Here we are, nearly a quarter of a century in to the 21st century, and here I sit as a radical feminist, fighting for the right to call myself a woman, to call myself female, to be able to say out loud ‘Only women have a cervix’. What’s the reason for this ridiculous state of affairs? Well, it’s the great trans distraction. When our oppressors put on a dress and some lipstick and class themselves as more oppressed than women, and the rest of the world, seemingly, falls in to line.
Radical feminism stands in direct opposition to the notion of gender ideology. Radical feminists are gender abolitionists. The very idea that it is the nature of the clothes that we wear that causes our oppression is way beyond insulting. For the whole of my adult life I have worn the clothing that hangs on the rails of the assumed ‘male’ half of the shop. Yet, in wearing those clothes, it’s never magically protected me from the unwanted gaze or attention of a man that sees me as a possession to be taken at his will.
How can it be then, that if a male puts on a dress and some lipstick, they are suddenly so vulnerable?
It’s not true. That’s the end of the discussion in terms of the present day forced beliefs that a man dressing to represent femininity is in greater danger than a woman dressing anyhow she bloody well pleases. I still got beaten up. I was still sexually assaulted. I still got raped. What I wore never impacted on those things happening or not happening. Only the reality of my sexed existence did that. Only the fact that I am biologically female made me a victim of those most vile of male intentions.
But, that’s the point isn’t it. That is exactly why radical feminists who believe in the abolition of gender are being kept busy trying to defend the madness of gender ideology, because it keeps us from the real work of our feminism. It holds us locked in to the most stupid and banal of debates, whilst all the things that oppress us grow in strength and popularity, and the reality of the insidious root of gender ideology remains dutifully unexposed.
Men don’t dress as women because they genuinely believe themselves to be born female, to have been born in the wrong body. That’s just a narrative projected to elicit sympathy and force you to look away from their worn reality. If men dressed in feminine clothes because they genuinely believe that they are women, why do over 80% of these men keep their penis? Why? Well, because it’s real name is autogynephilia (AGP). A sexual fetish that sees men become sexually aroused by the thought and sight of themselves as women. They keep their male sex organ, as they still need their beloved penis, to carry their AGP thought process through to its intended close.
As a radical feminist, if I wasn’t in this constant battle to protect and maintain the language that I use to explain my lived reality, that describes the sexism that I’ve faced every day of my female life, I could be out there fighting against pornography and its creep, now march, into the realities of youth culture. This is the same pornography that has gone on and fuelled the rise of transgenderism, rough sex, BDSM, and, in my opinion, defiled the beautiful act of love-making that is since considered boring and dull. A lost connection to intimacy that will be faced by our youth as the nature of the porn is that it must get more abstract, more harmful, more debasing, in order to still provide the ultimate aim of some kind of sexual gratification. Ultimately, in my opinion, it is the man that gets the enjoyment in this sex, whilst the woman is a mere accessory to his desire.
If it wasn’t for my having to fight against the erasure of my language to describe my lived experience, I could fight with my righteous rage against pornography and the billion dollar industry built up around it.
As a radical feminist, if I wasn’t in an endless battle to protect and hold on to the words that I use to describe myself as a female, I could be pushing back against the narrative that declares ‘Sex work is Work’. If sex work truly is work, why do women and young girls need to be trafficked in to the ‘profession’. I’ve never come across another so-called ‘profession’ that employs trafficked accountants, solicitors or GP’s. Have you? Do prostituted women get paid sick leave, annual holidays, benefit from workers employment rights and is there a union? No, none of that. Bought consent is paid for consent, or, as I prefer to call it, paid rape. Sex acts and beatings that a man wouldn’t get away with inflicting on their own wife or girlfriends are played out on vulnerable women and girls for not much more than £5 in many cases. Another scenario where it is the man that gets the enjoyment in his act of sex and the woman is nothing more than a corpse to be defiled.
Again, if it wasn’t for the fact that I am knee deep in this ridiculous battle to protect and save the language that describes my lived experiences of walking this earth, I could better spend my time trying to help vulnerable women escape prostitution and keep myself busy lobbying government to make buying sex the crime, rather than the selling of sex as it is now. But here I am.
As a radical feminist, were it not for having to fight to protect my language and the language that needs to exist for all the women and girls yet to be born, I could be highlighting the damage done to both the mother and the child in surrogacy. The bonds broken and lost to both that will ultimately cause yet another generation of lost children, and add to the already endless stream of broken women. I could be shouting about the hypocrisy of finding yet another way to turn the glorious female body in to a commodity to aid consumerism and capitalism. Instead, I find myself watching people applaud, and I watch this industry grow, with little or no regard to the women that carried and created that child. No concerns whatsoever for the child being bought and sold as a product, who will likely be traumatised and left with a gaping hole in their knowledge of themselves, because their creation and selling on is more important than their mental wellbeing.
And so it is, if I wasn’t distracted by the preoccupation of fighting for the language to describe it is only a woman who can create and carry a child, I could be out there highlighting the hypocrisy of this industry and its complete and utter lack of regard for the human condition and our fundamental interconnections to the lives we occupy.
As a radical feminist, were it not for the need for me to stand up against the men who like to colonise my female experience and wish to erase my descriptive language, I could be out shouting and screaming about the intolerable epidemic of violence against women and girls that sees 2 to 3 women a week killed here in the UK by men known to them, most often at the hands of a partner, ex-partner or member of their own family. I could be shining a light on the reality that although women are quite rightly scared of going out on their own at night, some even during the day, they are actually statistically safer out of their homes than they are in them. My time could be spent ensuring that each of the women murdered in their own homes, by a family member or man known to them, didn’t die and was then immediately forgotten, in order to cover the ugly reality that femicide is an accepted phenomenon within patriarchy.
And so it is again, but this time the coincidence and the hypocrisy of this distraction is unyielding in its ugliness. Was I not preoccupied with the undoing of the lie that a man can be a woman because he says so and undoing the erasure of my language as a result; I could be out there on the streets, shining a spotlight on the reality of femicide and countering it against the unreality of trans murder rates and the assumed trans oppression.
Ultimately though, that’s the ruse. That’s the con. That’s the great distraction.
It is women that are killed by men in huge numbers, not trans-identified-males (TIM’s). When you look at the actual statistics, TIM’s are the safest demographic in the UK, with only 3 killed in the last 9 years, that is never proof that they are the most vulnerable. Yet, there is a week of trans remembrance. A month of trans pride. There is just one single day put aside to remember the women killed by men (25th November). There is one day set aside to celebrate the gift of mothering bestowed to the female, but the very name of that day is under threat because it makes TIM’s feel excluded from womanhood. I, with my radical feminist sisters, stand vehemently opposed to the very notion of there ever being such a day as Happy Birth-Givers Day.
Transgenderism is gaining formidable traction across the western world, because ultimately, the breaking down of what it is to be a woman IS to the advantage of all men. It is only in the western world that there is the time to pursue such an agenda, unless it is done out of extreme homophobia (for instance Iran). It is only really in the middle classes that the ideas of transgenderism are given the freedom of expression and indulgence. Working class families don’t necessarily have the time for such preoccupations. If, as the mantra dictates, and ‘transwomen are women’, they would not have achieved in less than a decade, what it has taken us women many, many lifetimes to fight for. Unless you actively choose NOT to see it, that is the clearest evidence of all that the trans rights lobbyists are, in reality, a men’s rights movement, giving home, justification and purpose to all men that wish to see women’s rights, language and freedoms impeded and eroded.
The speedy rise of transgenderism, its ultimate acceptance as a movement, and the painting of anyone who opposes it as bigoted Nazis, pushes all of the other issues that are mentioned, that any woman-loving, woman-centred radical feminist should be fighting against, back in to the shadows. Back out of the light, because the silencing of radical feminism, indeed any feminist thinking, is the ultimate aim of men.