Have you even notice that most of us are missing? Yeah, right... like you even noticed. And that's part of the problem, dear cisqueers. We know you didn't notice we were missing. Why should you? You never did before.

I'll let ya in on a secret. We're having the big giant transchicks conspiracy meeting right now, and YOU ARE NOT INVITED.

Kind of like how you didn't invite us into your queer communities, your women's communities, your radical communities, your social groups, your dating pools, your shows, your art, your culture, your knitting circles, your feminist reading groups, your activism, your parties, your events, your music festivals, your lives. And I use "your" here with snide irony since most of those things that you lay claim to and say are "yours" and yours alone. They're not. We were with you every damn day, shoulder to shoulder, building it with you, brick by brick. But somehow they're "yours". The absolute nerve of you.



Well, screw you. We're so outta this here joint. We are DONE with you and over you and we're getting the fuck out from under you. It's not us, it's you. Actually, it's both of us. It's us telling you "NO, YOU ARE HURTING US" and you not listening and us not wanting to rock the boat and tell you "NO, REALLY. WE FUCKING MEAN IT." because we just wanted you to love us even a percentage as much as we loved you.

It's us telling you to stop hurting us dammit and you with your cistears and cisworries and cisderailing crying "Get off the internet". We're done with feeling like third wheels, we're done with you calling us when you want us to work your events or help you move, but losing our phone numbers when it comes to the dance party. We're done having you ask us "Why don't you fight the real enemy" when I KNOW I was standing next to you, fighting that fight every damn day and had you just, for a moment, wanted to look at me and see the awesome woman standing next to you, you would have seen that transwomen had been fighting the "real" enemy next to you all along.



So. And I say this with all the love I can muster right now.

FUCK YOU.

We're going to create our own dance parties. Our own feminism. Our own loves and lives and community. And we're going to get it wrong and we're going to work to fix it and we're going to fuck up along the way, but that's ok. Because it's going to be something WE made. We're going to cry together and yell at each other and apologize to each other and talk about really hard things and really silly things and we're going to talk about loving ourselves and we're going to hurt each other and we're going to help each other and we're going to hold each others hands and we're not going to let you treat us like shit anymore.

And you will see none of this and your community will be the worse for it and you may even notice our absence after a time. And then, after we've created something wonderful, something fucking beautiful, something we're ready to show the world, we're going to crack those doors open a little, and show the people who stood in solidarity with us all along what we made and we're going to drink with them and hug them and cry with them over what they watched us bleed and cry and die for. And you....



you. who fought us tooth and nail when we told you that you were hurting us.

you. who gave us nothing more than lipservice.

you. who used our bodies and experiences and laid claim to them because you thought we wouldn't fight back.



We're going to remember your phone numbers. We're going to invite you in to show you what WE made without YOU. And we may even forgive you in time. We may even let you back into our hearts, into our love, and into our souls. But there is no free meal here, baby. You're going to have to work like hell, show us that you value us, show us that you want nothing more than to stand with us again.