by Jaqueline Sephora Andrews
The horror I have faced. I hear the trans community talk about doxxing, even accusing certain radical feminists, but there is no one who doxxes like trans activists. I have experienced their doxxing because I stood up to a bully who had threatened a woman and her children. I then stood up to him again as he was tweeting about feminists, saying some very disgusting things. I did not know that he was a professional hacker, and how my life would change because of his stalking and hacking. But it happened. It was his hate for women which led him to doxx me, in order to shame me. This has had such an effect on me that the sight of his name in my twitter mentions always make me nervous. I am afraid to talk about relationships or who I might be interested in, for fear of being watched. He says he doesn’t care anything about me, but yet he manages to find his way into my twitter mentions. He tries to use the information he has of me as proof that I am a hypocrite, even though the information he has is before I was gender critical. This has caused me pain, but it also taught me something about trans activism. If you are labeled as a TERF or TERF token, then you are not considered human; they treat you as they see fit.
The first doxx and shaming attempt had to do with my sexuality, and the kind of man I tend to be attracted to. What this has to do with this particular man threatening women, I do not know. The new shaming attempt that has arisen is that I am an aspiring Shemale porn star, who is taking divinity classes. In actuality, Divinity is my master’s program, and I never has aspired to be a shemale porn star. The shemales who also harass me because of my stances, usually targeting my looks, could tell you that much. I don’t even use this term, but it doesn’t mean that I have never had conversations about a career in pornography, or prostitution for that matter. What my harassers/doxxers won’t mention, is the hardship I have had since I came out. I have suffered rejection from family and friends. I have struggled to find employment in spite of being able to complete my degree, in Sociology. I have been homeless, sleeping in my car. I have suffered from depression and loneliness, which has had an effect on my decisions. Trans activism believes in “agency,” so surely every act that I have done was based on my freedom to choose. Pornography and prostitution are awful, and I have never done either. However, I was still not spared the harm of a “sex positive culture.”
My sexual horror began when I met a man who was very in to Bondage, Domination, and Sadomasochism (BDSM). I was his submissive. I never called myself his slave, but he thought of himself as my master. I could not call him by his name, but had to refer to him as “Sir” or “Daddy.” He sought to control every aspect of my life. He would give me assignments and a book to read that would “help” me in my development as a submissive. I was always afraid to talk to him because I never knew what mood he would be in. Sometimes he was nice, but that could all change if I said something that he deemed wrong. He loved to drink beer, which made him unbearably mean. I hated those times when he was drunk; I could never do anything right, and he was very critical of me. He would beat me, but of course it’s all a part of BDSM. They tell us to use safe words, when the pain is unbearable. However, he would sometimes beat me ten to fifteen times after I had used a safe word. In his face, I could see anger sometimes as he beat me. This was quite normal and BDSM is a loving act between consenting adults, right? I often said yes to him, but my mind and my emotions were saying no. I absolutely hated this life.
But my horror did not end here. It was a span of about three days. My brother had just been killed, so I was having a really difficult time. My dom came over to “comfort” me, but this time he brought someone, a mutual friend. He was there to videotape us having sex. My dom was very much into pornography and had aspirations of making movies. At this point, other than the videotaping, everything was how it always was. After our “friend” left, then my dom in his drunken state began to humiliate me. I videotaped cleaning in nothing but pantyhose and high heels. This was such an awful feeling that I began to cry. I was allowed to put clothes on to take out the trash, but I was forced to wear heels. It was a long walk, as the trash was at the other end of the apartment complex. I remember as I was walking back, with tears in my eyes, a woman saying “I don’t know how you do it girl, walking in those heels!” I said “oh yes” with the fakest smile I have ever had. And after this humiliation, I had more sex to look forward to.
The next day, my dom called our friend over again to do what they call a “drive by,” which meant that they would both have sex with me. As the submissive, I was to let them do whatever they felt like doing to me. This was the roughest sex I have ever experienced, and afterword I was in pain. I still remember the feeling like it was yesterday. The pain was greatest when I used the bathroom. I was actually afraid of using the bathroom because of the pain I felt. That night, I needed to recover. I knew that my dom would understand and respect my wishes. After all, I was told that “the submissive is the one with the real power.” Did he respect my wishes? Please, take a guess. All he ever cared about was sex and he often demanded it. This time was no different. When he began to demand sex, I told him about my condition. I thought he would at least care about me and my body. He became so forceful, that I gave in to his demands. Again, I remember it like it was yesterday. I felt pain the moment he entered me, and I repeatedly told him that I couldn’t handle this pain and to please stop. It hurt so bad that all I could do was cry. How was this me exercising my agency? Why would someone accept BDSM as a “normal” way of affection? To the submissive: you were not meant to be beaten; there is value to your life and body. To the dominant: why do you feel the need to beat the one you supposedly care about and even love? The answer should not be to glorify this abusive act, but to seek professional help to be able to deal with internal issues that might cause someone to justify this abuse.
I truly love everyone who may read these words. I wish the very best for you, and I want you to know that trans activism is harmful to women. Within trans activism there is a deep hatred for women, which is expressed through the promotion of pornography, prostitution, BDSM and other sexual acts that glorify the objectification of women. If you stand up to their misogyny and abuse of women then they will target you with harassment and doxxing.
To transwomen: you might feel like this is a wonderful community, but they only accept you if you heed to their ideology. The moment you begin to challenge their dogma, then the very same lifestyle that they promoted is what they’ll use against you. In their mind, it is all about agency; the sex industry is always a choice, which enables them to blame the victim. Your life will be better if you leave them and become a part of a community that will value you for the beautiful person that you are.