MUSINGS FROM THE UNABASHEDLY POLITICALLY INCORRECT

A "trigger" is a legit psychological term that was kind of co-opted and is often used in ways that aren't what it was meant for, as are many things these days. So remember that. A vet with PTSD has triggers, they just probably aren't conversations on the internet lol Otherwise, interesting takes.

I, too, tend to be politically incorrect in many instances. In some cases, I simply don't care to take a stand either way, which in its own way is politically incorrect. The transgender topic is a good example of this. The label a person decides to slap on themselves has no effect on my life or my family. If you were born with a penis but want to be called 'she'. I honestly don't care, it has no effect on me or said transgender's coworkers or wedding cake bakers of the world. Do I think these extensive, made up pronouns and sexual identities are silly, yes: zie, sie, ey and the others seem excessive and unnecessarily confusing when gender is based in reproductive capability. BUT, if we work together and you want me to call you 'zie'. OK. I'm not going to get upset about it. As to your other example; I feel rather strongly on this matter. These safe places and protests over guest speakers and the like is too much. It is making the next generation weak and unable to cope with challenging and uncomfortable situations. I am raising two teenage girls and our home is a place where you learn to poke fun at yourself and those you love. You learn not to take life to seriously. You learn when something makes you uncomfortable the only way you are going to conquer that is to face it. Put your head down and push through and become a better person on the other side. For example, my oldest daughter is 16 and can be a bit shy about approaching new people. She knows this. She is just got a job as a hostess at a restaurant, where her job will be to approach and greet new people. She's both excited and nervous. She's excited to have a job and also at the prospect of growing as a person and conquering a fear. My point is, this culture of sheltering people from things that make them uncomfortable is actually crippling them. My philosophy on this in relation to fiction is: "Don't be the disposable character in a post apocalyptic novel." Take Stephen King's The Stand or more recently Nora Roberts Year One as examples. As a character, if you can't cope and overcome obstacles, you're going to be one of the first to die. No one will say "hold up force of darkness, Susie is having an anxiety attack, we need to find her a safe space."

The beauty of freedom is that we do not have to agree with one another. As someone who has grown up in the wrong body, and known it since I was about five years old, I have some very strong views about this topic. It cannot be black and white, cut and dry. As I grew, born with what seemed to be male parts, I still developed small breasts. I grew up with feminine features, never felt any draw towards male geared activities. As my body developed, there seemed to be less and less able that was male and more that was female. But applying your logic, I was a man, cut and dry. So I continue my life, served my country and was wounded, which will come around to make my case a bit more clear in a moment. Identity and misidentification can have serious and harmful effects on a person. Depression, suicidal thoughts, alienation, bullying all were things I dealt with. Years later, when my wounds from battle rose up to cause issues for me, I needed several rounds of surgery to correct the problems. It was during a detailed examination and scans of my pelvic floor region that the doctors found the oddest thing. I had been born with not only male parts, but what appeared to be something resembling a vagina as well. Now don’t that beat all!! All the outward physical characteristics I presented lent towards the female side of the spectrum. Even my trachea is of the size of a woman’s. My colon is not in line with the male anatomy, which caused some complications during my first colonoscopy when they wanted to shove the adult male apparatus up there! Even my internal organs lent toward being a woman, but I still had that “thing” dangling between my legs. So what am I? I was studied, poked and prodded, had every test, scan you can imagine to find out what exactly was going on and what on earth was going to be done with poor Jackie. Well, as you might have guessed, I flipped a coin, (not really), realized I was indeed a woman, a penis doesn’t make me a man with the overwhelming different parts of my body that weren’t male, and I am today the woman I was really born as, regardless of what hanging to the left or right. Hope that brings a little different perspective to the matter for ya! Take care, Jackie Hemingway, a woman…