Boys Don't Cry

I just watched “Boys Don’t Cry” for the first time. One-sentence summary for anyone who hasn’t seen it: A FTM passing himself off as a man is found out, and subsequently brutally raped and murdered by his former friends.

I believe that this might be the first time that I’ve been fundamentally, genuinely scared in a long, long time. Like, I can be startled, or I can worry about the future, but that’s not really scared—I can’t remember ever feeling a fear like this. It gets into my heart and my chest and my shoulders and my throat—it says to me, “Alexandria, that could be you.” Fear of what could happen to me as a transsexual just made me break down crying (what an appropriate film title it turned out to be).

I know we’ve come a long way since the 1990s, when the film is set, but all it takes is one crazy, intolerant person, and we (as a society) are not anywhere near truly accepting anyone in the LGBT community. Mob mentality and its implications frighten me, too—if one person picks on the little transwoman, it must be okay, right?

Sorry for this post being a downer—I really meant for my first post-history-explaining one to be upbeat. I’ll get around to it, I promise. I just needed to get that out.