Invite Us to Things. - Day 30

 

This may seem like statement of affirmation in the image above, but don't forget that many people you seem to always have to text first are very introverted, and if you didn't text first, they might see their wanting to hear from you as them being "needy" or an imposition. You texting them every once in a while reminds them that they are important to you, and that you thought about them today.

 

Introverts are often bad about not texting back. We see your text, smile because you texted us, and then respond to your text in our heads and not with our phone. Not all of us are like that. Some of us are so happy to see you messaged us that we will drop everything we are doing just to respond to you--all over the floor.

 

We also often find that many people only text us when they want something. Money. A ride. A favor. We don't mind those things usually, but if that's the only time you text us, it makes us feel like that's all we are to you. It's even worse when the person texting starts off with small talk (when we haven't heard from them in weeks or months) in an attempt to make it seem like they aren't only texting us for that purpose. We know it's coming. We love you, but we're not dumb.

 

(Texting for advice is something we don’t mind though. We love when you value our opinion.)

 

Include us in things. Invite us to things. Please. We may not always come, but it feels so good to know we were important enough to ask. We've often convinced ourselves that we are the "oddball" and that not being invited to the party or the get-together is to be expected because we are awkward. This rings especially true when we already deal with depression, as many introverts do. 

 

Please, invite us. We're trying.

 

Keep texting first. Some of us live to hear our phone go "Ding!"

Different Colors - Day 27

 

"Someone being given rights they didn't have before does not mean less rights for you."

One of my friends from high school is trans. Born male, and now lives as a female. Her pronouns are she/her. She is pansexual, but identifies closer to bisexual on most days. I was having a conversation with her the other day online, and I asked her what was the hardest part of living as a trans woman, for her. She talked about a few of the challenges, but in the end, some things she said stuck out to me...and they were messages she wanted to convey to men and women of cisgender who, like she has experienced all too often, are critical of who she is and how she lives. I'm stealing a few of her quotes here, so bear with me:

~~~

"For men who say they are worried I will come onto them at a bar without revealing my being trans, then when we get back to their place, there I am in all my glory, let me make this clear: I paid well for my breast implants, but chose to stop there and not go any lower. I am aware I look very feminine, and I'm proud of that fact. But I have worked so hard for acceptance; way too hard to risk being hurt. Trans women are frequent victims of violence by men who didn't know what they were getting into, and to make sure I never endure that, I am honest about who I am from the get-go. Also, if you are worried about getting me home and finding out things you don't want to find out, you obviously are only interested in one thing, and I'm not looking for that kind of relationship. Thanks in advance for your understanding."

"No, my life does not revolve around sex. Does yours? If so, wow, you must be very fascinating."

"Just because I am trans does not mean I am gay. I'm bi, but not all of us are. We identify in many different ways, and if you are uncertain, ask...respectfully."

"I'm not sure if the person I marry will be male or female gendered. I do know they will be human, and that's what matters."

"My family knows about me. Those who approve are still in my life, those who don't, aren't. I don't regret either."

"I use the restroom marked women. I pee sitting down unless the toilet is filthy. Why that fascinates so many of you, I have no idea." 

"I can rock a suit, as most women can. I prefer dresses, though, because pants are annoying."

"Accidentally calling me by the wrong pronouns but being willing to learn is totally fine. As long as I see you are making an effort. Calling me by the wrong pronouns (and by my dead name) because you are refusing to accept who I am is hurtful, and mentally destructive. Please, show some kindness."

"I am a Christian. God made me how I am, therefore I am perfect in His sight. I am also so proud He finally gave me the courage to be the person he made me to be."

"Not every trans person is going to agree with everything I say and feel about me personally. We are all different, and that's what makes the world we live in both dangerous, and beautiful."

The Red Pill - Day 26

 

 

Gah, my undergraduate is finally over. I'm reflecting back now on the journey.

 

Psychology was like waking up and seeing the world around me. With Psychology, you learn why you think how you do, and why others think how they do. It takes the blissful mystery out of many things, to a large degree, such that even people who say "You don't know me; don't think you do!" are known--by you. You may not know everything in their mind, but you know how their mind works--and that's a scary thing.

But--Sociology. God, sociology is like taking the "red pill". My teacher Barbara Greene in high school said "This is going to make you love and hate people, concurrently." Then my college professor Naomi Wolfe took me to a new level with this; such that I began reading things I never would have bothered with before.

Dangerous things.

Things that explain why people react to situations and people in the way they do. Books with history-rich documentary of people responding to this movement or that person in the same way people today respond to this movement or that person. People today, of course want to say "Well that was a different time, and that person was different than me. I'm following this person/movement/idea because of this, not because of that.

Psst--that's what they said too.

I remember frequently wishing that I could magically be transported back to my childhood, but with the same knowledge I have right now. How differently I would do things. However, having the knowledge I have now would be a mental torture chamber. Knowing when and how people would die, for example, and my being powerless to stop it. That's what sociology is like. Knowing why and how people react to things that have happened before, even though they feel their motives today are "oh so different" from the motives of those people twenty, fifty, or even two-hundred years ago.

A lot of people have unfollowed me on Facebook over the past couple of years, due to a concept of psychology related to confirmation bias. It's okay, we all do it. I know I did. Because of that, though, people who used to see my blog no longer do, and that's fine. I see their posts where they are blissfully going about their lives, when actually, I know what they are trying to convey both to the world and to themselves. That knowledge is a frightening thing.

I see you.

 

But you unfollowed me, so you can't see me.

(Ha-ha.)

 

I remember reading an X-Men comic back when I was a kid, and one of the mutants had the power of future-sight as well as mind-reading. Professor X told him that his gift was both a magnificent blessing and a torturous curse. Always knowing the minds of people, but being powerless to change them. Always knowing how things would end, but unable to change them. 

 

Professor X said "The worth of the gift you have been given hinges on how you use it, and whether you always use it for good."

 

"But it hurts." he said. "I want the pain to stop. Please, make it stop!"

"I can't make it stop, but you can use it to teach others before they grow into who we have become. Join us." Professor X said.

Gah, join us.

Barbara Greene and Naomi Wolfe.

What am I getting myself into?