About a year ago, I was the subject of a character assassination. This is probably something we all have some familiarity with to some extent I would think.
The most devastating part of this though was the source of it. Itcame from the one person I had trusted most and actually the first person I ever really came ‘out’ to.
What came next was total surprise. My desire to warn others
around me—specifically those transgendered and cross dressers whom I had worked on several events and stood so much to lose—overwhelmed my natural ‘it is what it is’ attitude.
As I tried to warn others of this major breach in confidentiality, I found that so many of my sisters were willing to look past this, as this assassin was GG, and for them, acceptance by a genetic girl was much more important than the damage she inflicted on me.
Of course I was wounded and tried to move on. Eventually, I bought into the assassin’s excuses and lies and came to question whether the facts I had in hand were real.. I failed to follow up with criminal charges and thought that it would only damage the assassin’s family to go after them in civil court.
The assassin managed to turn most of my sisters against me. To spin this lie that I was the one that dreamt up this ‘issue’ and that I merely wanted to taint the assassin for my own devious plot. It hurt my business. It killed some friendships. It executed the person I am.
I let it go. I thought that karma or some other thing would happen that would allow this to right itself in the universe. Then it happened again, quite recently actually. The assassin struck again. Only this time it wasn’t enough to take my sisters from me, to damage my business and ruin my transgendered reputation. No. The assassin had to come and make sure that my oldest and dearest friends knew what a terrible person I was. See, living in the closet, no matter how far behind you it may be, still leaves skeletons that the assassin can turn against you. Boned crusaders that come at you when you least expect it to drive a sword through the heart of your friendship.
See, this is what the assassin wants. The assassin infiltrates your world under the guise of friendship only to gather the intelligence needed to find where you are most vulnerable. Then the assassin strikes, quickly and without remorse. Why not, the assassin has nothing to lose and nothing to hide and they’ve already cloaked themselves in this air of innocence and support that no other transgendered sister would ever think to question?
My sisters, I ask of you. Is it so important to gain the acceptance of others that we turn our back to the truths in front of us? That we abandoned those that need our kinship, our unification, our support and understanding so that we can individually feel the acceptance of a ‘normal genetic girl’? Is this the extent of our value system? ‘Accept me and all else be damned!’ I certainly hope not.
Stand behind one another. Know each other for the character they possess and not a singular trait that merely makes us feel better about ourselves. Be there for your sisters, as you would want them there for you.
See, I was the assassin’s unwitting accomplice on her last assassination, wanting to be accepted, wanting to feel better about myself, that I let my trans sister succumb. Blind to the fact that the assassin was going to turn on me next.
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