This was written a year ago, at the end of pride 2019, before parades made room for demonstrations, before the world changed, giving everyone a taste of the isolation and desperation of the colder side of the trans experience, before the streets filled with our allies and kindred spirits in unity in oppression.
Since last year, this post has only become more relevant as the world shapeshifts around us, so I’m starting this new blog with it; as a reminder to myself of who I once was, and a reminder to keep that wrath ready in hand for years of strangeness to come.
Wrath month, like any powerful state of mind, is never over.
A world growing more hostile to gender adventurers like myself often feels like it’s closing in around us, threatening our existence and our survival while dismissing our identities out of hand and observing us only through distorted thinkpieces by self-appointed experts who don’t see what a lot of the determined strugglers in our community go through.
The realisation, the closet, the awakening, the emergence, the adjustment, the prejudice, the discrimination. The expectance from a cisheteronormative world that we should have our shit together as much as any of them despite our having lived half a life of not quite existing as ourselves, right alongside the rejection by a large part of that world that can be felt and noticed for years as it trickles down through our lives.
We have a lot to be wrathful about, and it’s okay to hold onto that wrath if it gives you the strength you need to survive whatever becomes the next challenge in your precious, blessed, heroic queer life.
For every little thing that brings the wrath: use that wrath. Direct it against what would otherwise try force us into passive, accepting silence. Channel that which burns you into ways to change what’s wrong with the world around you. Take up space like it belongs to you. Assert your pronouns with vigour. Don’t mould yourself to the expectations of others; mould their ways around respecting and protecting whoever you want to be.
Be the reminder that trans and queer rights are far behind, worldwide. Let the people in your life know about the adversity that our identity choice brings. Shame that cis friend buying from that transphobic company. Be the reason the people in your life join your causes. Share those petitions for our lives and our rights and the news stories of our hardships on your social media in their faces. Engage with them. Challenge them. Don’t let them obey their human urge to turn their eyes away from pain and that which would destroy us; that which desires a world of Them and Us, at odds, not learning from each other.
People who aren’t part of our struggle don’t see the strands of prejudice, queerphobia and adversity trickling down thru grooves and cracks into our lives unless we point them out. They don’t enjoy it either, though; nobody likes even a tiny little bit of complicity, however slight, in oppression. But by opening up avenues to understanding us better, including the uncomfortable truths, allyship is made and forged strong.
Any real ally who deserves a place in your life is always going to reconsider and instead think about you and about us whenever they find themselves about to do or say something that once got them a serving, however sweet and tender, of your meaningful, powerful, righteous queer wrath.
And that’s powerful.
Happy Wrath month, for wrath month never ends. Use your powers well, siblings, and always do your best to smite with love and care.