Hi, best friend!

It may come as a shock that I address you as such, as we did not know each other before this morning, when you tromped onto my Facebook page and wrote an unsolicited four hundred-word screed that changed my life. Your unasked-for opinions have really made a difference, because you succeeded where so many others have failed: you convinced me not to be transgender anymore.

I admit, I was resistant to your assistance at first. I’d posted an article about Caitlyn Jenner’s planned attendance of Donald Trump’s presidential inauguration, expressing my disappointment at her continued allegiance to a political party which has done irreparable harm to trans people around the country. The post was public, but I assumed only my existing friends would comment; after all, why would a total stranger come onto a trans woman’s wall and start talking about how “there’s no such thing as transgender” and that we were “disturbing”?

Lucky for me, you chose the road less traveled, and bravely eschewed all common decency and social mores in order to set me straight (literally). Although your syntax and grammar was frankly baffling — what did you mean when you said “I don’t do not believe Trump supports transgender”? — but your strong assertion that I “ain’t a woman” compelled me to respond: “Who the fuck are you?”

What followed was a revelation. Beginning by denying that “transphobic” was a word while repeatedly using “phobic” as a noun (are you what the kids call “alt-language”?), you systematically went through every anti-trans catchphrase ever invented! From “it’s a mental issue” to “I’m entitled to my opinion” (and my personal favorite, “you’re just confused”), no scrap of trans-exclusionary rhetoric was left un-brandished. You even made up a few new ones of your own! Again, the intent was a little muddled, but whatever “serious Cycle Therapy” is, sign me the heck up!

Still, I was unswayed — until I let your words sink in. When you said “this is not a lifestyle that I want for anyone,” you were just expressing your concern for me, a fellow human being who you had never met but knew you were qualified to judge! Just yesterday, I thought transitioning had made me happier both personally and professionally than I’d ever been in my life — but you showed me that actually, I wasn’t happy or productive! Just by asserting that trans people can’t be those things! Wow! I don’t know how you did it!

After your glorious diatribe blessed my brain, I went right out and threw away my remaining hormones and burned the beautiful, affirming dresses and skirts I’d accumulated over the past year and a half. As I stood by the fire in my driveway, wondering if I was violating the Fire Code, I almost balked; what if you were really just a creepy rando who had no right to define my identity? But then your words echoed in my ears, and I remembered that truly, “no one is a phobic.” Like the real women of the 1970s, I put my bras to the torch and danced.

So thank you, kind person who I never asked to talk to, for saving my life. Now that I understand that I’m just a very confused man with even more mental illnesses than I thought I had, everything is fine now! And to think — all it took was a total stranger to show up in my mentions and guide me back to the path of the cisgender angels.

All my love,

P.S. For real though, go fuck yourself.