On Allies

I don’t need them. I don’t want them. If you call yourself an ally, good for you. Gold star. Please fuck off.

What I need are friends, and I have those. I’m always willing to make more. But I choose them. They do not appoint themselves. When I see people call themselves allies, I shrink away. Only recently have I been able to put my finger on why.

It’s fucking demeaning to have a stranger walk up and declare themselves your ally. Even in the best of intentions, it hurts. It presumes that I can’t find my own people to watch my back, that I need self-proclamed allies to help me. It erases my chioce to have, or not have, a relationship with you, because you have declared the shape our relationship from the outset, without negotiations, on the basis of me being queer alone.

And I fucking hate you for it.

Don’t be an ally. Be a friend. I know, I know, being a friend is harder; you have to see me as a person. Or maybe we don’t click. Maybe you can’t stand me. That’s fine. Sometimes people don’t work together. You don’t have to be a Friend to All Trannies. What you can do instead is just try not to be an asshole. Vote for our rights when they’re on the chopping block. And for fuck’s sake, don’t out us to your friends to show how open minded you are for hanging out with trans people. 

Just…just don’t be a shithead. Seriously. That’s all I want. That’s all I need.