When it comes to trans, we live in a world of party poopers.
As we try to capture our own energy, our own intensity, our own passion we share our dreams with the people around us, with our family, with the people we love.
And then they poop on our dreams.
They just can’t get excited about what we imagine. They find lots and lots of reasons why our dreams are impractical or silly or just not possible. They can’t see why we would want to put scarce energy into them, so they just work to burst our balloons, shoot down our hopes, and just generally be party poopers.
Sometimes, they do this because they have other priorities, are stuck in their own struggles. Many times, though, they tell us that they are pooping on us for our own good, that they are just being realistic and practical, that shattering our illusions is the kindest thing that they can do for us.
Our excitement goes out into the world and then it goes dead. Instead of getting our energy reflected back, getting mirrored, affirmed and reinforced, we get it dulled down, absorbed, diminished, and dismissed.
The trans party is just somewhere people are uncomfortable going, so when we try and get the party going, try and build momentum, try and get loose and dance, others just poop.
Stigma always works this way. The boundaries of proper, right, cool and valuable are taught, so when someone wants to move beyond them, they get resistance rather than encouragement. They get no-no and pooh-pooh and then either have to go along with the group or go it alone.
When we face stigma the amount of energy to achieve escape velocity, to get to take off is so much that we get pooped trying to achieve it. We give up, give out, ending up suppressed and depressed, our dreams blunted.
Revolution is exhausting, living in a world where we have to try and press for change, for new, for innovative every time, a world where habit, convention and the status quo become a blanket to oppress and resist any change.
Why bother trying something new, people tell us, when what we have now is so comfortable and change will just lead to frustration, exhaustion and failure anyway?
Pooping is the art of finding reasons to say no. Saying no to the different, the scary, the unknown is easy, and that means saying no to the tender dreams in our heart is easy too.
Is there any wonder we struggle for yes, struggle to feel our transformational energy coming back to us, reflected in encouragement and affirmation?
Is there any wonder why, when we get resistance, stigma, shaming, dismissal, and mocking the party inside of us gets wet, broken and fading?
Is there any wonder why, after a lifetime of facing party poopers we just feel totally pooped?