- Got banned from /r/gendercritical
- Purchased toilet paper, paper towels, and other, various, household sundries.
- Set up a mosquito trapper in the back yard.
- Inflated my taco pool float.
- Joined my dad in making fun of my chihuahua – “Mexican Gigolo.”
- A tiny triathlon on my own.
Now here’s a story.
It never happens like they say it will. This is, obviously, a horrible way to start a story. It’s very cliche. Of course nothing “ever happens” like people imagine it will. But I’ll say this first, I really get energized when listening to disco music from a century ago. So when that’s how they caught me. Isn’t it weird?
I was listening to some Gladys Knight. Keep on keeping on, as I’m apt to say. But really I never say things like that. I’m skittish person. I’m always scared. Always scared.
When the knock came and Gladys Knight was singing and I was shaking my shoulders and just trying, trying to be happy, well, I lost it. You could say I panicked. The thing is, what are your choices? What are my choices? There are two. Run or die. How dramatic is that?
Last week though I was pretty sure I was just going to submit. Wrong place; wrong time. No use for me. Very rare anyhow. What was my father thinking? “Oh she’ll be fine, I can just raise her to be as gender nonconforming as possible.” Cue my obsession with nail polish and frilly dresses right? No. not at all. I’m what they used to call a “tomboy.” There was no other way.
Here’s the deal though, there was no other way. The money or prestige or whatever was too good for my for my dad to pass up. I don’t blame him. The idea was he’s work the five year contract and then get us the hell out off this rig. But then, as it happened, he died.
And I was left in a foreign country with no hope of escape, unless of course, I agreed that I was a man. I had always been a man. And, guess what, I would be happy to undergo a, not too invasive, procedure to affirm my gender identity. The little thing that my had hadn’t mentioned to me when we came here was that he had vouched for my masculinity.
They don’t like us. This country was founded on the ideal that we are not needed anymore. And they’re right. We aren’t. Tits. Vagina. Babies. They can manufacture those.
So by now you’ve guessed that they really didn’t catch me. I was here all along. I was waiting for my affirmation. They were friendly towards me. I was cooperating. Gung-ho. Totally a man. Ready to join the struggle to create a real technological utopia. Ready to help haul in an asteroid. My father was pretty smart. So am I. Or so their tests said. But there is this pesky problem. Pesky. Pesky.
[to be continued…maybe…if I feel like it…]