This made me cry...

[compilerbitch]

This did the rounds of my friends on Twitter and LJ yesterday. It's taken me a bit of time to respond to it, partly because I wanted to think a bit first before writing it, and partly because it brought up a surprising amount of stuff.

Firstly, I was amazed to see this. A mainstream TV ad, albeit not English language, for something entirely unrelated to trans issues or civil rights, using that as its central message. This really is something quite out of the ordinary. Previously, I'd only ever seen trans people depicted in a jokey way, or as victims (though, this ad still has a twinge of that). In the past, I've more than once refused to go to see films with a trans theme, because typically the theme is ultimately demeaning to me. I know a lot of people, for example, who loved Hedwig and the Angry Inch, but, fucking hell, do you people have NO SENSITIVITY??? How am I supposed to feel watching that? And, I have, and kind of wish I hadn't bothered. Not an image I'd like to carry with me. I'm not your convenient joke, your convenient minority who is sufficiently non-trendy and disempowered that it's OK to poke fun at me. The permission for that is mine to give, and you don't have it.

So, back to the ad, and my take on it.

She got an apology.

To my memory, that has never happened to me. Not a sincere apology, anyway. The closest thing might have been my parents, after I refused to talk to them for about three months because they insisted on using incorrect names and gender pronouns against my wishes. I got a kind-of lame halfarsed apology that was framed more along the lines of, you know, you being angry about this is really upsetting to us, it's hard for us, you know, and you shouldn't be so mean about it. Too fucking bad. I'm me. Love me or fuck off. Sorry. Oh wait, no, I'm really not sorry, and I'm not going to comfort you when my reacting badly to you being crap to me upsets you.

I cried yesterday, alone, in my office. I cried because I'd never had that apology. I also cried because I'd never had apologies for many things I deserved apologies for, particularly as a child. The teachers who beat me and psychologically abused me never apologised. The children who bullied and terrorised me never apologised. My parents certainly never apologised for not giving a damn. When I confronted them about it, years later, they couldn't remember me ever having difficulties with bullying, even though I frequently came home bloody and bruised. My father has never apologised for becoming insanely angry at me, and terrifying me, whenever I reacted emotionally. My father has never apologised for molesting the three eight-year-olds that resulted in him spending three years in prison, or the effect that that had on me or the rest of my family. My father has never apologised for stealing over 20000 UK pounds from me, or for forcing his way into control of my first business, taking most of the profit and keeping me trapped living with them because I was earning a pittance.

No one has apologised for all the times I've not been promoted, or not hired in the first place, because I'm trans. No one apologised for throwing me out of Oxford at the end of my first year because I was transitioning. No one apologised for trying to kill me, on that train, in 1997, that left me with concussion and PTSD.

All of these little slices of poison, that stole my life-force, that held me back. That, in an ironic, painful and frankly fucking totally unnecessary kind of way, made me stronger than most people would imagine possible.

To the world at large: don't you ever dare ask me to apologise for being angry about this. That power is mine, and mine alone. I'm taking it back. Reclaiming that lost energy, that lost time, that lost love, that lost hope, that lost life-force. You can't have it. Mine.