Ftm Quotes

I finally said, "Let's put it this way: I'd rather lose you than stop my shots.""You mean that chemical is more important to you than I am?""No, I am more important to me than you are.

A big fear of mine is that I will die before the gender professionals acknowledge that someone like me exists, and then I really won't exist to prove them wrong.

It really hasn't hit me that I am about to die. I see the grief around me, but inside I feel serene and a certain kind of peace. My whole life I've wanted to be a gay man and it's kind of an honor to die from the gay men's disease.

My opened shirt blew in the wind—The sun tanning my stomach—Feeling lean and alive and beautiful—Saying I am a man—Saying I love men.

I don't even know if there was anyone that's ever felt as I do.. how they coped, what they did...how do I find out what someone like me does?

Being told you are not who you know yourself to be is trauma [page 321]

You told me I couldn't live as a gay man, but now I am going to die as one.

In a lot of ways I think the problem is I spend too much time seeing myself though other people's eyes and not really being in my body and enjoying myself and relaxing in my image.

One of the first significant, substantial purchases I made after starting testosterone, was a Compact Colt .45 1991 A1 automatic pistol. It's just about the best penis substitute I've ever waved at a sex partner. I love my gun. Can I get an a-a-ay-men? You better fucking believe I lo-o-ove my gun. I love to take it apart and put it back together and admire...oh,you sexy little death-machine...I suppose I oughta feel guilty or something, loving and fetishizing to the point of anthropomorphizing it it. But I don't. I won't either-don't matter to me whether or not I'm supposed to keep this a dirty little secret. I got a dick and I can kill you with it. Yeah, baby, trip my trigger, why dontcha. Heh.

Det verkar som om det finns mediciner mot nästan allt. Då borde det ju finnas såna för snopplösa också.

Perhaps if I have sex enough I´ll convince myself I enjoy it?" (Regarding not being able to have penetrative intercourse)

Imagine... You feel great about yourself, but when you look down, your body is the opposite sex from who you know yourself to be. Imagine what it would feel like to live with that descrepancy.

It's not that I've changed, but that everyone else has changed toward me, just because they think I'm male now. And I feel less self-conscious because of that. I haven't changed inside at all.

One Saturday morning walking to the farmers' market with my lover she tells me she needs to look like a man on the street. She hates binding her breasts. Hates having breasts, hates not passing. I press her. I ask her, but what do you feel like when you're naked in bed with me? Do you like your body then? She is quiet. Later she tells me she had a dream. Her mother brought home a bottle of medicine from the hospital for her. The doctor says she has to take it. The medicine is testosterone. On Shabbat I remember to pray for enough space inside of me to hold all the darkness of the night and all the sunlight of the day. I pray for enough space for transformations as miraculous as the shift from day to night. Later when that lover has changed his name and an ex-boyfriend has come out to me as a lesbian I go to visit my best friend's sister-turned-brother-turned-sister-again and she tells me about the blessing of having many names and using them all at once.

When her breast grew, Teena hated how they hurt. When someone stared at her chest, it would make her feel sick. She liked her body before puberty and despised it when it started to develop. She wasn't feminine she wasn't graceful and she didn't want to be [page 47]

Min bild av hur min kropp borde se ut var tydlig, men trots det skulle det dröja många år innan jag förstod att folk trodde att snoppar var en killgrej. Som barn förstod jag inte att några särskilda kroppsdelar kunde ha något att göra med indelningen i pojkar och flickor. Min längtan efter snopp och skägg hade inget samband med min känsla över att inte vara flicka. Däremot funderade jag en hel del över vad det betydde att vara flicka eller pojke.

Many youth who come out in adolescence report not having a strong sense of gender during preschool, kindergarten, or elementary school. Young children are physically fairly gender neutral. If a six-year-old wears girls' cloths and grows long hair, she will be seen as a girl. If the same child cuts their hair and wears boys' people will assume he is a boy. Its only with secondary sex characteristics such as breast, facial hair, and a deeper voice that clothed bodies become more clearly male or female. As a result, gender may not have seemed particularly important for some trans children. It is the onset of puberty and the increased ways they are sexed/gendered in the world that typically precipitate the emergence of adolescent onset gender dysphoria. [page 90]

The term “FTM-Butch Border War” just sounds like an alien land of yore. How is it that the gravitational pull of my beard and low-voice should hold [my lesbian friend's] masculinity in deferential orbit? That when standing side-by-side we are supposedly read in comparison, rendering her unalterably more feminine—shorthand, in patriarchal societies, for “lesser than”? Masculinity has more than enough space to spare. But sometimes its flesh-and-blood vessels act as if we have to wound each other for it, like dogs fighting over too few scraps. Anyway, [she] and I know without speaking that in reality, right here and right now in our present moment, that she and I are two different sides of the same coin; two keys sung for the same tune." - from "Snapshots: "Sharing Space with Women," Original Plumbing Magazine 2014

Is sex reassignment surgery moral/right? ''If a patient came to you and wanted you to remove his normal left eye or his right hand, would you do that, just because he asked you to?'' A patient who comes in with such a request is, on the face of it, acutely psychotic. Transsexuals are not psychotic. Further, transsexuals do not want a useful organ removed, reducing their efficiency; but they want a more or less (to them) useless sexual equipment altered so that a more or less useful (to them) equipment will result.

Az FTM-et a nagy szellemek szervezeteként emlegették. A tagok zöme egyetemet végzett, és sokan a politikai és gazdasági szférák elitjébe tartoztak. Az FTM megpróbált az átlagemberek között is tagokat toborozni, de nem járt sikerrel; arra jutott, hogy az átlagemberekben nincs meg az emberiség sötét oldalának az az átfogó, mély megértése, mint a magasan iskolázottakban. Még ennél is fontosabb, hogy mivel gondolkodásukra nem tett akkora hatást a modern tudomány és filozófia, továbbra is ösztönösen azonosulnak a fajukkal. Elképzelhetetlen lenne számukra elárulni az emberi faj egészét. Az értelmiségi elit ellenben más volt. A legtöbben már az emberi fajon kívüli perspektívából nézték a kérdéseket. A emberi civilizáció máris erős elidegenedést szült.

Az FTM-et a nagy szellemek szervezeteként emlegették. A tagok zöme egyetemet végzett, és sokan a politikai és gazdasági szférák elitjébe tartoztak. Az FTM megpróbált az átlagemberek között is tagokat toborozni, de nem járt sikerrel; arra jutott, hogy az átlagemberekben nincs meg az emberiség sötét oldalának az az átfogó, mély megértése, mint a magasan iskolázottakban. Még ennél is fontosabb, hogy mivel gondolkodásukra nem tett akkora hatást a modern tudomány és filozófia, továbbra is ösztönösen azonosulnak a fajukkal. Elképzelhetetlen lenne számukra elárulni az emberi faj egészét. Az értelmiségi elit ellenben más volt. A legtöbben már az emberi fajon kívüli perspektívából nézték a kérdéseket. A emberi civilizáció máris erős elidegenedést szült.

I don't even know if there was anyone that's ever felt as I do.. how they coped, what they did...how do I find out what someone like me does?

Sometimes I worry (and I know I worry too much, too seriously) that I will have the same self-doubts and uneasiness as a man as I have a woman. I worry that I will fail to find the happiness I think I will. But as I wash myself and prepare for this surgery, when I buy my new shirts and look at my breasts and think they are sexy (!), I know I'll come out of this a better person.

I knew as soon as we heard her say her line, as soon as she jammed it into the conversation, “My partner is trans, FTM, I’m cis female.” She was young enough to state it like a challenge to the middle-aged, hoping someone would ask for clarification and allow her to exercise her superiority over us. She had no idea that your ears drank it in, your mouth tasted it, and your heart claimed it as your own.

I glance down, taking a deep breath into my flat chest. I think of how I’ve been treated, as Asher, as a guy, as myself. No one here is surprised by what they see in me. Nobody here knows any different. “It’s perfect,” I say.

I pull on the socks next. I know I must look ridiculous right now, but the thought of putting on that final piece, the thought of knowing that every second, with every glance, people will see me and not really see me, well, it really fucking sucks.

We scream for ourselves, scream for a world that holds us back, for a world that wants to squish us into small boxes and pretty packages, a world that sees a baby and says “It’s a girl!” then spends every moment it can reminding the baby, now a child, now a teenager, now someone on the cusp of adulthood, that he’ll only ever be defined by those words said by a doctor or a nurse to an exhausted mother, that no matter how hard he tries, his future has been written since the first moment he came screaming into this world, will be written until he leaves it with a final dying gasp of breath.

Finding out the boy you kissed is actually the girl next door probably wouldn’t sit well with most people. Even if he’s not really a girl at all and never has been.

People like us”—he gestures here to us and the folks on the tent side of the train—“we come back because we need to.” We come back because we need to.

but if she truly wanted to experience discomfort, she should try being a closeted trans guy at a Catholic school.

It’s my favorite picture, because when I look at it I can imagine he knew, when he was holding me there, that I was really his son.

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