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I realised something this afternoon, in talking with a friend.

I have reached my limit of cis people telling me how to be trans. Or not to be trans. Or choosing what we're called. Or really having any kind of control over our lives at all, for any reason. I don't care if they're professional sexologists, or transvestigators, or whatever they're going to call cis people who colonise our space academically. Or doctors, or politicians, or anyone else, ever.

I'm done. Cis people, there's a bunch of ya I love, but I swear, the next cis person who tells me how to do trans is probably going to soon regret it, when the sharp side of my tongue has finished tearing them various new orifices, metaphorically speaking.

We get to choose what we call ourselves. Be it trans, nonbinary, hijra, two-spirit, travesti, ladyboy (kathoey), whatever someone identifies as. If they feel they have a claim on that label, it's no one else's place to tell them they haven't. Least of all cis people.

Magneto was right.