Malicious, Cowardly, and Totally Ignorant

A response to a hater.

I often get direct messages sent to me through my Instagram. I usually end up deleting the message requests because they seem like obvious come-ons by chasers of Transgender women. I get these so frequently, I tend to not even bother to look at message requests.

So it goes, I show up 4 days late to a message and get greeted with words from a completely different kind of admirer. This message got my attention real quick! It started out real special; it contained my deadname.

Sadly, a day later, and I still don’t have an answer to my question.

Who is this person who went out of their way to harass me? I have no memory of ever meeting anyone in my life named James Teegans, so I’m going to assume this is a pseudonym.

Despite the mean-spirited and downright ignorant nature of this message, the only thing vexing is the fact that they know me, and I don’t know them. They could be anyone from a current or former coworker, one of my High School bullies still not yet evolved out of their pampers, or perhaps (and less likely) a fringe family member.

Although, I say “vexing,” I really mean annoying. The thing is, there are thousands of people who know me these days, and anyone of them with an axe to grind could easily find my deadname with minimal effort. So it’s really not that big of a deal. If you are really that desperate to know my deadname, I’ll leave you to your Googling; I won’t be mentioning it here.

What I will do is address the individual who sent this message.

First and foremost, let’s reveal a truth. You literally created an anonymous account to harass me. This tells me a lot about you actually. You are too scared of the repercussions that could come from revealing your true identity. This amuses me without fail.

As I shed the shame I carried for 39 years to reveal who I’ve always known myself to be, I have opted to be completely open to the world about who I am. I am not afraid of my truth, or sharing it. You, on the other hand, hide behind anonymity.

That’s the closet. Get it?

I’m not in the closet, and YOU literally put yourself into one. That’s gotta bug you. I mean, here you are lobbing these (poorly articulated) zingers at me, and yet you can’t get an ounce of the credit. That’s priceless. Honestly, I might not have testicles anymore, but I’m infinitely more ballsy than you my friend. I broadcast exactly who I am to the entire world while you skulk around in the shadows. Why are you so cowardly?

Now how about that “fuckin (sic) ugly chic” comment? I’m going to go out on a limb here and say there’s at least 1,200 people who disagree with you on that count.

That being said, I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, but my existence is not being lived for the purposes of being visually striking to you or anyone else for that matter. I’m sorry to disappoint you there. This might come as a shock to you, but I am extremely pleased with my appearance and do not require your approval or validation to be happy with myself.

Your next comment — “wouldn’t stick my dick in ur (sic) fake slit even if i (sic) had a gun to my head” — is as confusing as it is concerning. The mere fact that you gave this much thought to having sex with me tells me a much different story than your attempt at a cohesive sentence.

Your words imply that you believe there is an inherent sexual nature to a gender transition. I’ve met a lot of transgender people in the past two and a half years, and not a single one of them said “I want to transition to have sex.” You’re clearly an idiot if you think anyone does this. But you’re obviously no stranger to idiocy because if you were even remotely observant you’d realize that I am married, and have been for 13 years. So no worries my friend, you weren’t in danger of getting into my “fake slit” anyway. Moreover, there’s almost 7.5 billion people on the planet, if I were in the market I think I have more options than just you — an internet Rando. But if it makes you feel better, you are quite welcome to keep pretending that you had a chance.

As for “what the fuk (sic) happened” to me… I got tired of hiding; tired of being ashamed, overwhelmed by my own addictions, and sick of living in fear. I made a decision that I would stop living a lie that comprised nearly four decades of my life so that I could spend my remaining years happily living as who I know I should have been. Amazingly enough, I have so much more love in my life because I transitioned. So the short answer is; I found myself. That’s what happened to me.

Now, there’s this line in the Bible I love. “And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye.” — Matthew 7:3. I call this the Law of Reciprocal Judgement (thanks be to Jesus). This is the part where — since you opted to focus on what you deem is my “speck” — I get to reflect on your “plank.”

I’m going to assume I have actually met you (at least once). That being said, I need to ask, what happened to you? What happened that made you so scared of speaking these things to my face? What happened that made you so bitter about my happiness that this anonymous attack was the only thing you could do to set your mind at ease? And lastly, what happened that made you choose to follow two Kardashians and Miley Cyrus? Your hate seems very Cishet in nature, but who you opted to follow on this burner account paints a completely different picture.

Maybe it’s time for you to leave your closet; you’ll be so glad you did.

Don’t mind me, I’m just one very happy “fuckin (sic) ugly chick” who still loves her haters.

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