#Yesallwomen* and Some Men, Too

I’m a transgender man who was born and raised female.

When I was living as a woman, I was raped and beaten more than once by a man who professed to love me. I was catcalled, groped and  propositioned by strangers, and told I deserved it for being fat, for being a “dyke” when I was dressed masculinely, and for being a slut when dressed femininely. I learned all the self-defense tricks: keys on a stretchy coil bracelet and carried in a splay-pointed fist, check the back seat of the car before getting in, avoid dark and isolated places, never walk alone. If threatened, shout “fire” instead of “rape” or “help”. Strike for the eyes, the throat, the instep, the groin. Make yourself urinate or defecate or vomit on your attacker if you can. Above all, run away.

Women are afraid of men, and based on both statistics and my own experiences, they have every right to be.

I was and still am fiercely feminist. The decision to transition was not an easy one, in part due to my fear that by acknowledging my true, male self, I was betraying my sisters and going over to the dark side. As a man now, amongst other men, I hear misogyny they don’t even realize is in their jokes, in their assumptions, in the way they take up more than their fair share of space in movie theaters and waiting rooms and on public transit. I call them out when I can. I’ve told more than one man his jokes were misogynist and rude, and the way he treats women makes me ashamed to know him.

But sometimes it’s not just men.

I was at a party recently with several progressive, open-minded men and women. A guy I don’t know well, but who is good friends with some of my friends, and whose trademark seems to be obnoxious humor, made several jokes that made my skin crawl. He jokingly said to one friend, “woman, get me a sandwich”. She laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. He, again in a joking tone, told the eleven-year-old daughter of another friend she couldn’t have a cupcake because it might make her fat. When I said that was stupid and she could eat whatever her mom said it was okay for her to eat, he said, “Hey, I’m fat shaming here!” then riffed on it some more, and everyone — men and women and the eleven-year-old — laughed.

Except me.

Everyone laughed at all this guy’s jokes.  Men who I thought knew better. Women I have always thought of as feminists. People who are parents of young daughters. I was the only one who seemed uncomfortable. Maybe it was because they know him better, and believed his jokes were “ironic”. But it didn’t feel funny to me. Even ironically. I felt flinchy and angry while it was going on, and powerless to stop it because everyone else was complicit. Two days later I’m still upset. And I still don’t know what to do.

This is why we need #yesallwomen. I can see the root of the problem here, buried so deeply that even progressive, feminist women don’t see it. I want to bring it into the light and let it die of shame, but that will only happen if everyone can see it for what it really is.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over my fear of men, even though I am one myself now. I still check the back seat of my car, avoid isolated places, and think about exactly how I’ll defend myself if I’m out for a walk at night and I spot a man or a group of men. That’s what #yesallwomen is about. Because even as a man, I still live with a fear that few cisgender men can begin to understand, but every woman I’ve ever known understands in her bones.

*In response to tragic assault in Santa Barbara, #yesallwomen has become a social media movement decrying misogyny. If you need a primer on it, here’s a good one: The Deviation: A Look at the Santa Barbara Shooting

~ by Nezu on 28 May 2014.