Finding my price.

[agent_dani]

They say that every person has their price. I used to pride myself on not having one, but this week I discovered in a major way both that I do and what mine is.

From a more personal and moral position was my Wednesday session with my first therapist for a surgery letter. To get that I had to agree to (claim to) fit so very many trans tropes and stereotypes. Some do, indeed, describe bits of my life (i.e. that I knew from a very young age) but I have a disagreement with those being a required part of this process because it is part of claiming invalid the gender of those who did not have those experiences, and I deeply hate having to be a part of that. My choice was to be complicit or to find another therapist and delay surgery by a year.

On a professional side, I have long said there were places for whom I would not work because of my own disagreements with what they do. Tomorrow I begin a week of doing work for such an agency as part of my job. It means being able to afford surgery.

I've made my choices; now I need to live with them and find my peace.

Comments

[sugar-for-sugar.livejournal.com]

I know this is hard, but sometimes you have to do what you can to survive. Don't forget that survival has a hierarchy in your haste to judge yourself. What is the first thing they teach you in first aid? "Is where I am safe? If Yes, Then take next action, If No, Then get where it IS safe." This is you, getting where you're safe. You deserve the freedom to own your body. Time enough to take steps to get where you're more ethically and morally comfortable once you've gotten to the point where you're physically comfortable. You can run from a bad job when you're ready but you can't run from the body you live in.

[agent_dani]

*offers hugs* that was *exactly* what I needed, thank you!

The worst part is that it isn't a bad job in the usual ways; it's a good place to work and all, but it presents me with an ethical delima.

[phonemonkey.livejournal.com]

Ever read Maus? One of the major recurring themes of that book is that good people sometimes have to do horrible things (far worse than telling therapists what they want to hear), betray all sorts of people and principles that they loved and believed in, to survive.

Getting your body to a state where you can be happy living in it and don't need to kiss ass to someone with a certificate on the wall - that means you're free to use your principles in a real-world way. To lobby and testify and donate to get shit changed. Perhaps to be a role model and mentor to vulnerable trans kids who don't even really believe that an IT career might be possible for them. Or to be promoted to the point where you can say "I don't think our company should work with organisations that espouse these principles" and your colleagues will listen.

Hating the body you live in is not going to help anyone else or improve things for trans people as a whole. It's only going to make it harder for you to do all the amazing things that you can and will do in your life.