I never thought I’d ever say “Thank-you for being you” to anyone who was on a reality TV show. But I truly mean it. Thank-you Bruce.
Bruce Jenner, the long suffering patriarch of the Kardashian/Jenner clan has officially come out in the recent months as a transgender. And he’s currently in the process of transforming himself into a woman.
A secret which hasn’t been very secretive in the last year, with so much tabloid speculation on his transformation. We have judged him, laughed at him, make jokes at his expense, we have been harsh, and we should all be ashamed of ourselves for it.
For quite a few years now, Bruce has been made fun of through the various forms of media, he’s been the butt of so many jokes. I myself, as an observer, have made fun of him in one way or another. Mainly for being such a “beaten wife” with Kris Jenner. I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve heard shock-jocks making fun of him for being a woman, not knowing that in reality, that’s the gender that he actually associates with.
Bruce, has shown a huge amount of courage to come out and go through with his gender transformation so openly. He is a part of the most media stalked family in the world today. This incredibly personal transformation is captured on camera, it’s exposed on so many levels for the world to see for our own personal entertainment. He is showing an immense amount of courage and conviction by allowing the world to witness this transformation, having hidden it for so long.
We may be more open as a society and more accepting, but we are just as critical and more openly nasty than we’ve ever been. We feel that it’s our right to lash out and say whatever is on our mind, verbally, in written rants online, liking other people’s remarks. We all have an opinion, and for the first time, we’re in an era where we want to be heard.
I admire Bruce for the courage, self-awareness and sacrifices he’s had to make to get to this point.
As a 6 year old child, my best friend was a boy who wore dresses. He always wore dresses and I always wore pants. I didn’t think that there was anything wrong with that. He was a boy who like girls’ clothes and I was a girl who like boys’ clothes, and we did everything together. He was my best friend, and my parents thought that there was nothing wrong with that either.
Then, we moved to Australia.
Through school, I learnt that only girls wore skirts/dresses, boys didn’t. It was wrong for boys to wear dresses, it was wrong. But it was OK for girls to wear pants. I asked someone why it was wrong, they told me that it just was, and I accepted it. I told my mother to tell his mother that when they migrated here, he had to wear pants to school, the other kids won’t understand. I was concerned for my friend.
At the age of 7, I was concerned for how society would view my friend. Then I forgot about him, and somewhere between 7 and 18, I became a product of my surroundings. I became one of the kids that I wanted to warn my friend against.
At university, there was a transgender, I always looked when she was around but I never said hello. I wondered why she wouldn’t just wear pants and not go through the scrutiny. I probably even laughed at jokes about how unattractive she was as a female.
In truth, I am disgusted with my 18 year old self. Absolutely disgusted.
At 31, I had long forgotten my former best friend and the transgender at university. One day, at the gym, as I was waiting for my class to start, a group of us were standing around waiting for the previous class to end. It was a class I had occasionally participated in, but failed to make on time that day.
Two gorgeous barbie types were standing around gawking at one of the class participants. “Is that a man or a woman?” one of them asked.
“It’s a man, I think. It doesn’t look like a woman.” They giggled to themselves, amused at how clever they were being.
I glared at them, I was disgusted with the way they spoke about this person. For the first time in my life, I didn’t let it go, I spoke up. “SHE’S a she. She’s… a she.” I told them in no uncertain term. They were shocked at my interjection into their conversation. They were also embarrassed at having being called out. At the time, I didn’t know the name of the She I was referring to, but she seemed nice to me.
I am not proud of the young adult I was, but now, I can kind of hold my head up and respect myself as a person. Don’t get me wrong, I have a long way to go. My head still turns and I wonder “Why? Just shave the beard” when I see the long haired transgender who has a beard, but I’m trying to get there, one day at a time.
Ranter & Banter 