Real-life TRA Silently Detransitions after Harming Lesbians

Four years ago I was ousted from a city commission, all because I said “sex” is important. Now I hear the man who took my place, the man who then called himself a lesbian and led the charge against me, has since detransitioned. I welcome every person’s decision to detransition or desist, and at the same time abusers must be held accountable for their actions. Sure, finding yourself in life is a process, but it never requires traumatizing women, or pretending to be one.

In 2018 I was living in Baltimore, Maryland. To defend lesbian rights, I joined the city’s LGBTQ Commission and then was elected to a leadership position on the Law and Policy Committee. It’s a fact that lesbians, despite beginning the alphabet acronym, are erased left and right. There are very few lesbians in positions of power or influence these days. So, as an out lesbian, I was glad for the opportunity to represent women like me. It wasn’t long before my feminist politics came out, too; my committee was asked to review a list of proposals from the police department which I criticized for replacing “sex” with “gender identity.” I argued that policies which use this ideology are easily manipulated by male perpetrators, like male rapists in women's prisons. But I quickly learned obvious facts are blasphemous.

All of a sudden A Man arrived on the scene. I still have no idea who invited him, but he accused me of committing “violence” against the “transgender community” and called for a vote to kick me out. This man personally identified as transgender and apparently empathized with the male perpetrators of Baltimore City. At the time, he called himself a “transbutch” and abruptly claimed my position. Did he truly intend to dominate the only lesbian on the committee? Or was his entire political scheme merely a ruse for narcissistic validation? In any case, he was celebrated in the local press for being a pride-month hero, while I became “the most hated lesbian in Baltimore.”

Fortunately life has changed for me since then, and coincidentally, it changed for him as well. He has reinvented himself from lesbian fetishist to messiah of the digital age. According to his jargon-littered blog, he “has fully transitioned his gender expression twice during his career leveraging modern biotechnology and neuro linguistic programming.” His life purpose has shifted/grifted from trans rights/rites to “integrating sector agnostic direct experience” as a “rational futurist” – whatever that means.

Even with a five-o-clock shadow, this man can blow hot air out his ass and no one calls his bluff. Why? Because, like so many other misogynists of our time, he is a man. He is the naked emperor, surrounded by a porn-sick culture that pretends not to see systemic male abuse of women and girls. Even though he changed his name and cut off that ridiculous ponytail, he continues to be applauded for regurgitating whatever buzzwords he just happens to string together, especially when he makes no sense at all.

Nevermind the real-world effect he has on women and girls. After all, women aren't people to him anyway. To him, woman is a costume, a disguise he can wear when he wants to see something different in the mirror and then discard like a worn-out mask. It sure takes a lot of balls to call yourself a lesbian, run an actual lesbian out of her elected position in city government, and then years later boast about your enlightenment from living for a few years in girl mode. I wonder how many women were harmed in the making of his ego.

I wonder how many women and girls are duped into a lifetime of medical dependency because they don’t want to be female in a male supremacist world. I wonder what it takes for these women to come home to themselves, to desist or detransition, and face the world that pushed them to change in the first place. I bet it would be easier for women to love our bodies if men weren’t turning our very existence into a mocking game of charades.

If I could go back to the day when I met the man who usurped me, I would laugh in his face. I would laugh at him for being absolutely naked, and I’d laugh at everyone else in the room for playing along in the lie. But now, perhaps I should thank him for proving me right. On his journey to self-fulfillment, he has confirmed the entire feminist argument against sex self-identification.

Moneyed organizations all over the world shower men like him with accolades. They win political elections and multi-media contracts, wearing a facsimile of women's skin the whole time. Even the man who led my inquisition received a large grant for his start-up company in 2018, but for whatever reason that project has yet to materialize. It begs the question: how many women’s organizations will be denied funding in favor of a man’s ephemeral pipedream?

Men like this will never be anything more or less than men. In their efforts of shallow mimicry, they bind the male fantasy of femininity to womanhood, thereby reinforcing the sex-role hierarchy and the subjugation of women as a class within it. But women are the ones standing trial, because we state the obvious? This is a war on women. The emperor is everywhere, as naked as can be, and he’s betting that we won’t speak what we see.

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