Being Gender-Critical Is Like Being a High School Outcast
Being gender-critical is like being a high school outcast.
Most people don’t want to sit with you during lunchtime. You’re a target for gossip and bullying. You’re different in a bad way. You’re basically the kid with the cooties.
Meanwhile all the popular (trans-affirming) kids are on the “in” crowd, seemingly enjoying a very rich social life, and preferential treatment from teachers and local authority figures.
They get invited to the fun parties, have secret valentines, and are crowned as prom queens. All of the nice activities are designed to include them and exclude you.
If you’re like me, gender-critical and part of other minority communities like being black and gay, you’re even more of an outcast.
You’re already on the outskirts to begin with and then lo and behold, your little group doesn’t like you because you’re not wearing the t-shirt with the right slogan.
So what happens? You end up eating lunch by yourself.
You’re a loner, you don’t fit in anywhere, and life is hard. Even if people are curious and think you’re kinda cool from afar, they don’t want to suffer your fate so they don’t try to make friends with you.
Life might be easier if you tried to be like everybody else, but you’re not as good at being fake as the others. The mask is suffocating.
The thing is that popular kids often struggle when they leave high school. They relied too heavily on the social dynamics of the little bubble they lived in, and now they’re ill-equipped to deal with the real world. Reality threatens them.
If you want to maintain the popularity you earned from toxic and superficial caste systems, you’ll have to continue perpetuating that cycle throughout your life: Chasing an illusion, cocooning yourself in lies, hurting yourself and others along the way.
Unfortunately, that path doesn’t age well. It always ends in bitterness, pain and regret.
As for the outcast, well…there’s a lot of ways this story can go.
I am a very sociable person and it’s easy for me to connect with others. But I have floated around my entire life as a visitor and an outsider. In many ways, I think this has made me the perfect candidate to speak up about controversial issues.
When I’m the new kid on the block, sometimes the ‘popular crowd’ will fall in love with the idea or aesthetic of me. I am often offered a seat at their table.
But I know that the liking they’ve taken to me isn’t real, so I keep a safe distance.
The last thing I need is to rely on a community that’s bound to spit me out once they get to know me.
The only home I’ve ever been able to find is within myself.
While it’s been hard, I have been able to connect with people knowing that they are seeing the real me. And that’s the only place true love can ever thrive in.
So, maybe I’m not the most popular kitty in the bunch. Maybe I’ll always be on the outskirts. And no matter what I do, I’m bound to be disliked.
But at least I’ll know that my life is rooted in realness. When I look in the mirror, I’ll be friends with who I see.
Wherever I go, I commit to bring my whole self with me.
I get it. Would rather be alone with myself than feel alone with my “friends”…