Comfort Here


My value is not my sex. So often mankind makes up value systems (like slavery and segregation) in which people take credit for attributes, like their race or sex, even though they put no work into attaining those attributes.

I watched parts of a movie (A Girl Like Me: The Gwen Araujo Story) on Sunday about a teenager who realizes he’s a woman trapped in a man’s body. The movie is based on the true story of a 17-year-old “pre-op transgender woman” (as Wikipedia describes her) who was killed after three men who’d been intimate with her discovered she was biologically a man.

At first I empathized with Gwen’s killers, “Well, she lied,” I thought. But I’ve lied before, as most people do. Then I thought, “It’s gross that the men kissed what they considered a man.” But then I realized that doesn’t matter as much as we’ve been led to believe.

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