Kimberly Steele

Around the year 2006, I wrote my first novel, Forever Fifteen about a young, fifteen year old looking vampire who was a reluctant but prolific serial killer. The novel featured a side story about a cross-dressing man who was railroaded and driven to suicide by a nosy, outwardly normal neighbor. Back then, I had a great deal more sympathy for cross-dressers, transvestites, and what is now called transgender people. I considered them a persecuted class of mainly closeted gay men.

My empathy screeched to a halt once militant trans “allies” took over school classrooms and public libraries. A carnival of freaks shamed regular people for calling a pedophile a pedophile. Drag queens exposed their junk in front of kids. Various pornographic books popped up in school libraries that read like The Joy of Sex (ages 3 and up). Target turned its store into a pride display, complete with chest binders and tuck underwear for customers training to amputate/invert their private parts. Facebook and pre-Elon Musk Twitter censored anyone who wasn’t on board. To this day, I still see people broadcasting their preferred pronouns on social media and referring to an individual as “they”. I personally will not refer to a single person as “they”. “They” is a term for more than one person. Using it for an individual is an open acknowledgement of multiple personality disorder. Just as I would not play into the delusions of a person with severe schizophrenia, I will not use the term “they” to refer to an individual.
 

The trans movement might have survived had it contained its entitlement and kept its vibe on the side of chill. Trans is a movement that did extremely well when it was underground. Trans was cool when it was actually subversive a la Rocky Horror, K.D. Lang, Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Trans grave mistake was getting in bed with Big Pharma and Big Insurance to the point where schools and entire state governments were pushing permanent gender-motivated mutilation on prepubescent children. Trans immolated itself in the fires of self-invited public scrutiny. Yes, there was money in it, and many in the trans movement took the bait, becoming monsters in the process.
 

Etheric bodies matter: polarity and sex

The missing link in the trans dialogue this entire time has been a discussion of the subtle bodies and why their arrangement might drive someone to want to swap genders. In my article about masturbation and the subtle bodies, I explain how males have female etheric (energy) bodies and how females have male etheric (energy) bodies. Anton LaVey bludgeons through the male/female body arrangement concept in his book The Satanic Witch, but it takes a deep dive through the works of John Michael Greer, Dion Fortune, and Max Heindel to get any purchase on why we are made in such funny ways.

When a woman is extremely male on the etheric, she will be physically underwhelming and diminutive. She will be extremely sensitive to vibes. She will have a propensity to engage in behaviors that regulate and enhance the etheric plane to which she is so sensitive, such as the beauty trade, cooking, cleaning, decorating, making music, decorating, and healing.
 

When a man is extremely female on the etheric, he will dominate on the physical plane. On the energy plane, he will easily attract romantic attention as if he was casting an invisible net. He will likely be inept at making things pretty and will be far more likely to need healing power than to be able to give it out of himself.
 

In brief, we all embody our own polar opposite on the etheric plane. In my own case, I am a shrimpy little woman with a huge etheric package. I often overwhelm with my etheric force and people who aren’t used to it can be easily taken aback or frightened by it. Little women with gigantic personalities are often packing on the etheric. If you know the gentle giant stereotype such as the fireman who rescues kittens from burning buildings, you also know that certain combinations are violently attractive.
 

Trans is a tragedy because it erases polarity. Lopping off body parts and screwing with hormones maims the physical body in ways that create horrific, chronic conditions where none existed. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” should be the second line of the Hippocratic Oath, and trans procedures and drugs ignore everything Hippocrates ever uttered about medicine. I may be the etheric equivalent of a lumberjack but it doesn’t mean that I am the girliest girl who ever girled on the physical plane. I have a masculine jaw and I can leg press 230 pounds. Also, sometimes I like boy things and think exactly like a man despite being very much a woman. Non-gay boys might play with Barbie just as non-gay girls might play with GI Joe. Sexuality is a spectrum and it is not static. We all go through our tomboy eras and our girlie girl eras. Most of us have been attracted to the same sex at some point in our lives, whether we admit it or not. We don’t have to choose a side. The same people who like to blur the lines between gender seem to think they can have it both ways. When a man makes femininity into a minstrel show via drag, he is deliberately exploiting the polarity of hyper-feminine women. Drag queens don’t dress up as Amy Schumer — they dress up as Marilyn Monroe.
 

In this age of overpopulation, it is highly likely that some people with body dysmorphia were reincarnated too fast and have trauma and confusion left over from their past lives. This was certainly true of me. I believe I was female in my most recent past life. I was born as Kimberly in 1973 and the lifetime before that was Vera who was born in the 1890s. Typically one is not born female twice in a row, and usually the reincarnation process switches sexes each time. I did not have trauma about my gender but I had it about plenty of other things as a young person, and it was not my upbringing or circumstances as Kimberly that caused it. Much of my youthful distress arose because I was reincarnated a scanty four years after Vera died. This was not sufficient time to process all that happened when I was Vera.
 

Nowadays, people are reincarnated so fast that it is often only a matter of months between lives. If you were a petite woman in your most recent life, it is not going to be easy to be a six foot four guy in your following life. Things will be different, to say the least. My spirit guides have hinted that I will be a gay man in my next life, and I can see that because I have more than a tinge of gay male flair in this one.

The thrill is gone

Medicine jumped the shark over a hundred years ago, where healing and its practical knowledge was jettisoned for wonder drugs and fad diets. Medicine is a desperate game of musical chairs in a burning building. Its latest attempt to cannibalize what is left of the economy is convincing kids to turn themselves into eunuchs in need of constant surgeries and drugs. Just as Big Tobacco realized it needed to get kids hooked in order to sell cigarettes, Big Pharma understood its cash cow was in 12 year old Roblox addicts with garden variety adolescent body dysmorphia and divorcing parents.
 

I hope I have made it clear there is no way of switching sex. If a male tries to become female (to my mind, he will never succeed because chromosomes are chromosomes), he will have the same etheric body arrangement. The etheric body will act as if the amputations never happened, just as the etheric bodies of amputees create mockups in the form of phantom limbs. A male-to-female transperson will always have a phantom penis and a female-to-male transperson will suffer phantom breasts.
 

Another problem with trans treatments is their utter brutality. Trans procedures are castration. Genital mutilation is another fitting term. Just as we wince when we hear of Somali girls having their labia and clitorises cut off by well-meaning aunts on kitchen tables (this is what happened to Ayaan Hirsi Ali when she was a few years out of diapers) we should shudder when surgeons flay the skin off a girl’s or woman’s arm to make a frankenpenis or transfer a chunk of a boy’s or man’s colon to his taint in order to fashion an ersatz vaginal canal. Said canal will always act energetically as if it is still a route to the anus, oozing waste fluid and requiring “dilation” with various dildos in order to remain open. I wish I was kidding.

The role of hormones in shaping personality and expressing the human soul is barely understood by anyone, so I don’t know why anyone would trust the most retarded quotient of our civilization to dictate permanent decisions about what should be done with them. Doctors have not been healers for a while now and it is clear they have no understand of the etheric plane, despite the inconvenient truth that all healing emanates from the etheric plane.
 

I hope now that Woke is beginning its death throes that we can collectively assess trans surgeries and procedures for the horror they have always been. Gay used to be a hell of a lot more fun. There were no young adults with painful, mutilated frankenvaginas, surgically-induced menopause, and lifelong hormone and pain pill habits in its wake.