was not born this way. Most people have to be told, by me, or, more often, by someone else who just has to ‘drop the bomb.’

So my question to you is — knowing what you know now about me, and assuming for the moment you get absolute power to make the determination — which restroom and changing facility do you feel I, a male-to-female transsexual, should use when in public spaces?

I eagerly await your responses;

Hazumu Osaragi