How To Invalidate Your Own Vocation
Via Muldoon in the comments – and the pages of Psychology Today – the evaporating standards of “affirmative psychotherapy”:
Mental Health Professionals Can Help…
Validate Their Experiences – Your clients are not exaggerating. Listen without pathologising. Validate without hesitation.
Affirm in Every Interaction – Use the correct name and pronouns like it’s second nature. Audit your forms, website, and policies to make sure they reflect that commitment.
Sharp-eyed readers may have registered the seeming absence of curiosity, of enquiry – say, regarding very common causes of the phenomenon in question. Readers may also wish to ponder the inevitable tensions between affirmation and investigation – and to place bets on which will be dispensed with in favour of the other. In this Yes, You Are Napoleon school of psychotherapy, where the unwell must always be told whatever they want to hear. Possibly before being steered towards irreversible mutilation and lifelong pain.
Readers may also wish to ponder how a similarly affirming approach might fare with other mental health issues – such as anorexia, with alarmingly cadaverous young women being told, “Yes, dear, you are every bit as fat as you imagine and should definitely continue starving yourself.”
A consequence of all this affirmation and declared solidarity is a hasty jumping to conclusions. A begging of questions. For instance:
The author of the above, Tess Kilwein – PhD, pronouns “she/they” – would have us believe, and would have her patients believe, that the most pressing and fundamental causes of woe are “bias,” “microaggressions,” and “anti-trans bills” – among which, laws that restrict women’s changing rooms and other intimate spaces to use by actual women, rather than delusional and/or predatory men.
And yet, a person with sexual dysmorphia – someone vehemently alienated from the physical reality of their sex – would presumably still feel that way even if stranded on a desert island. Just as they do now, when alone – say, in the shower or when making tiresome TikTok videos. Seems to me it ain’t the world that’s causing the problem.
This willingness to pretend – and to then applaud oneself as righteous and heroic – is, I’d suggest, a less than ideal tendency for a mental health professional. Someone to whom a person’s wellbeing, or hope of wellbeing, has been entrusted. Likewise, the rush to externalise all causes of misery. While social interaction – knowing that other people are likely to perceive you as you actually are, not as whatever it is you wish you were – may amplify the existing dissonance, such interaction doesn’t cause it. It isn’t the root of the problem.
That’s an, as they say, you thing.
In this supposedly therapeutic context, the words affirmation and validation translate as a willingness to lie. A willingness to indulge obvious bollocks and play along. And so, one might wonder how Dr Kilwein might affirm and validate some of the chaps seen here. Or this merry bedlamite, who violates women’s toilets and pushes his phone camera under the doors of occupied stalls in order to livestream to his admirers, all those affirming fans, the protests of his latest victim.
But, says Dr Kilwein, we must “validate without hesitation.” Because this practised, habitual dishonesty is, she says, “justice” and “courage.” And therefore, a basis for in-group status. At which point, the nakedly partisan activism of such people – and the abandonment of anything approaching detachment and objectivity – even basic curiosity – appears jarringly at odds with any claims of professionalism.
We are, however, assured that Dr Kilwein is a proponent of “bold storytelling.” Which is just what a patient needs when their perceptions of reality are wildly unreliable.
No woman I know has ever expressed to me any doubts as to the reality of her womanhood. Likewise, I’m baffled by the notion of being unsure about the reality of my maleness. The question, the assumption of doubt, seems alien. I don’t seem to have a mental box into which that would fit.
Ruh-roh.
Remember when, in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Luna Free State carries out a space bombardment of the United Nations? It sounds better and better with each passing year.
Oh, I’ve known a couple of FTM dysphorics. They were quite, quite sure they were men and not women.
Of course they’d both suffered horrific sexual abuse as children through adolescence, so that may have had something to do with it.
I just did a factory reset on my Galaxy, and yeah, I saw that thing. Not happy.
In other news, Wayne Burkett, who gave up TwiXer for Lent, is back, and he liked a tweet of mine. (Admittedly, I don’t know if he has an auto-liker app hooked into his account.)
Let the lady through. Don’t crowd.
Problem: Ruh-roh.
Solution.
As an avid user of CyanogenMod from the very beginning, I will say this: many hardware features on recent smartphones rely on closed-source drivers the LineageOS can’t bundle. So your camera, fingerprint reader, WiFi 6, etc. are likely to work poorly or not at all.
In other words, venison is a two person job, and the one with the cheaper, already battered car goes in front.
He did it again.
It’s a “like my responders” bot. Gotta be.
It seems to be an extreme discomfort with one’s sexed body, wherein the reality is real enough, but you hate it. Looking at one’s dangly bits (wherever they’re located) and feeling anxiety about them. Wanting to crawl out of one’s skin because ick.
But it’s a huge leap from “I feel tremendous angst over the sex of my body” to “I possess the brain of the opposite sex.”
There must be multiple reasons why one would feel terribly estranged, sexual abuse being at the top of the list, but other kinds of abuse, too. Such as being a slightly effeminate boy with a Cluster B mother who hates males, so she dresses you up as a girl so you won’t be one of those icky boys. Or one of those icky gay boys.
There’s extreme debasing of boys to the point they develop a fetish for debasement, and since women are base and disgusting, they desire to be debased because it turns them on.
Also, pr0n.
Or serve it medium rare if you’re eating the tenderloin, striploin or rib steak. There’s also a significant difference between wild venison and farmed venison. One of the best pieces of meat I ever had was farm raised elk (wapiti). It was served just above rare with an incredible lingonberry sauce. I had it at the Carriage House in Burlington. Based on where you live I’m sure you know the restaurant.
We’re friends of the Paletta’s, the food people in Burlington, and he sourced some very high grade Bison ribeye steaks that we served at a dinner party at our place. It’s a very lean meat but if cooked and seasoned right, it’s delicious.
He’s got a point.
This chap laments the loss of the term “woman”.
Given that current policy, created by liberals, is to help druggies continue to use drugs, commit crimes, spread filth, destroy neighborhoods, well….
Bookmark. His name is Hash and he’s the sweetest little pitty. And he just told you a joke and is waiting to see if you get it . . .
No woman I know has ever expressed to me any doubts as to the reality of her womanhood.
Maybe that’s because some of us never worried about the definition. Are you a girly girl? Are you more masculine? Meh. I yam who I yam, a woman.
“But real women don’t . . .”
Stop right there. Real women DO. Behavior does not define what is a woman, biology does. Being transgender is simply play acting. But they’re peeved that the rest of us are not following their script.
Noteworthy change of pitch.
In the sense of blind squirrels and nuts. But not even that. That guy is the problem. He knows his “solution” will never be implemented, nor even taken seriously coming from him and his big stupid hat. He’s trolling.
If you scroll back a few and watch what she initially was addressing, it’s more interesting. This mayor, and his big stupid hat, was addressing the issue of how this town in wherever, would be spending $18 million on “art”. He made the usual airy-fairy how-can-anyone-oppose-art comments and asked if anyone objected. This woman…spoke up. She was then invited to speak (she had not filled out any forms asking to speak) and she asked the bloody obvious question of, if they’re going to spend $18 million on art, wtf does it all have to be so ugly. In that context, I think she had a point on the homeless thing as well. She is a serious person. Mayor In A Big Stupid Hat, not so much.
Well, yes.
Still, it’s a solution I can support. Corpse wagons are cheaper than bureaucratised compassion.
I wonder who he is “really” getting to know? Or if he is deliberately missing the point of these conversations?
John/Jo Clifford, an MtF notable for bravely writing a play depicting the key figure of one of the Abrahamic religions (guess which) as an MtF.
The bait and switch here is obviously the distinction between sex and gender, a distinction which his lot normally can’t stop insisting on, but here he’s hoping we don’t notice that one thing isn’t the same as the other thing. It’s very condescending.
And people who are challenged by gender roles don’t get support from society or the law in their hopes, delusions, expectations of affirmation. A weak man who tries too hard to be tough, or a plain woman who tries too hard to be pretty – they make themselves ridiculous and they’re ridiculed, and they don’t get to report the incident to the police for their “peace of mind” as Clifford gets to do when people are unconvinced by his womanly pose.