About the text
This text was written for a poetry slam. Originally it was written in German, but given that parts of it also refer to events within English speaking communities, I translated it too.
So ... here it is for your pleasure. Enjoy the read. Try to keep the emphasis in mind while doing so.
It is sooo difficult.
Don't tell me, how difficult it is to remember my name. Don't tell me how difficult that is for you. Don't tell me how difficult it is to use correct pronouns. Don't tell me ... anything about that. It is difficult? What is difficult?
Don't tell me how difficult it is for you.
Don't tell me how difficult is to not use the name that every time I hear, hurts my inside. That for every person who hears it stores it with the wrong pronouns. That for every person who hears it plays the movie of “man in a dress” in their mind.
So do not tell me how difficult it is to remember a name and correct pronouns.
It's difficult to discuss where the difference between a pussy-hat – which even the woman who created it understood that it is cissexist and trans-excluding because it equates body parts with gender – having to discuss why the symbol of the pussy-hat chokes you. And it's difficult to have to discuss why criticizing the pussy-hat has nothing to do with pictures of Vulvas.
Because fucking damned yes! I'm absolutely for a relaxed approach of Vulvas. Yes! Viva la Vulva! I'd like to have one of my own after all! (And here is the outing so that you finally can get rid of the question “what's in her panties” which probably kept you occupied all this time and distracted from the text. Focus, folks!)
But it has to be possible to speak about the liberation of Vulvas without Every! Fucking! Time! telling trans women that they aren't women. Without Every! Fucking! Time! perpetuating biologisms. Without Every! Fucking! Time! equating body parts with gender identity. It can't be that hard to break the cissexism, darn fuck!
So do not tell me how difficult it is to remember a name and correct pronouns.
It's difficult to get told by relatives that it doesn't matter which political party they get involved in to annoy their mayor, as long as it's not his party. Difficult to hear, then, that they decided on a party that says that you have “gender ideology” and “gender madness”, thus calling you a Persona Non Grata who wants to destroy society. And it's difficult to be told that the party isn't that bad ...
So do not tell me how difficult it is to remember a name and correct pronouns.
It's difficult to read within the software project whose community was supportive of your transition during the last fifteen years, to read within this community that it's just an opinion when a person denies to use the pronouns of a person and wants to go by chromosomes instead. It's difficult to read essays on the origin of the singular they. Essays on why chromosomes aren't unambiguous. And not a single person pointing out that you! Cannot! See! Chromosomes! Besides that, chromosomes are not identical with gender! And chromosomes are not binary! Besides that, it's difficult to read how courteously and nicely others deal with that person who denies you your existence – while you have been told not to be so short-tempered with defending yourself.
So do not tell me how difficult all of this is for you.
It's difficult to have to say at the airport that a rerouting of your flight through the United Arab Emirates is far from okay. Through a land where “cross-dressing” is forbidden. A country in which I'm definitely read that way. And it also happens here all the time. It's also difficult to see the puzzled face behind the desk then.
And it's difficult to think for half a year about travelling to a conference in Brazil. The country which has the highest murder rate of trans people. To have to think about how you can present yourself there. To have to think about how you can move around there. To have to think about how likely it is for you to return from there ...
So do not tell me anything about it.
I do not want to know how difficult it is for you while me, we, have to fight to live. While me, we, have to fight to be loved. While me, we, have to fight to be seen as date-able. While me, we, have to fight not to get abused. While me, we, have to fight to not be the targets of physical or psychological violence.
So do not tell me anything about that, because it makes me puke. It doesn't let me sleep. It wakes me up at four in the morning and makes me write texts like this one. And I'm darn! Fucking! tired of not being able to sleep because of your ignorance.