Supercharged Femininity in Trans Girls

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I’ve just advised a nice (and genetically integrated) lady on a forum. She found out that her boyfriend is secretly fascinated by trans girl porn and now she’s concerned that he’s gay.

Really, they should be talking to each other instead, and maybe he’s “bi” not gay, and there are many other things one can say that might be helpful.

However, the main issue to her is: if a guy is fascinated by trans girls, then does that provide insight into his sexuality so that she (and whomever else) can conclude he’s actually attracted to guys to some extent, sexually?

Superficially, the answer is “of course” because what makes a trans girl a trans girl (as opposed to a genetically integrated girl) is her ability to write her name in the snow. Certainly that’s a useful skill to have. But also, what makes a trans girl a trans girl (as opposed to a guy) is her brain. Isn’t that by far the organ that overwhelmingly most defines who and what a person is? To many people, “outie” as opposed to “innie” plumbing is the defining characteristic of being male. For barnyard animals, that’s probably a good standard. However, since scientists have shown that it’s a matter of hard, validated fact that some humans are born with “outie” plumbing yet female brain structure, so we would be prudent to consider the brain the more fundamentally defining organ since that’s what most makes someone who he or she is.

When I was trying to figure myself out, I saw a really wonderful counselor. Very quickly, she’d helped me reach the point where I could objectively conclude that, wow, indeed, I’m a girl brain-wise. Even so, I wanted to be super-extra-sure so I insisted on more yet, so I did the Stanford BEM gender brain test, whose test results showed that I wasn’t just female but in the 85th percentile, as in: if you put me in a line-up with 19 other girls arranged left to right from least to most feminine, brain-wise, then I’d be third from the right.

Was that a nice bonus for me? No. I should not have been surprised. A trans girl, I am brain-wise so intensely female that I overcame all the “you’re a guy” messages from my parents, my friends, and the square-jawline image in the mirror. In spite of all that, I knew who I was. It just took me a long time to stop denying and evading it. My femininity rose as an unsuppressable force.

For that reason, I consider myself and many of the trans girls I’ve met as hyperfeminine. Our feminity is so strong that we overcame the barrage of opposition we’ve faced on the subject of what gender we are. From our most sensitive years, the most influential people in our lives sent us “you’re a guy” messages and even so we managed to finally rise about that.

In addition, we have typically been immersed in guy culture so that’s all we know, and our bodies are awash in testosterone – and even so, our feminity is so strong that it overcame all of that. We overcame violence, ridicule and risk of ostracism — bottom line, we overcame.

If she’s like me, then by the time a trans girl comes out, she’s typically feeling inadequate and inferior. She tries to compensate by outwardly also being hyperfeminine in how she dresses, what make-up she wears, how she moves, etc. For example, it’s 6 a.m. and I’ve just had to move my car from one parking spot to another, and yet here I sit dressed in sexy 4” heels, a tight-fitting pink top that shows off my boobs, and a cute short skirt. I wore that for the maybe 3 minutes I was outside. Did I hope anyone would see that? No. I would prefer nobody did since I’d rather not raise eyebrows so close to where I live. I dressed this way for myself, to celebrate my femininity.

As to why guys are fascinated by trans girls, here is my opinion after growing up in guy culture: Many guys are intrigued in secret by male-shaped plumbing and anal sensuality. If that makes a guy gay then pretty much every guy on the planet is gay so that’s not a good standard.  Let’s dig deeper.

For a guy to be fascinated by these body parts is culturally generally considered a no-no so the guy feels guilty. As a result, we have the necessary raw ingredients for this becoming an obsession. That does not automatically mean that the man is “bi” or gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with him being so, were that the case, but liking trans girls is NOT a way of so deciding.

Trans girls are not male. We’re hyperfeminine at our core. Even so, many guys who date trans girls are ashamed of us and hide us from their friends and family for fear of being branded as a gay guy. It’s all really ironic.

While trying to understand myself, I initially thought that I might be a gay guy so I went to gay male sex clubs to try to figure myself out. I observed that the sexuality between two men is so peculiar that it was completely alien to me. I could not relate at all. Then again, I’ve been in bed with another trans girl and even though we both had “outie” as opposed to “innie” plumbing, the dynamic was 100% feminine. I was simply a girl in bed with a girl.

If a guy were gay then he would have been looking at guy porn, not trans girl porn. Hairy backs and male-shaped bodies would have been his turn-ons, not the smooth skin and feminine shapes of the trans girls in porn.

 

Two Trans Girls, a Too-Fast Audi and the Nevada Highway Patrol

A friend of mine is visiting me for a few days. She lives in a part of the country not exactly known for being ultra-friendly as to trans girls. She’s at the point in her transition where to me (and, I gather, not just to me) she generally looks more like a trans girl than a genetically integrated girl. She’s pretty but in a sort-of-androgynous way. As for me, I’m quite obviously a trans girl too; few genetically integrated girls are 6′ tall, very muscular and have a jawline like Rambo.

Today, the weather in northern Nevada was miserable due to a harsh winter storm. It was half-raining, half-snowing, and it was very windy. Even so, I thought it was a fine day for a fast blast in my Audi Quattro, so as to take my friend to Reno so that she can enjoy the local sights as a tourist.

Here’s the picture of the car, taken on a sunny day.

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“The “Quattro” in “Audi Quattro” means that the car has a peculiar type of all-wheel drive (as in 4-wheel drive) that’s extra effective in bad weather. I also own a Jeep Grand Wagonneer 4×4 but I gather the Audi can out-tech the Jeep in nasty weather, so I chose to drive the Audi today.

In these bad weather conditions, I figured that 75 miles per hour is a good speed in a 65 miles-per-hour zone. The Nevada Highway Patrol didn’t think so, and pulled me over to so inform me.

Two law-breaking girls, who are obviously trans girls, in a rural part of Nevada where both nearby towns are small towns, being pulled over by a very masculine officer on a day when you-know-who is President of the United States, and the Republicans are in charge of, well, pretty much everything … how will their story end? Life in prison? Being roughed up? Body cavity searches?

Nothing of the sort. The officer exuded the utmost professionalism. He was stern yet totally appropriate in every way. Then, after he’d seen that we were extremely well-behaved (aside from being speed demons) and after my paperwork was evidently in order, the officer was even commendably friendly yet without diluting his authority. This included expressing sympathy as to having delayed our journey, having reduced the ticket to a violation level that wouldn’t appear on my record, and the fine being a dollar amount that I can afford to pay without selling a kidney.

So, yes, there are horror stories elsewhere about trans girls being harassed unfairly. Those stories should be told. But, there are also stories of good people behaving appropriately, and those stories should also be told. So, yay for the Nevada Highway Patrol in Churchill County, Fallon, Nevada. They give me hope today, and it was also good that my friend saw how positive things can be.

Even though being “out” as a trans girl is generally a scary journey: in my experience, from my perspective, things are generally very positive.

 

 

Now What? Now You Live Your Life

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The opening scenario in the movie “Executive Decision” shows a newly trained civilian pilot who has just taken off, and he’s nervous. He asks his flight instructor what he’s forgotten. The answer is: “Nothing. Just fly the plane” — as in: relax and enjoy.

The story has much in common with a trans girl transitioning to living openly as who she is. The mode changes from a wild-and-crazy ride that’s complex and sometimes overwhelming and terrifying with dark and lonely times. Good advice is: “if you’re going through hell, keep going” — as in, it’s a tunnel, not a cave. I kept going, and here I am, just one more girl, living her life. I happen to be able to write my name precisely in the snow but wow is that an overrated skill. And really, that’s about it as to practical differences between me and a genetically integrated girl.

So, now what? Well, every day, I wake up, exercise, drink water, drink coffee, eat breakfast and go earn a living. I enjoy friendships and sunsets, and I’m happy.

Life is, quite simply, good.

Facial Electrolysis

Waxing, in my experience, is a good first step for those of us with more facial and body hair than we like. It turns a forest of hair into a few sparse but strong remaining strands, for which the next (and, I hope, final) step is electrolysis, which involves paying a VERY patient lady to stick a needle into each hair follicle and then destroying it by heating up the needle. One session doesn’t destroy a follicle, but it does weaken it, so gradually the hair becomes either so thin and light that it doesn’t matter, or it vanishes completely.

Does it work? Yes. A friend of mine is a trans girl who does escorting, and her revenue stream looks a lot better when she looks better — so she’s had electrolysis done to the point where she is devoid of all facial and body hair. I haven’t seen her with her clothes off but from what I could see, electrolysis worked spectacularly well for her.

I have a much more humble budget, so I’m focusing my funding on facial electrolysis. If I’d had dark facial hair, lasering would be an option too but, being blonde, that doesn’t work for me. Electrolysis is making a noticeable difference. The only drawback is pain.

I’ve experienced some bee stings in my life — as in, real-life mother-nature honey-makers injecting venom into me. It made quite and impression on me, and I remember the sensation and intensity well. Electrolysis is remarkably similar.

At the pace that the electrolysis practitioner lady was going, I was experiencing about one bee sting every four seconds – once per follicle when I was lucky, and sometimes two, and in stubborn cases, more yet. My upper lip had about 600 hair follicles when the project began, so I figure that’s about 800 bee stings to my upper lip every session, with things gradually diminishing as more and more of the 600 hair follicles die off. Last time I had electrolysis, I looked like a cartoon character afterwards, with my upper lip hugely swollen.

Today’s session was 5.5 hours minus an hour for chit-chat and eating lunch, so … 4.5 hours under the needle. So, that’s 270 minutes, or 16,200 seconds. Figure a bee sting every 4 seconds or so, that’s just over 4,000 today. That sounds about right as to the areas covered. Owee, yes.

On my face I can deal with the pain without making self-soothing noises, but I noticed that as my boobies are growing, they are also developing some hair in and around the, um, most sensitive parts. To my casual eye, I figured maybe twelve stray hairs per side. As it turned out, I was seeing only 10% or so … there were about 120 per side. Removing those was intensely painful. So, during that part of the session, I wasn’t quiet.

Moral of the story: if you should see a girl (trans or otherwise) looking good in any respect, then yes, part of that might well be good genes, but the rest might well be effort and investment.

A Tale of Three Auto Parts Stores

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[The above picture shows me, not at an auto parts store. It’s just a recent picture].

I live in a small town east of Reno, in the middle of the northern Nevada desert. On the surface, it’s very rednecky. You would not register surprise if you walk past a random business parking lot and every vehicle therein is a pickup truck. It happens often. A local poster advertised a gun show at the local convention center, with the extra enticement of “free beer!” That pretty much sums up the spirit here.

On the plus side, crime tends to be low, people tend to be honest, and government red-tape issues as to business tend to be low, so here I am.

After I came out as a trans girl, I figured it’s futile trying to live here, so I was already half-way packed up and with some of my stuff moved to Las Vegas, when it occurred to me that, rather than assuming the worst, I should give the locals here at least the opportunity to be nice to me.

As it turns out, most people here have been super-nice and supportive of me even though I am, obviously, a trans girl living openly as such.

Shortly after I came out, I would typically be wearing androgynous clothing but girly hair and some jewelry & make-up — not too much, but enough to culturally convey “I’m a girl” even while having a masculine facial structure — in other words, a trans girl, openly so. Yet, at the time, I also looked sexy to some guys. I know this because in that same general time-frame, I was doing escorting. I was sometimes making $100, $200 and once even more than $300 per hour — and this was literally selling time, not sexual services. Finding guys who thought I looked hot was not a problem. Not that I made this sort of money often, but every now and then, the extra money and appreciation were nice. My main revenue was from my software development business, so the escorting was more for fun than money (and yes, such revenue is taxable, regardless of how much fun it is to make it). Anyway: as it turns out, being sexy as a trans girl entails some problems.

The people who have been nice to me are vastly too numerous to track, so I gave up on that, and I just kept track of the people who were mean to me. There were few.

Two or three years ago, I had a bad experience, albeit non-violent. I walked into one of the three local auto parts stores in town. Two teenage boys, aged eighteen or so, were standing near the counter.

A social recipe that I used to employ is: give people a chance, and start with a sincere smile. So, I gave both of them a friendly smile. They each looked horrified.

This might be a good time to detour into a relevant concept: homophobia. It’s basically where someone feels an attraction to someone else and he thinks that makes him gay and it deeply bothers him — so he tries to be mean to whomever he is attracted to. It’s basically the asshole-adult version behavior of the little elementary-school boy who is mean to the little girl on whom he has a crush. So, if someone homophobic is attracted to me, then he goes into an internal meltdown and if his friends are around, he feels the need to act mean towards me to hide his embarrassment. That’s how many trans girls get beat up or killed. So, looking hot to a homophobe can be dangerous.

In this case, it wasn’t dangerous, but certainly unpleasant. The two boys started to make mean comments, and one of them loudly sympathized with the guy who worked behind the parts counter, since (they said) he was stuck there and had to deal with the freak show (meaning: me) whereas they were free to go. The parts counter guy just looked awkward, but a parts counter lady spoke up, to her immense credit, and basically made it clear to the boys that their rudeness wasn’t appreciated. That meant a lot to me.

Over the years, I’ve seen this pattern (of me trying to smile disarmingly at guys and getting a mean reaction) repeated so many times that I’m not willing to risk it any more. So, nowadays, I avoid eye contact with guys. I do hear what they say — in fact, I actively listen, in case there’s a cue that I should anticipate violence and get ready to defend myself. Even without making eye contact, I hear mean comments now and then, but it’s almost always when the guy is among his friends. Solo, guys tend to leave me alone. In my opinion, this fits the homophobia premise well.

I save my smiles for girls, and that typically has a great success ratio of smiles radiated vs. received. I’ve also graduated to wearing a more feminine style of clothing.

Yesterday, I showed up at another of the local auto parts stores. I was wearing elegant 4″ high black ankle boots, tight-fitting black slacks, a black t-shirt, and a purple top that would have been a sweatshirt top except that it had a more-elegant cut. My boobs are no longer indiscernible and I don’t need to wear a bra so I don’t. My hair had been done the day before, so I had a blonde mane of pretty hair surrounding my face. One rednecky customer pointedly looked me up and down. He didn’t say anything. I ignored him. The rest of the crew behind the counter were all young guys, mostly a new group whom I haven’t yet gradually won over by being nice and savvy. Inwardly, I groaned.

I’m fixing the fuel injection system on a 1998 Audi A8 car that I own. It’s a rare car, so the parts had had to be specially ordered. This had been done, and according to the computer, the parts were somewhere in the building, but nobody could find them. Minutes went by as the guys rummaged and became ever more embarrassed. I stood there, being patient. How much this was appreciated didn’t register on me until I glanced up at one of the counter guys walking past. I hadn’t planned to make eye contact but I did. He looked back at me and gave me a sincere, nice smile. As it turned out, he wasn’t the only guy with that attitude. Soon, all three guys were being exceptionally nice. Plus, they finally found my parts.  I made a little joke about how I’m supposed to be the blonde there, making the silly mistakes — not them. They smiled at that, too. As I left, I chose to look back benevolently, though I felt like a girl in a perfume ad, looking over her shoulder at someone.  The counter guy who’d smiled at me was just standing there, doing nothing but looking at me with a sort of dreamy smile as I was sashaying out the door. We made eye contact again, I smiled at him, and then I was gone. Good encounter.

Next, I needed parts for which the only option was the third auto parts store in town. In I walked. There were two counter workers. The lady noticed my unusual accent and struck up a friendly conversation. The guy was mostly quiet until the lady had left and then he became a little more chatty, though with the utmost professionalism. He looks like a younger version of Will Smith, the actor. He looked up my phone number for frequent-shopper benefits and found my previous name. I’d changed it as part of coming out as a trans girl. I explained how that used to be my name, but if he would please edit it into non-existence I’d appreciate it. This in turn led to a conversation about me being a trans girl in a rednecky town, which I gather has similar challenges as being a black guy in the same rednecky town. He said some benevolent, wise and encouraging things, and handed me my parts. This made it an even better visit than the one to the previous store.

All in all, as a trans girl, it’s a difficult journey at first, but it soon becomes much better. By now it’s downright nice, though I’m always socially on guard when I’m out and about. This has become second nature to me, and I’m okay with it.

Smell the Roses

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All other things being equal, the life of any self-sustaining American is hard, and girls have it harder, and trans girls have it harder yet.

Years ago, I found it easy to get into a death-march mentality and to just plod along, working hard to make things better without remembering the point of it all. I had to remember that it’s all about the journey, whereas the arrival is just an instant in time.

Nowadays, while doing the due diligence I should, I also try to remember that joy is one’s fuel, and I make sure I don’t run out. Better yet, I try to keep my emotional fuel tank nice and full, in case some bad days come along.  I’m also vastly more productive when I’m happy, so I try to attend to happiness-related issues short-term, medium-term and long-term, ideally every day. I actively seek out cool things, large and small, to stuff into every day, to make it a happier-yet day.

A silly example is the stick-on jewelry in the picture below. It cost maybe $1 but it was fun, plus it inspired an positive chat with someone nice whom I happened to meet.

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Another example happened three weeks ago. I needed to make a trip anyway.  So, I tried to make it a happier trip. I juggled some hotel credits and was able to afford staying at a nice place with a nice pool.  Although the weather wasn’t great, it being winter and all, I nevertheless went down to the pool, and had a good time.

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Yet another example occurred a few days ago. I was supposed to pick up some repaired computer equipment from a vendor who was away from his shop for half an hour.  So, I thought hard as to what might be a fun way to spend half an hour, and I found a sporting good store so massive that it contains an entire Ferris wheel inside. Soon, I was enjoying an experience for whom the target market might be someone who is one-tenth my age, but I nevertheless ended up enjoying it. Price: no charge.

If you’re feeling embattled nowadays, the phrase nil carborundum illegitimi might be useful. Wikipedia sums it up well: It’s a mock-Latin aphorism meaning “Don’t let the bastards grind you down”. Amen to that.

 

2016 Transgender Day of Remembrance in Fallon, NV

Today, I am observing a transgender day of remembrance event, in Fallon, NV. I chose to do so right after the day began, at midnight. One transgender individual was in attendance — me. I know of nobody else who is a transgender individual hereabouts, a small community about an hour east of Reno.

The trans girl who was here with me in 2015 had arrived shortly before that event. She was my roommate at the time. She ended up staying with me for several months. During that time, her morale and social skills skyrocketed. So did her professional skills. Confidently and with my encouragement, she left to go pursue a romance with an old flame, a lovely girl who had recently become socially available and was having a hard time. As interim endings go, it was a very happy ending.

I choose to host my own event in this small community east of Reno rather than attend the main Reno event, since last when I attended that, the structure of the event tended to focus on intense shock value, detailing the names and causes of death of trans people (mostly, girls like me) who were killed in the last 12 months. The causes of death might well  make a seasoned coroner wince. Trans girls who are killed are often bludgeoned, set on fire, disfigured etc.  The starkness of the specifics bring the “hate” in the phrase “hate crime” into sharp focus.

Nevertheless, much of the violence occurs far away, such as in Brazil (ask me why there especially, if you like). That’s a problem but it’s one that I can influence only very marginally from where I sit.  Events near me, I’m much more able to influence.  In and around Reno, Nevada, a trans girl is much more likely to die from a suicide than from violence. So, as to myself and trans girls (and for that matter, all girls and guys whom I wish well and support) I start with that.

The death I’m most enthused to delay is my own, so with that in mind … I’m surrounded by intense relationships with a few wonderful girls who like me personally, and the general opinion seems to be that a trans girl is not a step down in the process of evolution, but she might be a step up.

When I disagree, I hear some compelling arguments that give me cause for reflection. One of these girls happens to be 2,000 miles away tonight, the other is working but offered to come and comfort me after work, and the third one lives in another city 400 miles away, otherwise they’d probably each be here right now. Their physical absence isn’t a problem . Even long-distance, I feel their caring support, and I value it deeply.

A step further away from the inner circle of intense and close relationships are my many wonderfully supportive friends and family. I feel cherished as such too, and it’s a wonderful feeling.

It’s so nice that I can feel so well-appreciated whereas many other trans girls are choosing to end their lives in loneliness and sadness, by their own hands. By “many” I mean that trans girls have an astronomically high suicide rate compared to that of the average population. Last I heard, the numbers are so stark that you could reduce the rate by 99% and it would still be the highest suicide rate of any demographic in the US.

Why? This next section tries to explain it.

* * *

Whoever decides the gender of a baby for purposes of the legal paperwork, does so based on the most visible organs, not the baby’s internal brain structure. Unsurprisingly, a baby with female brain structure and male parts “down there” begins life with a male legal status, a male name and the expectation that culturally the path forward will involve male behavior.  From the color of the baby’s clothing to toys and games, the gender role is typically reinforced.

If a transsexual baby grows up to be an infant, child, teenager and adult, then the person least sure of the assigned gender is the person himself or herself. If the person is a trans girl, she’s generally told she’s a boy and to behave accordingly, even though she feels fundamentally unlike the boys she observes around her. She realizes more and more that she has female mental traits. To the extent she shows these openly, the reactions of those around her depend on the culture.

In typical conservative American culture, the odds are that she’ll be pressured, ridiculed, threatened, beat up … all of which would be done with a presumption of the moral high ground belonging to the aggressor, with the premise being that any psychological discomfort that the aggressor experiences by observing the trans girl behaving like a girl … that supposedly supersedes the psychological discomfort of the trans girl being prohibited from living openly as the girl she is.

The typical trans girl learns quickly — not just tactically self-protective behavior but also a deep sense of shame, which explains why the suicide rate is so much, much higher in the case of trans girls. It’s been said that suicide is the most sincere form of self-criticism, and trans girls tend to be the poster girls for that.

* * *

With my writing and mentoring, I reach many trans girls. Sometimes one might pop up and say she likes something I wrote. Sometimes it’s due to an in-person friendship. Two trans girls have each told me that, were it not for my influence, they might not be around any more. That alone makes 2016 a good year for me, already, as to this subject.

Two other trans girls have made it clear that, although my influence wasn’t a life-vs.-death issue, I made a huge difference to their morale. I’m glad.

Personally, I’m thriving too. I feel healthier and better than I have … actually, ever.  I’ve come to like my own aesthetics more than I ever have.  My finances are still in the red but I’m making progress and my businesses are slowly improving. My voice sounds more to my liking, I like how I walk, my physique has become hourglassy and my hair looks good even by my own picky standards.

The “trans girl in a restroom” issue was resolved in a way that I like as to how Target and Starbucks spoke out. Some very bad things happened too — the shooting in Orlando, for example.  Also, an event in early November.

It’s been a year of intense thinking and article-writing for me, and also a year when I became a formally paid part-time professional writer.

As to the next 12 months, I plan to take good care of myself and those for whom I care. I plan to make more money than I spend, and keep paying off my financial debts — which reminds me, during the last 12 months I could cross some more financial debts off the list due to having paid them off.  Good!

* * *

Even though my life is good, today isn’t the annual “well, at least Tanya is thriving” day. It’s a somber day and my mood actually matches that.

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The theme picture for this year shows the items I consider central to my own emphasis on the next 12 months, as to my survival and protecting those I care about (which is by no means limited to trans girls).

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As to the symbolism:

  • The yellow flower symbolizes friendship. A trans girl, including me, benefits by surrounding herself with nice and supportive people. By implication, if someone is negative, then … “distance” is a good relationship-management tool. If someone is unwelcome, I distance myself, problem solved. Back to the positive side: the flower symbolizes benevolence even if it’s not friendship. There are also people in today’s culture who can be useful allies even if they are not friends — and one ally can make all the difference.  So, my motto is to keep my allies close and my friends closer.
  • The red heart symbolizes a more-than-friendship dynamic. I can’t imagine anything more intense and positive than loving someone and being loved in return. When I feel unlovable, it’s a wonderful experience to lose a debate to someone who feels the exact opposite about the subject.
  • The pen symbolizes the importance of ideas, of reason, of logic. Being enlightened is good; spreading the light is better. On the side of peaceful and benevolent co-existence we have (to paraphrase my favorite philosopher) right, reason and reality … powerful weapons. I use them. Especially for the next four years, I plan to work extra hard to spread the light. The forces of ideological darkness such as symbolized by the evildoers in the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter books and movies … their real-life equivalent is a dangerous adversary. If I do nothing, evil might prevail. If I speak and write well, good might prevail. The first amendment to the US Constitution is useful; I use it.
  • The bullet symbolizes the importance of self-defense. Recent events have made it abundantly clear that a large segment of the population is moved by irrationalism, hatred and violence. My good ideas, reason, logic, enlightenment and eloquence will be of no use to me posthumously. Bad people exist who will have no qualms as to initiating violence intended to snuff out someone else’s light — and some of them are actively focused on trans girls. Especially for the next four years, I expect to be extra vigilant. The forces of ideological darkness have their goons, such as symbolized by the Orcs and Dementors in the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter books and movies … their real-life equivalent is also a dangerous adversary. If an innocent person is defenseless, evil might well prevail. By contrast, whoever personifies a wolverine, or a fortress that none dare attack — that person might will prevail. The second amendment to the US Constitution is useful; I use it.

The ultimate intent of the transgender day of remembrance events is to make them unnecessary due to the death rate of trans people becoming insignificant. I plan to keep doing my part, working towards that goal.