I recently had an hour long phone conversation with a mother whose daughter went through a horrible tranny-related experience involving Foundry BC. I hadn’t heard of this place before, and I figured they deserved their own series of articles.
You’ll see the above when you visit their website, and they’re exactly what you’d expect.
Foundry offers young people ages 12-24 health and wellness resources, services, and supports – online and through integrated service centres in communities across BC.
Ages 12-24 is basically the golden years as far as homosexual pederasts are concerned. And Foundry isn’t hiding their promotion of pervertism to pre-teens, as their page on “Gender and Sexual Identity,” will show you.
I’ll write about that in a separate piece, but today we want to focus on Jay’s story.
One sees themselves differently than everyone else around them. Look into your mirror. What do you see? Are you smiling? Are you proud? Are you happy? In Jay’s experience, mirrors have been the element of change that made them realize who they were and who they are destined to become.
I’ve never considered myself much of a writer. This is something I do to for political purposes. I’m in no danger of winning a Pulitzer, and wouldn’t be even if that wasn’t a totally politicized award. But having said that, you couldn’t catch me dead having written the sort of melodramatic pretend-deep ramblings that I often encounter in the pervert-community.
Every morning I wake up, take my meds and vitamins, go to the washroom, and then look in the mirror. I usually never linger or stare, but when I do, I take a moment to really look at myself and acknowledge that my body is different. I know I’m fat and I’m okay with it. I am in a place where I can be fully transparent, authentic, and unapologetic. It wasn’t always like this, though.
We’re here, we’re queer, and we’re ready to eat away the cisheteronormative straight
White white male patriarchy. Jay is 22 years old, and he’s as fine with having type 2 diabetes as he is with a prolapsed anus. He probably shouldn’t be fine with either, but Jay’s Story is being used to help groom a bunch of impressionable children, so we’ll just not be mentioning that.
Since I was a kid, I faced adversity throughout my life. Being raised in a conservative, Catholic, Asian household, I had the obligation to live up to the unachievable and unrealistic expectations of my family. I made it my mission as such a young child to be a dedicated student, a reliable son, and a loving brother. Being a selfless and empathetic person, it was difficult to prioritize myself and put myself ﬁrst. I always put others before myself. This was the beginning of a challenging journey to ﬁnd validation and acceptance, not only from others but from myself.
Jay appears to be heroically recounting his journey to becoming a selfish prick who disappoints his family in every way possible. This is reframed as a courageous struggle against his own id, where he had to overcome that nagging voice in the back of his head that told him that maybe he shouldn’t be a fat faggot “Filipinx,” and should instead make an effort. With dauntless intestinal fortitude, he’s now shut that voice of entirely. Jay lives for Jay, and he’s going to slaughter that box of donuts just like he slaughters the Genderqueer Critical White Supremacist Society that xir lives in.
Steam fogs the mirror
In my late teen years, I would have trouble sleeping because I was thinking about how I was going to be happy in the future. Long nights and tear-soaked pillows characterized this time of my life, with no hope for the future. Negative thoughts, emotions, and assumptions were the steam that fogged up my life. Constant narratives ﬁlled my thoughts like, “how could someone ever see me for anything more than my fatness?” or “I will never have a normal life because everything about me is different”. There were so many questions that I had. Who would ever understand? Where am I going in life? When will I stop crying? Why am I so lost? And this was just the beginning of my journey to self-love.
Guys I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Jay may not have been in the best mental state. Perhaps he should be as far removed from the Groomers as possible. Also, perhaps Jay should lose some weight. I know that sounds harsh, but he’s literally crying himself to sleep every night, so it’s worth a shot.
A distorted funhouse mirror
Funhouse mirrors are a carnival crowd favourite. They make your body twist and turn to make it unrecognizable from its original form. My bathroom mirror had the same illusion, but it wasn’t as fun. I felt confused looking into my mirror and as a non-binary person, I felt like I never understood what my body should look like or what parts ﬁt and what didn’t. I struggled to ﬁght what was masculine and feminine about my body. What didn’t help was the culture I was brought up in, because my culture didn’t challenge toxic norms but enforced them. I identify as a plus-size, Queer, Gay, Non-binary, Filipinx-Canadian, which doesn’t align with traditional roles in Filipino culture.
I’m shocked to hear that plus-sized, queer, gay, non-binary Canadians don’t have a place in the historic Filipino culture. I’m think we might need a citation on that one, it’s just too unbelievable.
Battling these norms was one of the hardest battles I have had to ﬁght. It started as a child when I was told to put down my second plate of food or listen to an unsolicited comment from a relative about my body. Fat shaming, toxic masculinity, gender norms, and so much more are rooted in my culture. I have found that speaking with my brother and some other relatives helped in ways I couldn’t imagine before reaching out. Gradually, my family is making their way to understanding me, but in the end, I am just glad I can be there for myself.
Was it really so hard to put down the second plate of food, Jay? I’ve always been kinder to the fatties than pretty much anyone else in our thing, but come on. His relatives weren’t asking him to starve. They were asking him to eat his plate and then do nothing. But doing nothing was impossible to Jay, and the problem is just that Fat Shaming Cisheteronormativity has been keeping him down.
Cracks in the glass
A mirror only needs a few cracks to shatter. I was the biggest-sized person in my family and in my friend group. This realization created cracks in the idea that I could ever truly be loved. I searched for love in all the wrong places. From malicious men who made false promises to vices that took away temporary pain, my mirror was on the brink of shattering. Unattainable and unrealistic body standards on social media, dating apps with shallow minds, and the constant T.V. show trope of the “fat best friend” seemed to relentlessly tap on the glass that was cracked in every corner. I wanted to break free. For so many years I could not recognize my own reflection and couldn’t look into my own eyes without shedding a tear.
Did he… did he just admit to being groomed? I don’t know how else to interpret “malicious men who made false promises.” That reads to me as some pervert groomed him when he was a teenager. Then there’s some implied drug use, although it’s not explicit. Seems like maybe Jay should be angrier at the pervert-drug-industrial complex than his relatives who told him to put the second plate down.
Also, there are indeed unrealistic body standards on social media, achievable only through steroid use. That doesn’t mean you can’t be a healthy size Jay. Those two things are not incompatible.
The glass finally shatters
I am not perfect and will never be perfect. We are meant to evolve as that is how we grow. It is up to us to gently take our pieces and acknowledge our pain. I look at my pieces and am reminded of the battles I have fought to get to where I am today. My world needed to shatter for me to create a mosaic so powerful, unique, authentic, and free.
As long as your new image of yourself doesn’t include “good writer,” I guess I’m fine with it. Although I’m sure your relatives are still peeved that their family member turned out to be an annoying biological failure.
I struggle to see myself in the world that I live in today but I hope through my story I can be an example to others. I encourage others to take up space and not be the slightest bit apologetic because we are all a snack and a half.
Are we though, Jay? I certainly hope I’m not a snack and a half in Jay’s presence, or I’m at serious risk of cannibalism. Then again, I wouldn’t be the first man to end up in his bowels.
Jay Legaspi (he/she/they) is a 22 y/o Fat, Queer, Gay, Non-Binary, Filipinx-Canadian born and raised on the unceded territories of the Semiahmoo, Kwantlen and Katzie First Nations A.K.A. Surrey, BC, Canada.
Wait a minute, let’s take a closer look at those pronouns again.
Jay Legaspi (he/she/they)
So his pronouns are he AND she AND they. Okay this is a mentally stable individual we’re dealing with.
If you really knew Jay, you’d know that they are very passionate about music, drag, charcuterie boards, and most of all, mental health advocacy.
Well she certainly needs it, doesn’t she? Also, funny how the propagandist goes with “they,” instead of “she.” Jay explicitly said that his pronouns are she, but whomever wrote this blurb thought that was a bridge too far, even for them. So that’s how we end up with they.
Within the past few years, Jay has cultivated an understanding of what barriers and adversity they face and what needs to be done to break them down. Jay’s aspirations in life are to continue to break stereotypical norms, advocate and encourage Equity, Diversity & Inclusion, and lastly to be beautiful, authentic, and unapologetically themself in everything that they do and with everything that they are.
Well good for him. We can see her being authentically themself as he sits on a log and gently reclines his back, comfortable in their fatness, as a woman. This is what Foundry BC is promoting to children aged 12 and up.