An open letter from the matriarchy

To be sure, I am addressing the collective manifest feminine.

I have heard many things that appear to represent the feminine consensus, 

But I would ask a few questions, for clarity's sake.  

What the fuck was that bit at the beginning all about?  I mean, somewhere, below the subconscious, in the actual basic stuff of my physical form, my cellular memory holds a reactive tendency.  I feel like I may be predisposed to trauma responses.  What other purpose could there be for mutilating newborn infants?  

Consider the process as it happened.  For about nine months you safely carried me as a part of your own body.  I've heard that you've been campaigning for the right to the sanctity of your body.  Is it my gender that removes that sanctity when we separated?  Like the doctor removed a piece of my gender?  Am I somehow more odious when I can appreciate sex naturally, when my nervous system is whole.  Is there some extra sensory awareness to be feared in that nerve cluster?  Is there something inherent about the feminine that I cannot detect without that bit of flesh?  Is that some twisted part of the feminine mystique, that a mystique implies unknown elements...do you have something to hide?  

But this horse paste won't make itself, I must continue.  

It seems significant to me.  That momentary betrayal.  

That first precious impression of a world of pain & restraint.  

Before I knew guilt, or acceptance.  

Reinforcing my fight or flight pathways, my reactivity, my hyper vigilant awareness; may have served humanities past.

But if you get the right to genital integrity and healthcare, can I at least not get attacked thusly at such a tender age.  I'm speaking from the lap here.  It knows.  Even if the memory doesn't or didn't have a conscious mind to receive it, it's part of my history.  I have scars.  Things don't fit right because they've been clipped.  When I get to puberty, each erection will tug at those scars uncomfortably, but I won't complain about it because, by then I will know that boys aren't supposed to complain unless its life-threatening.  When I try to think about what's happening to me, I get closer to an embedded sense of violation and loss, of monstrous restraint.  I may just act out when that starts happening.  Acting out of a blind sense of injustice stumbling around looking for a target, a way to feel like I am in control.  But boys will be boys, eh?  

It has been made clear to me that boys are made of unpleasantness and reactivity.  Snips and snails and all that.  Is it possible that might be an artificial overgeneraliztion that addresses this peculiar modification's side effects?

I have a lot more to talk about, but I would like to give you a chance to respond.  

And so I take pause.