November: Five Things That Annoy Benjamin

Nothing pisses me off more than people who try to pretend they understand things that they really know jack shit about.

Sorry for the language, I'm just quite angry at the moment. And I'll tell you five reasons why.

Thing #1: Eating disorders

When people try to act like they know what an eating disorder is and then say things like “I just don't understand why they don't just eat something!” I literally want to smack my own head against the table.
Clearly, you don't understand what anorexia is at all then, do you? And don't even get me started on bulimia. Things like “ugh, I just couldn't make myself sick like”. Well, no, but you're not bulimic are you? And how hard is it to understand that bulimia isn't just making yourself sick? You can, contrary to popular belief, be bulimic without even making yourself sick at all, just by the way.
People need educated. Now.

Thing #2: Being gay

“You'll be happier when you've found the right man.”
I think every lesbian on the planet has heard this phrase. The thing is though, lesbians don't want to find the right man. They want to find the right woman, it's kind of the point of being a lesbian. Similar to this are things like “Well you might be a lesbian, but that's just because you haven't been with me yet,” or “I bet I could turn you,” all you do, mate, is turn my stomach. Stop it. You're being disrespectful, rude, and your ignorance actually makes you incredibly unattractive so even straight women wouldn't want to be with you. Fool.

Thing #3: Depression

“Just cheer up, put a smile on your face, stop being so miserable.”
I think this might be the most annoying one. Depression isn't just sadness. Someone with depression might have a very good, functioning life. But they just can't feel good about it. I do not want to generalise, because that would make this post irrelevant, but some people would prefer the term 'blankness' to 'sadness', as people with depression can feel more blank about everything, as opposed to being sad. Moods can be funny. Just because you see someone laughing one day, does not mean that they are not depressed. Moods have a party, they jump up and down and change all the time. Just because someone hasn't set up camp on the top of the Tyne Bridge does not mean that they are not depressed.

Thing #4: Being a transman
Obviously, this one is close to my heart.  

“Is it because you don't want to be butch?”

“Are you ashamed of being a butch lesbian?”

“Have you been badly affected by men in the past?”

Sorry, what? Wanting to dress like a man and wanting to be read and treated in every walk of life as male are two completely different things. I know of butch women who, if you even accidentally called them “he”, would not hasten to tearing your head off. You can find them in any gay bar across the world, I am sure. Being a transman is so different from being a butch woman it's not true. Also important to add is that gender identity and sexual identity do not always directly link. Some people think they do slightly, but not always. For instance, it is completely possible to be a gay transman (as in a transman who likes men) so comments such as "Are you ashamed of being a butch lesbian?” are really rather irrelevant. Besides, a butch woman is still a woman; a transman, however, is not
I am aware that on this post I have focused on transmen; I do have a blogpost lined up about transwomen and the hate they can receive, do not fret.

Thing #5: Being camp

Weakly connected to being gay, but not totally, being camp is something which is so widely misunderstood it is not even funny. I myself can be quite camp, but does that mean I am gay? No it does not. I like women, just in case you were not aware. I am also a man (relates back to thing #4), therefore I am straight.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Being camp is not something a person has control of totally. Sometimes I can feel my hands start to dance around without me even realising or wanting them to; I often find myself, while telling a story, doing aeroplane signals all over the shop. I don't mean to be so dramatic, but I am. Alas.
This goes for gay men too. Gay men can have “the gay voice”. It exists, let's be honest. This is something I honestly do not believe they can control. I knew someone who was so far in the closet he was almost in Narnia, and he still had the “gay voice” protesting over and over that he was not gay. He has since came out. He was totally gay.
What grinds my gears the most though are gay people who hate on gay men for being “too camp”. I really, really, don't understand, and having people in your own community bashing on you can be really shit. Just please don't do it. Love your camp brothers, they are struggling too.

I feel like five is a round enough number to stop at the minute. I might do five things a month, how does that sound? Five things that annoy Benjamin. Yes, let's do that.

So here are five for November. I hope you enjoyed them.

Let me know what you think.

Love,

Benjamin x

Validity and Snobbery in English Literature

Tonight, I went to the Panto with University. Yes, you read right. The panto. With Uni. Allow me to explain.

On one of our core modules, we are studying the pantomime. An English Literature degree. I know what you are thinking, those art subjects really do piss around. But it's not quite that. Yes, studying the panto did allow us to snatch up some cheeky discounted tickets to see Jack and the Beanstalk - The Giant Pantomime Spectacular (produced by Qdos Entertainment, the world’s largest pantomime producer) at the fabulous Newcastle Theatre Royal, but it also has taught me a lot about English literature that I wouldn't necessarily would have thought about before.

The main issue I want to discuss this evening is the ever-changing idea of validity. Who says that everything a literature student studies needs to be award winning novels? Or classics? Or Romantic poetry? I mean, yes, those things are important (we did study Jane Eyre and George Meredith after all) but it does not mean they are all we need to study.

Take chick lit for example; chick lit being literature which 'deals with the issues of modern women humorously and lightheartedly' (1) The popularity of chick lit is massive for middle aged women around the world, but it is also a kind of literature which is incredibly successful with other age groups, such as teenagers and even OAPs, it is completely valid in its art form, and let's face it, they're also quite fun to read. "Chewing gum for the brain," as my Dad would say (although you wouldn't catch him dead with The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic). 

But what's wrong with that? People watch Coronation Street and Eastenders for the same reason. People live busy lives, sometimes "Chewing gum for the brain" is exactly what they need. I know right now I wouldn't pass up a re-read of Bridget Jones' Diary (yes, a re-read. I read it when I was fourteen. I actually really enjoyed it, just by the by).

In actual fact, some people find reading Shakespeare like that. I am not for one minute going to say that I am one of these people because I'm not. I enjoy Shakespeare, I read it and I have been to see some of his plays before, but that doesn't mean that I can switch off when I'm doing it. I have to concentrate. But not everyone does. And who would say that Shakespeare isn't worth studying? Not many people, I can assure you.

In the summer, I was talking to someone about what they were reading, to which they answered Les Miserables. When I was impressed she said, "Honestly, I'm only reading it to say I have." And I found that quite sad. She admitted that she was only reading it for other people's opinions of her. If I spent my time doing that, I don't think I'd be doing an English Literature degree at all because I would have fallen out of love with reading a long time ago.

For Uni, just like for school, I am having to read a lot of books I don't like. I can deal with that because I know in a year I won't have to do that anymore. Plus, when I look up onto my shelves, and see the names of my favourites: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Jack Kerouac, Bret Easton Ellis, William Burroughs, Jodi Picoult, Sylvia Plath e.t.c. e.t.c. e.t.c., I know that I can still pick up a book and love it, and want to talk about it, and that's what an English degree is all about for me, I think.

Just so you know, the panto was great, I'll be making a post about it in the next week I think. But right now, I'm going to get into bed, read a bit of something, and go to sleep. And I'm going to bloody enjoy it, too.

Love,
Benjamin x

Disgusting Articles Should Be Illegal

In the past week, I have seen two articles which have actually made me feel physically sick. Last Tuesday I managed to stop myself posting a response to one called "5 Reasons to Date A Girl With An Eating Disorder", talking myself into taking the moral highground. But this morning, when I found a post - on the same site, may I add - called "8 Ways To Spot A Transsexual", I couldn't help myself.

The quote 'I’m not a mental health expert' from said transsexual shaming article, sums up the irrelevance of it in general. However, for men reading this article on the site 'for masculine men' - which I also have a problem with, but I'll go into more detail about that in a moment - I imagine this will be seen as truth.

Now, it's no secret that a lot of people have a problem with trans* people. (If you don't know what trans* means then click here) People feel uneasy, confused, and even disgusted sometimes at the thought that someone would want to "mess" with their gender or sex. As a trans* person, even I can understand that to a certain degree. People feel this way because they don't understand. And why don't they understand? Because people are not properly educated about trans* people and their experiences. But that is a different subject for a different blog post (which I'm sure I'll write at some point).

So although I accept that some people feel confused, I do not think this condones people to write transphobic, ignorance-fuelled articles, telling people - or rather, telling 'masculine men' - how to spot, and avoid, as it happens, trans* people. Or, being more specific 'transsexuals who are “male to female”'.

Why the pigeon holing of MTF trans* people? It appears, through the article, that the writer of this article believes all MTF people to be interested in men. This simply is not true. There are many transwomen who identify as lesbians - therefore not interested in men - and, actually, there are many transmen who identify as gay. You get the picture. The idea that all trans* people are straight is outdated and, well, wrong.

This kind of hatred should be illegal. So why are articles like this still allowed to be on the internet?

Onto the famous eating disorders article. I can't even begin to describe how awful this is. Glorifying eating disorders is one thing, but identifying characteristics (and mostly false characteristics, I'll say) about women with eating disorders and using them to a male's advantage in the dating world is inexplicably wrong.

For instance, why should 'She’s fragile and vulnerable' be a reason to date anyone? It's disgusting! This suggests that men need not try at all in relationships to please their partner. Everyone needs to try in every single relationship, no matter who they are with. Stop being such a narrow minded idiot.

And making the link between eating disorders and financial backgrounds is just fucking ridiculous. It's a mental health condition, anyone can get them, you don't buy them.

Speaking of buying things, saying that women with eating disorders are 'today's best-buy in the West’s rapidly plummeting dating market' suggests you buy women. So you're misogynist too are you? Shocking.

Something I'd like to briefly touch on is the site itself. The tagline 'For masculine men' has me in stitches. I just find that hysterical. Now, I could talk endlessly about how there are thousands of trans* men who are in fact 'masculine men', and would find the articles on this website - not just the one on transsexuals - offensive beyond belief. I myself am one of them, but you know, that seems slightly irrelevant for the time being. 

When I've had a look around the rest of the site, I can see that these two articles are not the only ones which are completely and irrevocably offensive. Amongst them are articles that: slut shame; feminist shame; are misogynist beyond belief; justify their offensive nature; justify rape; blames a fifteen year old suicide victim for his own death; I could go on, but this list is long enough and I think you get the picture that it is disgusting and needs to be taken down.

While I know I am not alone in my viewpoints, I would love to know what you think. I am not going to put a link to the site here, because I do not want their traffic to increase, but the ideas of their articles have been summed up here. If you have not read them, and would really like to read the articles, get in touch with me via Tumblr or Twitter.

Love,
Benjamin x

My Old Man

In recent months, I have realised how much I am becoming like my Dad. This is by no stretch of the imagination a bad thing. I think my Dad is a really cool guy. And he’s nice too. A genuinely good bloke in every way.

I have always looked a lot like my Dad, even when I was little “the double of your Dad” was something I heard a lot. Again, this is not an insult. My Dad is not unattractive and he’s definitely not ugly.

When I was little, I used to mock his music taste. Anything my Dad liked was uncool. Now, I’m not going to say that we have identical music tastes even now: he hates Guns n’ Roses, I love them; he doesn’t like the Smiths, I think Morrissey is a god; he thinks the Beatles were hyped up too much, I don’t think there have been better musical partnerships than Lennon McCartney ever, before or after the Beatles. However, I have found myself liking a lot of things he does: Paul Weller, The Jam, Northern Soul, Oasis, The Who, The Small Faces, The Beautiful South e.t.c. e.t.c.

Amongst my friends, I am seen as the calm mediator. The one who tends to sort other people’s shit out. And whilst I don't know if my Dad is like that with his friends, he is certainly the one in the house who does so. My Dad never shouts at me or my sister, and he rarely tells us off (much to my poor Mam’s dismay).

I know this might be a bit of a stupid blog post to make. Like, Ben, what are you trying to say? That you’re like your Dad? Well yes, but genetics? And you grew up with him as your male role model? Well, yes, but I’d like to know what that means in terms of being transgender.

My gender identity has been pretty clear to me for the past couple of years, but never did I intentionally look up to my Dad and think “I must copy you because I am your son”. I didn’t ever think to do that, but do cisgendered men do that either? Or is it just instinct?

And it is even a gender thing at all? If I wasn’t trans, if I was a cisgendered female, would I still have these characteristics from my Dad, or would I have more of my Mam’s (this is not to say that I don’t have some of my Mam’s characteristics, because I do).

All I know is that since knowing about my gender, I have become more and more like my good old Dad, and I can feel myself getting even more like him the more I get older.

So is this because I now identify as male?

Or is it just something that would have happened anyway?

I’d love to know what other people think about this.

Love,
Benjamin x 

Transgender Day of Remembrance

This week on OurLifeAsTrans, we are discussing TDOR.
In my video, I talk about all the reasons I do not like remembrance days. Even when I was little, when it came to the 11th of November and we were asked to sit in silence for two minutes and remember those who had lost their lives in the World Wars my country had been a part of, I did not like it.

This was not because I was a heartless, ignorant human who did not appreciate the lives of men who died serving my country in years past, it was simply because I did not understand why we set aside just one day out of three hundred and sixty five to remember a particular set of people, when I thought - and still do think to this day - that a decent human being would spend a lot more time thinking than that.

Now, this is not to say that I sit down and think about all the trans* people who have been killed on account of them being trans* every single day of the year, but I know for a fact that I think about it than just the one.

That being said, I do think that having a TDOR is a good thing, even if I do sustain the idea that we should be thinking about our lost brothers and sisters and siblings of every gender identity more than just the 20th of November.

People need to be reminded of things, I know how much that sucks, but they do. Let's be honest, we all have lives. We have deadlines, assignments, doctors appointments, books due back in the library, that take-away we're going to get on Friday, dates, cinema trips, that Xbox game we want, the album we need to listen to, the book we want to read.
We all have things we are thinking about every single day. I think at any one time I am probably thinking about at least five things I should be doing but am not because I'm doing ten other things instead.

Take right now for example, I:

• am writing this post
• am writing another post for another magazine 
• am planning an article for another magazine
• am trying to keep up with a group conversation for my flat
• am uploading a vlog to YouTube
• have an essay due in next Monday
• have a peer review I need to do before Thursday.

We are all busy, and if we're not, then we're doing something wrong.

So to put aside one day a year to think about something really important can be beneficial to us as an incredibly busy society.

Just making this blog post has made me think about the trans* people this world has lost due to hatred more than I would have done without it. Being on Facebook and seeing people post about it has ignited discussions worldwide about things many people wouldn't usually think about.

The question is though, how do we make it more widely discussed. I honestly think 99% of my cisgendered friends wouldn't have a clue there even was a TDOR, let alone be able to tell me when it is. So how do we do it?

Social networking sites are probably our best bet, but then do we take away the genuine feelings we have?

Being invited to events doesn't mean anything anymore; FarmVille ruined that for me.

Hashtags? Probably would have an impact too, but not when they're next to #WeLoveYouHarry

I still think the best way of spreading love is to open our mouths. Open our mouths the the people directly around us. Make people listen with compassion.

So what I ask of you is this: don't just think about Trans* people who have lost their lives tomorrow, on November 20th, try and think about our lost ones more than just that.

And don't just think about lost trans* folk. Think about all folk we have lost due to hate crimes, suicide, murder.

Think, and don't stop.

Because if you do stop thinking, the what on earth are you doing?

Love,
Benjamin x

Benji = Feminist Man Forever

You go into a club, you order a drink, you have a dance, you kiss, you laugh, you fall over, you look on the stage and there is a girl dancing in her underwear, grinding against a pole or a chair or a man.

It's normal.

The fact that seeing women dance around in nothing but their underwear is something we as a society are completely comfortable with frightens me completely.

Don't get me wrong, I know that a lot of women get paid a lot of money to strip off and dance and have nothing against that at all – in fact, I'd be stupid if I didn't think they were over the moon about it sometimes – but that does not mean it is OK.

Like if a lawyer was paid to walk around in his underwear, would that make it right?

Why?

Because a lawyer's profession is different to that of a dancer? Or because I used the gender pronoun “he”? What if a male dancer was prancing around in just his underwear? What would you think of that? I bet a lot of people would think he was gay. Or maybe they'd just think him a bit “girly”.

As if “girly” would equate to the showing off bodies and prancing around in the nud, and not just to describe people who identify as girls.

Yes, I am making a feminist post. Why? Because it's necessary.

When I walked into a club on Wednesday evening, the last think I thought I would see was a woman's hoo har on stage. And that is what I saw.

No, believe it or not, I was not whooping and running around like an uncontrollable youth, I was disgusted.
Is that really necessary? No it was not. She was doing the splits. In the air. In leggings so see-through, that everyone who was looking could see everything.

Everything.

I then noticed that behind her was a guy. He was dressed top to toe in black. A black cap, a black t-shirt and a pair of baggy black jeans. I thought he was a body guard; maybe he was up there top stop someone going up and grabbing her. Whatever.

No.

He was the male dancer. And he had on about five times the clothes she did.

Allow me to set the scene: a sports' bra which was not quite a sports' bra at all but more a stretchy bra with no support, paired with some calf length see-through leggings. That was it. Why? Because she was a woman.

His dancing was different too – of a different style. He moved. She didn't. She bent and she twisted and she stretched her legs all different shapes but she barely moved her feet at all.

The guy on the other hand was all over the place. Moving with the music. Jumping up and down. Moving his way around the ring, like a dancer traditionally would do.

As far as the clothes went, the most the guy's did was his top fell down slightly when he did a hand stand.
And then he jumped up and pulled it down.

God forbid we see his stomach.

And don't get me wrong, it was not their fault; they are just paid to do what they need to do. It's our fault, mostly. The clubs give us what we want and we appear to be happy. Well, I for one was not happy. I wasn't happy in the slightest. I'm not even happy now.

Angry feminist blogger!

Alas, here I am, in my flat, ranting about skantily-clad women dancers who are out there right now having a whale of a time in front of thousands of people – men and women – my age who are totally enjoying themselves.

And I am writing a blog post. At half twelve. On a Friday night.

Who's the sad one?

Well, I know which one I'd rather be.

Let me know what you think? I'd really like to know.

Love,

Benjamin x

“Excuse me!”: a Geordie rarity?

Since beginning my studying at Newcastle Uni, I have found that less and less people I meet have the same accent as me. So few Geordies go to Newcastle Uni, it’s slightly frightening. But that’s ok! I’ve met people from all over: Northern Ireland, Cambridge, Lincolnshire, Birmingham, Glasgow and even Canada and Poland.

However, I have found that whenever I see someone push their way past me, whether it be I’m broad daylight or in a club, they are never from the North East. Ever.

Now, I hate stereotypes (like really hate them) and I don’t think that manners depend on where you’re from (on the contrary, I’ve met some beyond rude people from my home village which is so far north it’s practically Scotland) but I must admit there seems to be a theme!

The other day in a lecture, we were faced with the question about what we would expect from Northerners and Southerners and, as you would expect, many people called Southerners rude, arrogant and anti-social, while claiming Northerners to be friendly, well mannered and talkative. This seems to hold some truth but, as I say, all stereotypes can be broken.

So basically, what I am trying to say, is to all people: say “excuse me” if you want to squeeze through me and my friend to get to the bar and I am less likely to get pissed off at you for ordering your vodka and coke before my shot of tequila even though I got there first.

Maybe.

Say “excuse me” before you shout at me for not guessing that you wanted to be passed on your bike even though I am in the pedestrian lane and the cyclist lane is not even a metre to the left of me and I am less likely to do star jumps in front of you, henceforth not allowing you past.

Perhaps.

Say “excuse me” before pushing your way past into the toilets even though I am sure your bladder is just as able to wait as mine is and HELLO DIDN’T YOU SEE I’VE BEEN HERE FOR TEN MINUTES AND HAVE STILL NOT VISITED THE LOO!? and I am less likely to stick out my leg, making you fall down so I can loo before you do.

Probably (I’d never trip anyone over).

Just say “excuse me” please. I’d even settle for “‘scuse me”. I really would.

Love,
Benjamin x

My Heart Will Go On

If I have learnt one thing at University, it is that 'My Heart Will Go On' is not an appropriate song to burst out laughing at.

Allow me to set the scene:

It's Thursday 7th November 2013, 22:10. I'm sitting in the pub with my flatmate, Amber, talking about the meaning of life (probs not, but whatever). I get a phone call from one of my best buds, Beth. I know she's out herself.

"Ben!!!"

I laugh, then, tune my ear into the most beautiful rendition of the 1997 song 'My Heart Will Go On' I have ever heard in my life.

Fast forward to this morning, sitting in a poetry 'Showing and Telling' seminar. Bored out of my mind. The lecturer, whom I have never met before, suddenly tells us that we are going to analyse music.

Music? OK.

On comes... you guessed it... none other than 'My Heart Will Go On'.

Oh, crap, Benjamin. Something I forgot to mention: Beth, the drunken singer, was sitting right next to me.
Well, it's safe to say I couldn't cope and spent the entire 3 minute of the song in silent laughter, trying to not out myself (and Beth) as the disruptive students we really are.

Move over, Celine Dion, Beth Allison and her extremely talented voice is here.

Coming soon to a creative writing seminar near you.

An Abundance of Benjamins

There are a lot of Benjamins in this world.

There are those who stay Benjamin, some who prefer Ben. Some who go by their last name and, I'm sure, those who go by their middle.

Some who don't have a middle name at all.

But this Benjamin, this Benjamin doesn't really care what you call him. As long as it is a variation of, you guessed it, Benjamin.

I had another blog. I've had lots of blogs. But this is the first blog as Benjamin.

Here I will spill my soul about the experiences of: University; trying (and mostly failing) to be a writer; going through life as a hopeless romantic in the dirty yet exciting streets of Geordie Newcastle; and lots of other stuff too.

So here you will see writings, from me alone, from this Benjamin.

And this Benjamin says a lot.