I don’t know how to tell you about the things that haunt me, the things my heart finds too heavy to carry around from day to day. I’m afraid that if I pick these things up to share them with you that they’ll be too heavy for you too, and we’ll both suffocate under the weight. So instead I leave them dotted around the floor like my own personal minefield, an obstacle course that I have to traverse day in and day out, hoping to not trigger one. I don’t know how to go through the minefield with you behind me because I don’t want to lose you to it.
I don’t know how to do this with you. I’ve never had someone who cares so deeply about me, someone who puts so much effort into wanting to understand me. I don’t know how to let you support me, how to give myself over to you. I don’t know how to do this not on my own.
But I don’t know how to do this without you. When you’re not actively in my life I feel lost, like I’m searching for something, but I don’t know what that something is. My heart cries in your absence, like a puppy whining for the warmth of its mother just after being separated. I don’t want to do this without you next to me. I don’t want to do this without your hand in mine, but I’m still figuring out how to reach out for you.
I imagine in the dead of night when I roll around the empty space in my bed it’s my heart trying to find yours; it’s my heart trying to find our true connection. I want to have you by my side for the rest of my life, but I’m still learning how to lean on other people when it matters the most. I know I push you away, even though I don’t want to. I would rather walk with you hand in hand, but with no flak jackets to protect us from the land mines, I regretfully leave you behind at the edge of the minefield, leaving you to watch me traverse it on my own, and hopefully survive, instead of letting you figure it out with me.
I want to let you in to everything, but I’m still trying to find the key to the gates.
For more original writing from David A P Moerman follow @collegeemt3
Transness has long been treated as a medical conditions to be solved through either conversion therapy or physical transition (HRT, surgery). While the effects of physical transition may bring joy to many trans people, the medicalization, transphobia, and expense that comes with dealing with the U.S. healthcare system is rampant.
So many trans people, especially QTPOC, have difficulties when dealing with healthcare workers (data from NCTE). Of trans people in the U.S.:
- 25% have experienced trans-related insurance problems in the past year.
- 23% have avoided seeking medical attention, even if needed, due to fear of transphobic mistreatment (29% of QTPOC).
- Of those who sought HRT insurance coverage, 25% were denied.
- Of those who sought affirmation surgery coverage, 55% were denied.
The medicalization of trans people is often justified (both outside and within the community) as a way to ensure that trans-related healthcare and procedures are covered by insurance. But why should corporatized for-profit healthcare dictate the way we treat and describe trans people? Why should people need major financial help to afford feeling comfortable in their bodies?
While 11% of Americans are uninsured, that number goes up to 14% for the trans community, and 16% for QTPOC. It’s almost like an industry based on racial capitalist assumptions of profit over people doesn’t care about leaving marginalized communities behind.
Transness is not a disease, a disorder, or something to be “cured.” Trans people are not science experiments, and are not obligated to share their entire medical history with you because you’re curious. We are people; we deserve caring health care.
Transphobia in the US (and global) healthcare system is systemic; it’s built-in. Individual healthcare providers cannot undo institutional transphobia, but they can affirm their trans patients and make their workplace culture more inclusive.
- Ask for all of your patients’ chosen name (regardless of legal name) and pronouns (regardless of assigned gender & gender identity) – then use them
- Address all your patients in gender neutral terms before you know their pronouns
- Understand the social construction of sex and gender. Avoid essentializing language
- Trust that your trans patients understand their transness, their transition wants, and their trans-related needs
- Understand that you do not get to define what a “real trans person” wants or does, or who is “trans enough.” There is no single “right way” to be trans, and you don’t get to decide that your trans patient is doing it “wrong.”
**DISCLAIMER: Just because you implement these practices doesn’t mean you or your workplace are trans-affirming. Just because you and your workplace are trans-affirming doesn’t mean you are done doing the work.**
[ID 1: Blue background with the TEP and TWOA logos in the upper corners. Blue text reads “Transphobia in Healthcare in the U.S.” Blue and white text describes the statistics of transphobia in the healthcare system. A white outline of a cartoon hospital and ambulance are in the bottom right corner, above a pink rectangle with white text reading “source: NCTE.”]
[ID 2: Blue background with the TEP and TWOA logos in the upper corners. Blue text at the top reads “Transphobia in Healthcare in the U.S.” White and blue text below outlines trans-affirming practices for healthcare providers.]
A story just dropped today talking about how the managers at Tyson made bets how many people in the plant would catch Covid during the outbreak
I’m not salty anymore, I just want people to be aware, and I want people to no longer be hurt.
Okay I’m a little salty
The War Chest Review, Australia, February 1919
New hot trend from 1919: Loudly ogling anti-maskers and their bare faces like “Wow where did you find such an ugly face mask???”