This is interesting to me; can you elaborate?
About a year after my mother died, my little sister at the time(she was 6) was basically kidnapped by her real father. She was separated from her two full-blooded siblings and her two half-siblings for a duration of seven years without contact or cognizance of where she was. During this time, the young girlfriend of her father tried to erase any memory of her former family. She was told lies about who we were and accusations were made against myself that I had sexually abused her. She was a toddler and I had stuck a baseball card between her butt cheeks as she walked around. It's not as graphic as it sounds, I wasn't jamming it in there or approaching her private parts. It was possible because she had a chubby butt. My little sister and brother were present and we all thought it was funny. There was nothing sexual about it(I didn't think that way back then) and it was done for a laugh. It might sound weird, but it was a one-off joke shared between siblings, none of us older than ten. It didn't last more than a few moments and I never thought of it as a violation. Anyhow, it was told to her that she was sexually abused. This combined with years of manipulation at the hand of her father's girlfriend left her very much confused about her identity. She had memories of her family of course, and they were good memories. She was the baby of the family and we all had adored her. Fast forward seven years and her father finally gets the courage to be a human being. He comes back into the picture with my sister and we finally get to meet her after all those years. Her dad is a wreck, so my older sister takes her in at the age of 13. This is where I got to know my sister as a woman. I saw her go from geeky 13-year-old with glasses to a HS senior tanning in the lawn in a bikini, going to the prom in a dress, and sneaking out at night to go hang out with boys. I saw her enter her first relationship, at the time, a heterosexual one. It lasted for a couple of years and they had even lived together for almost the duration. She was always a very timid person, but one with excessive amounts of compassion. The thought of her lashing out at anyone for any reason was a fantasy. So her relationship ends and during this time her ex-boyfriend's mother gets divorced from the father and enters a lesbian relationship. My sister had thought it was very strange and gave no sign that she empathized with it. I move away for a few years, I come back to Portland and she's announced that she's a lesbian. The crowd she hangs out with is nothing like the crowd she hung out with in HS. She had begun seeing a feminist psychologist and going to feminist support groups during this time period and had entered into a few somewhat serious relationships with women. Her circle of friends were of a certain political bent, one might call them extreme feminists, the kind who don't associate with men. The kind who men don't find attractive because they go out of their way not to look feminine, ironically. After a few years of dating women, seeing the psychologist, and hanging in a social circle-jerk, she meets and enters into a relationship with a transman. Suddenly, she's now a transman too. There's a dissonance between who she was, and what he became. Right in the middle was a very vulnerable person with a history of identity traumas. The person I see now is unlike any man I've ever met. The compassion and timidness is the same. Pretty much everything is the same, except his extreme SOCJUS activism that is present, and where now exists a fairly feminine looking man without muscles. From my vantage point, it's fairly obvious she fell into a crowd. Her extreme compassion lined up with those who most like to profit off the victim narrative. She fell right in and was twisted, shaped, and formed into something else.
