I doubt this is an original thought, but it only occurred to me overnight, and I just wanted to make a note of it while it was still fresh in my mind this morning.
I was thinking: What if? – What then?
What if? – What if the transphobes and trolls should be proved correct, and that trans people really are wrong; that there is no justification for our existence.
What if? – What if the transphobes and trolls are, at last, one day able to produce empirical evidence and undeniable proof that there is no such thing as transsexuality; if their logic was, in fact, irrefutable.
What if? – What if I’m really not just some ordinary, unremarkable, middle-aged woman who’s leading – or attempting to lead – an equally ordinary and unremarkable life, as I come to terms with an identity issue of immense proportions (which has, in fact, turned my ordinary and unremarkable life completely upside down).
What if? – What if I really am a deluded dupe with a combination of fetishes; a tool of the patriarchy, and a clear and present danger to all natal women – as the transphobes and trolls would have me believe?
You see, I’m not a medical expert, but my understanding is that the vaginoplasty I underwent last year is irreversible. I suppose my breast implants could be removed, if I could raise the money to pay the surgeon’s fees. But what of the HRT? I’m told that some of the changes are irreversible, and that, anyway, I’m likely to need the supplemental oestrogen until the day I die.
What would the transphobes like a trans woman like me to do?
Would I be expected to go into exile somewhere?
Or perhaps I would be rehabilitated in some way?
Would the transphobes and trolls offer any solutions for my (presumably enforced) detransitioning?
And if all those options failed – would I be expected to take my own life?
Or would the transphobes and trolls make those arrangements on my behalf?
What if? – What then?
©2008 Helen G