Still alive. One fucked up year.

Not going to go diving into details but it’s been a roller coaster this year. Enough said there.

I figured I’d go ahead and update my blog seeing as I’ve let it severely slip. I wanted to touch base on a few things that happened to me transition wise though this year.

So during my messy life I ended up getting a few jobs over the summer from a staffing agency. One of which where I worked at Coleman in a distribution center. The job its self was pretty alright. Met an awesome friend and I enjoyed working there for the most part up until I came to realize everyone on my shift knew I was trans and I was working with 90% of backwoods people who were close minded christian. You can expect, of course, my soon comfy job become more of an example why I enjoyed working at home and hated this country. Two weeks in I get pulled back to the office by my supervisor and told that because of complaints I wasn’t allowed to use the men’s restroom anymore because my genitalia I was born with don’t match the restroom I was using. I was not happy. In fact I left early that night I was so angry. I refused to be segregated and they were refusing me my right to use a bathroom that I not only identify with but pass to use.
So the next day I called a few lawyers and my staffing agency about the issue and thankfully before work started that night, HR cleared up everything and I was cleared to use the men’s restroom again. I just personally want to thank OSHA for sending out the trans guidelines literally days before this went down or else I could of been looking at a lawsuit and no job.

But of course, there was drama. Always drama of self entitled old men who feel they can’t be held responsible for their thoughts or actions because a “vagina” was walking into their “private” space. Gods forbid. I’ll never understand this. It’s common sense. You feel you are unstable enough to not rape someone in a bathroom, you should seek mental help and remove yourself from that situation. Not remove the “threat” or “trap”. It’s that fucking simple.
So a week later I decided to switch job assignments because I was actually afraid of being jumped in the parking lot to my car.

A few job assignments later I said fuck the industry and leveled my life out again.

So yeah, work harassment is a thing people. Whispers get around. It’s absolutely vile and people wonder why a majority of transpersons are in the poverty level. Would you want to work in a place where you had to look over your shoulder all the time to make sure you weren’t going to be assaulted or raped? Would you want to stick out like a sore thumb after reporting your fears? Or worse yet, find your bosses don’t think any better of you either? We all have to make a wage and a living here. Why am I or others held to the same standard as everyone else but are beaten down when we try? The hypocrisy is real.

And to those who think having a transperson in your bathroom is a threat, please bring up the verified articles and police reports showing an actual transperson assaulting or raping someone in a bathroom. Good luck finding it. There hasn’t been a reported, verified case of it in the US. But on the other hand? Cis persons have done it to trans. Plenty of that out there though.
All we want to do is use the bathroom for it’s intended use. We all pee and poop. Every one of us and the general populace uses a toilet.
If your solution to this is to segregate us instead for your comfort, please seek the nearest history book and look up racial segregation. Because if it’s not because of our race, it’s because of our gender, sexual identity, religion, the list goes on. Quit trying to separate people into neat little boxes. We don’t need it. You my friend though could use to ask yourself some very deep questions as to why you’d need to feel comfortable separating yourself from other humans to get through your day and sleep at night.

There’s my rant for the day. I just had to get that off my chest. As a transperson my life is going to be filled with bullshit. Quit adding more onto my plate. That’s all I ask.

On a better note, got back with my Dr about my T and levels are getting better. No more shark weeks and I’m now getting .5c of T a week. I’m feeling much better now and my appearance has shifted back to what it was. So at least there’s that.


3 thoughts on “Still alive. One fucked up year.

  1. Dude, I am so sorry you went through that, and so glad that HR fixed it. Reading your post made me feel very fortunate to have understanding employers (and also to have automatic access to all toilets on site because of being a cleaner!).

    I envy you your lack of manstruation. I’m hoping that T isn’t too far into my future. Also, welcome back to the blogosphere!

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