I’ll be the first to say that superficial comments and judgments about someone’s physical appearance are not cool. But to label bald jokes a form of sexual harassment? Seems a bit extreme.

Apparently, the High Court thinks otherwise. 

This whole lengthy case started back in 2019 when an electrician named Tony Finn accused his boss of sexual harassment. Allegedly, Finn’s boss at the British Bung Company had referred to him as a “stupid bald cunt.”

Maybe this is my American sensibilities, but I’m thinking maybe the C-word is more of an issue here—but I digress.

According to the panel of judges, led by Judge Jonathan Brain, the term “bald” is “inherently related to gender,” so using it against a man could breach equality laws. In other words, “bald” is a sexist insult.

The three-person panel also stated that the remark “crossed a line” and there is “a connection between the word ‘bald’ and the protected characteristic of sex.” 

According to The Telegraph, the panel consisted of three bald men. 

“[Baldness] is much more prevalent in men than women,” they said. (K, well, tell that to the PCOS community.)

Now, according to The Sun, the full judgment made at the Employment Appeals Tribunal has finally been published—four years after the initial comments against Finn. The electrician will likely receive compensation for the alleged sexual harassment.

As expected, this case is gaining major traction on social media, with many users expressing their disbelief over the ruling.

“This is silly,” one person wrote. “We should all strive to be better people and to be more understanding and supportive with those who are missing something. But it seems silly to waste the court’s time with things so small.”

Most others labeled the notion as nonsense. 

However, one person posed a different perspective: “I think it’s a bit extreme, but I can see the precedent. If people cannot joke about something a woman cannot control, then why should they be able to joke about something a man cannot control?”

Shrugs.

The post Calling a Man ‘Bald’ Can Be Sexual Harassment, High Court Declares appeared first on VICE.

Campbell was hired as an assistant coach by the organization in July, and from that point forward, Oct. 8 was always a date circled on the calendar for the milestone-breaking moment. 

“It fuels me every day just knowing that I’m a part of something way bigger than myself and my job and coaching,” she said. To NHL.com, she added: “The year ahead is going to be a lot of fun. To carry that torch every day and keep my focus on being a coach, it definitely puts meaning into the work.”

What is Jessica Campbell’s Background?

Campbell was a renowned hockey player before joining the Kraken as an assistant coach. She starred at Cornell University, where she was a team captain and hit the 100-point mark for the University. 

She turned pro and spent time with the Calgary Inferno before playing internationally in Sweden. 

After her playing days, she was a trailblazer in the American Hockey League as the first female coach with the Kraken’s minor league team, the Coachella Valley Firebuds. She was there from 2022 to 2024 before moving to the NHL. 

How Many Women Coach in other leagues?

While Campbell broke down the walls at the NHL level, the other three major leagues (NFL, MLB, NBA) have already done so. 

At the start of the 2024 season, 15 women held full-time coaching positions in the NFL.

In 2023, MLB had 43 women coaching. 

Becky Hammon was the first woman to serve as an acting head coach, with the San Antonio Spurs in 2020. There are currently six active female assistant coaches in the NBA. 

The post Jessica Campbell Is the First Woman to Coach an NHL Team appeared first on VICE.

The Trevor Project surveyed more than 61,000 trans and nonbinary people between the ages of 13 and 24. The study looked at participant’s mental health between 2018 to 2022, a time during which many anti-trans laws were enacted.

The laws, 48 of which were put into place amid the study, encompass many issues. Among those are limiting access to gender-affirming medical care or bathrooms. Other laws prohibit transgender and nonbinary youth from participating in school activities that match their gender identity.

The study found that, in the 19 states with such laws, suicide attempts among those impacted greatly increased. Those younger than 18 had the highest increase—by as much as 72 percent—in suicide attempt rates. Meanwhile, across the full sample, an increase in suicide attempt rates of 38 to 44 percent was observed.

“It is without question that anti-transgender policies, and the dangerous rhetoric surrounding them, take a measurable toll on the health and safety of transgender and nonbinary young people all across the country,” Jaymes Black, The Trevor Project CEO, said.

“As we get closer to critical elections this November, these young people will continue to be reduced to political talking points. I urge every adult—no matter your political beliefs—to remember that transgender and nonbinary young people are our family, our friends, and our neighbors. It’s not necessary to fully understand their experience to acknowledge that they—like all young people—deserve dignity, respect, and the ability to lead healthy and full lives.”

Ronita Nath, Vice President of Research at The Trevor Project, also addressed the study’s findings in a statement.

“This groundbreaking study offers robust and indisputable evidence to support what we have already known: the recent wave of anti-transgender laws in the United States is quite literally risking the lives of young people across the country,” she said. “.This study critically confirms – for the first time – a causal relationship between anti-transgender laws and heightened suicide risk among transgender and nonbinary young people.”

If you or someone you know needs help or support, The Trevor Project’s trained crisis counselors are available 24/7 at 1-866-488-7386, via chat at TheTrevorProject.org/Get-Help, or by texting START to 678678.

The post Trans Suicide Attempts Skyrocket in States with Anti-LGBTQ Laws appeared first on VICE.

The settlement agreement will become effective only after approval by the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia.

“I am extremely pleased that this settlement will bring a measure of justice to the women who were unfairly dismissed,” Paula Bird, a plaintiff in the case, said. “Also, I hope that through this settlement the FBI will implement changes that will give women going through agent training in the future a fair shot at their dream career.”

Christine Webber, a lawyer representing the plaintiffs, added, “Through [the women’s] determination and leadership, and what we believe is a genuine desire by the FBI to turn the page on the past history of discrimination in new agent training, the parties have reached a settlement agreement that will provide a measure of relief for what these women experienced.”

The lawsuit was first brought in 2019. In the filing, the women claimed that, due to “gender stereotypes and a culture of sexism,” instructors acted in a discriminatory manner.

The higher-ups allegedly did so by disciplining women and dismissing them from the academy more frequently and for more minor infractions than their male counterparts. Additionally, instructors allegedly singled out women in tactical exercises, because they viewed them as “weak, prone to failure, or not intuitively understanding law enforcement tactics.”

The lawsuit also alleged that some women faced “persistent, graphic, and invasive gender-based and sexual comments” while at the academy. One woman claimed she was told to “smile more.” Another woman alleged that she was told that women need to take birth control to control their moods. A third woman claimed that she was instructed to wear short-shorts and pigtails while doing a mock undercover assignment.

Instructors, the lawsuit additionally claimed, also sought out “derogatory information” about female trainees in order to discipline them.

The FBI has not publicly commented on the lawsuit. However, in 2022, the U.S. Department of Justice Office of the Inspector General evaluated the policies and practices, trends, and patterns for male and female trainees, as well as perceptions of gender equity, at the FBI Academy. According to its subsequent report, the department found that women were dismissed at higher rates than men and identified concerns in the disparity of treatment towards women.

The post Women to Win $22.6M Settlement in FBI Training Discrimination Case appeared first on VICE.

Delta recently released a memo outlining its “appearance requirements” for flight attendants, and some of the regulations are…well, a bit invasive. One of the most shocking requirements involves flight attendants’ underwear. 

According to the memo, “Proper undergarments must be worn but must not be visible.” I guess the issue was panty lines? 

The memo also lists requirements like having natural-looking hair and eyelashes, covering all tattoos (but not with a bandage), and, of course, wearing professional clothing. Oh, and if you chip your nail polish mid-flight, you might want to take care of that ASAP, as it’s also against Delta’s guidelines.

Despite the prevalence of harassment against flight attendants, this isn’t the first time airlines have imposed appearance-based rules on their staff, of course. For quite some time, the airline industry has had a reputation for being highly sexualized. Many airlines view their flight attendants as the faces of the airline, and flight attendants say they’re asked for far more than just professionalism when it comes to their looks. 

In an interview about the broader industry for VICE’s Informer series, one flight attendant spoke about having a “grooming manager” who would have to approve—or disapprove—parts of her appearance, such as her weight and skin.

“You have to look slender, slim,” she said. “Every two years, you’ll be issued the same uniform, the same size. You are expected to always be able to fit into that uniform.”

She added that your designated grooming manager will then pick apart your appearance and potentially ground you from flying just because of skin issues or weight gain. 

This type of treatment, of course, can be detrimental to the mental health of flight attendants. The person said many would take drugs or endure life-threatening surgeries just to appear thinner and avoid losing their jobs.

“I’ve seen a lot of flight attendants spiral. There’s a lot of suicide in the industry,” the former flight attendant said.

So, while Delta’s new underwear requirement might sound trivial at first glance, it’s an example of a much larger issue: the airline industry’s longstanding pattern of enforcing strict appearance standards on flight attendants, often at the cost of their well-being and dignity.

The post Delta Tells Flight Attendants: No Visible Panty Lines in the Sky appeared first on VICE.

That’s the question Melbourne-based photographer Marlo W contemplated when they first thought of the idea for their latest project. A trans person in their 20s, Marlo wondered what life would be like for them when they got older.

“I wondered who would be taking care of me, if I needed to be taken care of,” Marlo told VICE. “In terms of trans healthcare and acceptance, what would the world look like?”

For transgender people, it’s a question with a complicated answer. The shifts of just the last few years, across public education, awareness, culture and in the medical field have been stark, and while elderly Australians are an oft-forgotten group, older transgender Australians have lived through a constantly changing attitude towards their existence. Someone who is in their 50s today would have been born into an Australia where seeking gender affirming care was still a legal grey area.

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“At the moment, things are pretty good in Australia for trans people. But it’s also a bit rocky in terms of people’s perceptions in society. So that got me thinking, well, where are the older trans people now? I don’t know any personally, I don’t really have anyone older that understands the trans experience from a personal level who I can talk to.”

As they began a process of searching for older transgender people to meet, Marlo’s first book began to take shape. Foreground: Portraits of Older Transgender and Gender Diverse People includes both photography of and interviews with 18 older transgender and gender diverse people living in Melbourne.

“I thought, wouldn’t it be great if I could use my photographic practice to meet these people and interview them, to get to know about their lives and platform them?” Marlo said.

“I made these assumptions… they’ve probably been through tough times, where they were ostracised pretty badly in the past and not had as many opportunities as younger trans and gender diverse people have right now.”

“And I guess I just wanted to know if they were feeling accepted or not. But also how they felt about the broader climate for trans and gender diverse people, especially from an older person’s lens.”

Marlo’s tender portraits are supplemented with interviews with older trans people, asked about their journeys, their gender identities, what life was like when they were growing up, and their life achievements.

The participants are as diverse in age as they are in occupation, life experience and career.

Julie Peters, a 72-year-old PHD author and advocate, worked behind the scenes at the ABC for thirty years. She publicly came out at work in 1990, the ABC’s first employee to do so.

Peters told VICE while she did technically count as an older trans person, she doesn’t “particularly identify with trans”.

“As I often joke, I don’t like being in a book about being trans, but about being older… wow!” she said.

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“I grew up in the 1950s, the 60s were my school years, and basically what that meant was ‘trans’ wasn’t even mentioned. As a three or four year old, I just thought, Gee, my parents are dumb for not realising I’m supposed to be a girl.”

Peters said she wouldn’t have used any of the same language used today. She didn’t hear the word transsexual until she was in her early 20s.

“And gradually I learned more and more about it,” she said. “I just very consistently felt I fit better in the world as a girl, or a young woman, rather than as a boy.”

Mithra/Mithrani Mahadeva, who is dual gender, is an active member of the Frankston and Mornington LGBTQIA+ community group. They told VICE Marlo contacting them for the project was one of the best days of their life.

“I felt like finally, I can tell someone my story,” they said. “How I couldn’t acknowledge who I was, however strong it was. And to know that this younger person who is in the rainbow space cares enough to look at the bigger picture.”

While Mahadeva said their story was traumatic, they were thankful they could live as their true self now. Thinking back to how different it was for them to find their gender diverse identity when they were younger, as opposed to now, they said: “I feel sad, but I feel glad that I could say who I really am, that I got the safe space. I always call it my happy place.”

“I feel so good. I don’t feel isolated now.”

Doctor Wenn B Lawson, an author and senior researcher at Curtin University, is an advocate for autism awareness in the LGBTQI realm. He told VICE after coming out 11 years ago, aged 62, his family said they’d always known.

“I was never really in the gay scene,” he told VICE. “I was never really part of that world. So the stigma and awful things that have happened to people, either for being gay and then transitioning or being a bit different, being non binary – I didn’t really experience those things.”

“My family were like, ‘we always knew’, except for my mother, who has never accepted my sexuality or gender.”

Lawson said it took him longer to make the connection because of his autism diagnosis, but that he thought he’d transitioned “at the right time”.

“Transitioning many years ago would have been much harder,” he said. “There just weren’t the resources, there just wasn’t the understanding.”

“Not that understanding is everywhere these days, but there’s certainly more acceptance than ever.”

For Lawson, stories on the lives of older trans people were necessary, even to help or inspire others, if not to affect change.

“As an older population, it’s kind of assumed, if you’ve made it to 40 or 50 or 60, why would you want to transition? But it’s more for us about the timing in all those years before, there’s a lot of expectation, to be a partner, husband, wife, mother or father.”

He said in the past there was a lot of stigma, even from within the gay community.

“The gay community isn’t very accepting, generally, of trans people,” he said.

“And if you’re as autistic as I am, it’s even worse.”

Mahadeva agreed that lessons from older transgender people, and projects like Marlo’s, were necessary both for trans and young queer people.

“When young people come out to their families it can be traumatic, that’s why it’s important to have the perspectives of elders because they have been through that same trauma,” they said.

And even that trauma, and how different generations process it, has changed. For trans women of her generation, Peters said once you transitioned, the goal was to not be considered “trans” any more. You were a woman.

“They just wanted to disappear into society or in their new gender,” she said.

“Particularly in the 1970s, the dream was to transition and pass so well that nobody realised you were trans. Some of them, I don’t know why the hell they wanted to do this, but some of them wanted to become just suburban housewives, that was never for me.”

While cultural understanding of transgender people has broadened in Australia, being outed has historically been, and often still is, unsafe. In the 80s and 90s, while some doctor’s offices permitted gender affirming healthcare, trans people were frequently dissuaded from socialising with other trans people. They were instructed to disappear into their gender.

Peters said to a large extent, most trans women of her generation were culturally invisible.

“They’re not out about being trans, and most of them wouldn’t be in a book like this, because it’s outing them. And they don’t want to be outed,” said Peters.

“I know a trans woman who’s been in a relationship with a man for 20 years, and she still hasn’t told him that she’s trans.”

Peters said her work was in trying to “demythologize trans”.

“There’s a lot of bullshit out there about what trans is,” she said.

“What I think is interesting is, in the 90s, and particularly the 80s, the mainstream was very wary of trans. And some people on the edges were quite positive.

“Whereas today, the mainstream is fairly positive about trans, but it’s the edges, the far right and the far left, and the radical lesbians who are a very anti-trans, so it’s sort of swapped over, in that most normal people go what’s the big deal?”

Marlo said meeting and profiling community elders had been an inspiring experience. They said they hoped the stories could be a source of inspiration to others.

“These people mostly had pretty tough lives when they were younger,” they said. Whether that be moving from their country seeking safety, because they weren’t accepted, their gender wasn’t accepted or it wasn’t legal where they were living. Or living here and not having job opportunities, or being ostracised, and beaten down or having to leave their families.”

In spite of those hardships, Marlo said, they’re all “just living out their passions”.

“Murray’s studying, she used to be a psychologist, she’s recently quit now she’s taking up piano again. Latoya, she talked about being in the ballroom scene and a sex worker, and now she advocates for sex worker rights. And Ricky had a pretty tough upbringing in terms of her childhood, which she talks about, and coming to terms with her gender. And she’s done so much advocacy work in so many fields, like Breast Screening Australia, Housing for the Aged Action Group. And she’s also a radio broadcaster.

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“They all just do so much in their own ways,” Marlo said, “And I just thought that was really inspiring. They’re not living in the shadows and letting their age or their gender affect them anymore, they’re very much go-getters in their own right.”

Arielle Richards is the multimedia reporter at VICE Australia, follow her on Instagram and TikTok.

The post Who Tells the Stories of Our Trans Elders? appeared first on VICE.

For years, when a woman was killed by a partner, the media would label it a “crime of passion”, or frame it as family drama. The fact that men were doing the killing and women were victimised wasn’t mentioned at all. These terms undermine the true dynamics of femicide: toxic relationships, intimidation, control, violence.

According to the Gender Institute for Gender Equality, 1,425 women were killed by men in the UK between 2009 to 2018. Sixty-two percent of them were killed by a current or former partner. All these women were so much more than a sad statistic. They had full lives, they were surrounded by people who knew them and cared about them but did not see the signs something bad was about to happen. Nobody thinks this could ever happen to them.

Unfortunately, this lack of foresight all too common: Violence against women is still so taboo it’s hard to know what to do when you’re personally involved. This stigma only benefits abusers, too, who take advantage of the ambiguity and shroud of secrecy surrounding their relationships.

Barbara Godwaldt’s, Mariët Bosch and Odilia van de Bersselaar’s all lost women at the hands of their partners. They talked to us about why it’s so important to call these crimes what they truly are.

‘I had to live with two injustices: My sister was murdered, and her death wasn’t recognised in a fair way’

“My sister’s murder is a typically case of femicide. The relationship started very intensely, where you get loads of compliments and gifts. But after a while, her husband became less sweet. At one point, he threatened to stab their dog to death with a screwdriver. Gea wasn’t badly physically abused, so for a long time I didn’t understand what kind of danger she was in. Now I’ve read about it, I know that control and intimidation are also signs that can lead up to femicide.

For a while, she tried to save the relationship. But at some point, she could no longer explain to her own daughter why she was with him. When she broke up with him, he killed her. Then he committed suicide.

After my sister’s murder, I had to arrange all sorts of things for her death along with the family of the man who had done this. It was a nightmare. Local newspapers reported a “family tragedy” with “two victims”, so many people didn’t get what really happened.

Talking about a family tragedy had a huge impact. Her death was treated as if there was no killer, and his family was only too happy with this version. I had to live with two injustices: My sister was murdered, and her death wasn’t recognised in a fair way.” – Barbara Godwaldt, the sister of Gea Godwaldt, who was killed by her husband at 48

‘People think violence against women is excusable under some circumstances, as if you can provoke or deserve violence’

“It started two days before the murder. My daughter Shelley was sitting with her boyfriend at our kitchen table, when he suddenly started talking about a man I didn’t know, who was threatening to kill my daughter. That really came out of the blue. I should’ve known then something was wrong.

She and her boyfriend had been dating for a while, but Shelley didn’t seem in love to me. He was pretty confident though, and asked if he could move in with her quite early in their relationship. They did, even though she thought it was too soon.

On the day of the murder, I was briefly in touch with her via text. At one point, I went to bed because I was feeling sick. Suddenly, my partner stormed upstairs to tell me he’d received a message saying a dead body was found in his flat, where Shelley was living. We quickly drove there, and they confirmed a woman had been murdered. I didn’t understand a thing – I’d never heard of femicide.

Her boyfriend claims he impulsively killed her, because Shelley kept laughing at him while they were having a fight. He said he “couldn’t take it”, as if he had no choice. I don’t believe any of this. After all, he’d tried to make me suspicious of another man at my own kitchen table. That makes it clear it was premeditated. But he got away with it: He’s in jail for involuntary manslaughter instead of murder. To me, the case isn’t closed at all.

Shelley is still being blamed for her own death. His family keeps repeating that she was driving him insane, that she was mental and out of control. None of this is true, Shelley was a sweet girl. And even if she wasn’t, that’s no reason to kill her.

People think violence against women is excusable under some circumstances, as if you can provoke or deserve violence. This is why I think we should talk about healthy boundaries and red flags in relationships as early as primary school. My daughter was so young, she didn’t even know how much danger she was in.” – Mariët Bosch, the mother of Shelley, who was killed by her boyfriend age 22

‘My daughter was murdered because her boyfriend couldn’t handle the fact that she was an independent woman’

“My daughter Clarinda met a man, a cheerful guy, and they seemed madly in love. He had a good job and it all seemed perfectly fine. When they moved in together and my daughter got pregnant, something changed. There was a strange tension at their house. It didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

About six weeks after giving birth, Clarinda called me, asking me to come immediately. When I got there, she had already packed her bags. She told me then their relationship has become violent during the pregnancy. I took her away from there, and she stayed with us for a while. Later, she decided to get back with him. She wanted her baby to have a father, too.

One day, Clarinda called it quits for good, because the violence wouldn’t stop. He snapped. He stabbed her to death in the street, right in front of our house.

In hindsight, the signs had been there for a while. He was always looking at her phone, he had turned on ‘Find My iPhone’ so he could always see where she was. She was no longer allowed to see her friends. I was already worried about that, but when I asked questions about how things were really like at home, she avoided them. It was hard to assess how much danger she was in.

For a long time, I didn’t understand what had happened. It was beyond my comprehension. I thought: ‘This only happens to other women, not to my daughter.’  I sometimes read in the newspaper about “family tragedies”, or a woman being murdered, but that’s not what it is. My daughter was murdered because she was a woman. Because her boyfriend couldn’t handle the fact that she made her own choices and was an independent woman.

Clarinda’s ex was known to the psychiatrist authorities and to the police because of previous violent incidents, but they did nothing about it, because femicide is not a priority. That has to change.” – Odilia van de Bersselaar, the mother of Clarinda, who was murdered by the father of her child age 34

The post ‘Call It By Its Name’: Why We Need to Recognise Femicide appeared first on VICE.

A few weeks back, I felt my eyesight getting hazier. I went to the optometrist for an eye test and, weirdly, the results indicated that my prescription had decreased, so I’d need weaker glasses. I was as confused as my doctor, but after a bit of looking into this, it was determined that testosterone was behind the changes.

As strange as it might seem, hormone levels really can have an impact on an individual’s eyesight. In cis men, this is largely because age can slow down the rate at which our body produces androgens, a group of male sex hormones including testosterone. One knock-on effect of this reduction is blurry eyesight.

For the past two months I’ve been using testosterone gel. Usually applied to the lower abdomen and absorbed through the skin, these gels top up my T levels and are prescribed by doctors.

Prior to using it, I read up on possible side effects that come with the use of gels like AndroGel: increased muscle mass, shortened temper, or a deeper voice. I’ve also discovered some other personal effects to add to that list: the structure of my hair has changed, I swear my feet have grown by a few millimetres, and, happily, my eyesight has improved.

People use testosterone gel and clinically administered testosterone injections for a variety of reasons. Everyone reacts very differently to the treatment, and since there is very little in the way of public discussion about the topic, those side effects can be surprising. We asked gel users – cis, trans and intersex – about their experiences with the drug and all of the remarkable things that come with it.

‘It doesn’t take much for me to start crying: put “Bambi” on and the tears will be streaming down my face’

I was diagnosed with HIV in 1999 and first put on medication in 2001. After a few years on the drugs, I became increasingly fatigued. It started with coming home on Friday evening and then spending most of the weekend sleeping. As time went by, I’d already be so tired on Wednesday that I had to drag myself to work for the rest of the week. This is because the medication I was on blocks your energy supply at a cellular level. 

I had contacts in San Francisco at the time, and someone there pointed out a study to me in which anabolic steroids [artificial testosterone] were used together with HIV medication to fight that fatigue. My internist approved the treatment and I have been using testosterone ever since. I do it in 12 week blocks – I apply the gel for three months and then have the next three off.

The testosterone has given me enough energy to be able to do things again. Another thing that struck me is that I need to be careful with my emotions while applying the gel. It doesn’t take much for me to start crying: put Bambi on and the tears will be streaming down my face. Fortunately, I’m not prone to depression, but I can at times wallow in self-pity. I really need to actively get myself together in moments like that. Testosterone is also the reason that I can’t allow myself to get too angry: I tend to oversimplify things and become rude. If I start to speak softly, that means I’m really angry. Then I have to restrain myself.

I also notice a difference in my sexuality. During the last two weeks without testosterone, when the fatigue starts to kick in, I’m really looking forward to applying the gel again. – Hans Verhoeven, 58, is a self-declared rainbow activist and owns the online store Gays & Gadgets

‘The first six months of using the gel really felt like being 12 all over again. I even started listening to the music I liked back then!’

I’ve been applying testosterone gel for about seven years now. Back then, trans healthcare looked very different from the way it does today. The gender clinic I was a patient at expected me to start using gel, and I thought, ‘OK, let’s do it.’ A decade ago it was really important, as a trans man, that you were able to convey as much masculinity as possible. I don’t think that way anymore, though. 

I’m still taking testosterone, it has had some very welcome effects. I don’t get my period anymore, which is great because that was really hard for me to live with. My voice dropped, and I think my beard looks cool. If I had to start the process again, I’d still use testosterone gel, but as far as I’m concerned it isn’t an absolute must.

In fact, the first six months of using the gel really felt like being 12 all over again. Everything sucked. I even started listening to the music I liked back then! Essentially you go into a kind of second puberty: You have mood swings, you’re constantly hungry and always horny. I’d wake up and the middle of the night and nudge my girlfriend and tell her I was in the mood. She’d just send me to the couch and tell me to take care of it myself. Also, my fat distribution changed – all my fat moved away from my hips and ass to my belly. 

Physically, I feel like I won the genetic lottery. Any man wanting to look more masculine would kill to have my beard. I was quite hairy anyway, but it took time to get used to it. Eating can be a challenge now. I can’t eat yoghurt anymore and soup is impossible to get out of my beard. I had to change how I performed oral sex, too. – Bappie Kortram, 30, is a YouTuber and podcaster

‘I became hairy and my penis started to grow. Suddenly, I was part of the group’

When I was 16, I looked 12. I didn’t hit puberty. I had male genitalia but I didn’t get secondary sex characteristics like a deeper voice. After undergoing a few tests, it turned out I had Kallmann syndrome, meaning the substance that helps with the production of testosterone isn’t present in my body.

The doctors put me on testosterone, administered by injection. I’d have these huge peaks after those injections. I’d get them done on Fridays because I played football on Saturdays and the testosterone made me a lot faster and stronger. And after two months on them, my voice started to drop and it gave me those other secondary sex characteristics: I became hairy and my penis started to grow. Suddenly, I was part of the group, and that can be so important.

In general, things were going too fast so I was eventually put on testosterone gel rather than getting the injections. Not so long ago, my internist prescribed me a lower dose of [injected] testosterone. My reaction was, ‘Oh no, I’m finally able to keep up with the men in the gym!’ I didn’t want to give up that feeling of pride. Fortunately, she was very understanding and assured me that I’d still be able to keep up with the other guys. 

Over the course of my life, I’ve thought a lot about what masculinity is. I can’t really pinpoint when I feel like a man because so many of those characteristics are social constructs. But I cry a lot less now when I’m on testosterone. – Pepijn Schoneveld, 36, is an actor, comedian and podcaster

The post ‘My Feet Have Grown’: The Unexpected Side Effects of Taking Testosterone appeared first on VICE.

Since the dawn of the feminist movement, those who advocate for the rights of women and push back against gender-based discrimination have often been subjected to accusations of being, essentially, angry, childless bloke-haters with too many cats. Despite numerous waves of the movement forcing major societal shifts for the betterment of women’s lives throughout history, these sorts of ridiculous mischaracterisations have been genuinely effective at stopping many women, and men, from backing it. 

This new scientific study exposes the misandry myth as being clearly false. “Gender relations are being conducted in the shadow of a falsehood,” the study authors write, meaning “the present findings indicate that people are wrong to dismiss feminism on these grounds.”

“The present findings reveal that feminists’ attitudes toward men are broadly positive and broadly similar to other people’s attitudes toward men. They also reveal that people generally perceive the opposite to be true. In so doing, the present findings disconfirm a trope that deters women from feminism, and which is widely used to delegitimize it,” the authors write.

Feminism is on the rise among 18-24-year-olds in the UK, with 70 percent of women identifying as feminists. The US is seeing a rise, too, though the issue is more polarised, with many thinking it unfairly blames men for the challenges women face. 

The research involved almost 10,000 participants across nine different countries, with respondents asked how much they agreed with statements like “men act like babies when they are sick” and “women seek to gain power by getting control over men”. 

One study included people from the US, UK, Poland and Italy – each with “different cultural contexts” and “varying degrees of gender equality”, the researchers said. It revealed that feminists and non-feminists shared the same attitudes towards men, with the only difference being feminists were less benevolent towards men. The same study conducted in non-Western countries like China, India, Japan, South Korea and Taiwan found that women there held similarly positive attitudes towards men.

This news should, the authors write, “contribute to theory, research, and public debates that put gender relations on a more rational and informed setting.” So there you have it: Feminists, it seems, are complex enough to maintain healthy positive relationships with their fathers, sons, husbands, partners and male friends, while maintaining a critical attitude towards ongoing gender inequality. Thank you, science.

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It came as quite a surprise, to put it mildly, for me, the doctor who told me and my parents who never could’ve imagined their precious little girl was actually born “biologically male”.

I’m intersex, which means I don’t fit into the typical chromosomal or anatomical definitions of male or female. I’m also a musician and activist from Melbourne on a relentless mission to revolutionise intersex representation in Australia. 

Before I began casually educating millions of random people online about the inner workings of my genitalia, I was terrified to even bring them up with the people closest to me.

But why? Why the terror? And why the shift? How does one go from one extreme to the other? 

It wasn’t due to an abundance of positive media representation, I can assure you, or the collective knowledge and understanding from the general public that’s oh-so prevalent in our society. 

I like to say it’s because it’s because I’ve got the balls. But the truth is, it really wasn’t easy.

Against the suburban backdrop of Eastern Melbourne, I, like many queer teenagers, found myself surrounded by people who idolised heteronormative ideals and in the ceaseless pursuit of fitting in and exuding coolness and allure. Upon receiving the verdict that explained my absent periods from an ill-informed doctor, I was compelled into silence. 

When I did confide in a so-called friend who went blabbing that I was a man, it solidified the “truth” I was warned about: If you’re intersex, prepare for discrimination and pain – the world won’t spare you for being born this way.

Contrary to the messages I was receiving, as I delved deeper into the world of intersex, I began to realise its prevalence. 

But I wondered: “Why isn’t this taught in schools?” 

According to most health organisations, being born intersex is nearly as common as having red hair, so where were all the intersex people? Had we all been collectively terrorised into staying silent, because our modern society had led us to believe that being born this way was undeserving of recognition or respect?

I found myself in the midst of an internal battle of self-hatred and fear, while still holding onto an entrenched awareness that the mainstream discourse was simply ignorant. Fueled by these conflicting emotions, I decided to make it my personal mission to do as much as I could to change the narrative here in Australia – hopefully to spare young intersex people from feeling the way I did.

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Taking that initial step of reaching for my phone and sharing my story online was the beginning of my journey. First, a few thousand interactions, then a few hundred thousand, then a million. Despite encountering occasional comments rooted in ignorance, most people were just curious and grateful to be educated.

Despite the attention, I couldn’t ignore the glaring absence of intersex representation and the urgent need for it. 

I remember hearing rumours about celebrities who were intersex but went to great lengths to disprove the claims. That set a bar for how intersex people were viewed by the mainstream. In order to succeed in life, you had to hide. I decided to grab that bar and throw it out the window.

Australia, whether it knows it or not, has to wake up to the reality of intersex people and their experiences. 

In a media landscape that has never acknowledged our existence, I am trying to carve out our space. It might look as though I stand alone in the entire nation for amplifying intersex voices. But I don’t. There’s a whole globe full of us waiting for recognition and we’re not going to stop being born into the world.

Representation is not just a matter of diversity, it’s a matter of human rights. It’s a call to action – for a society that claims to champion inclusivity to truly walk the talk. The absence of intersex representation perpetuates ignorance and discrimination. It’s time to educate and time to celebrate the beautiful spectrum of human existence. Until everyone sees themselves reflected in the media we consume, we can never truly claim to be a society that values and respects every individual.

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I once feared that being intersex would be a barrier to success – a secret to protect at all costs. I was mistaken. I’m simply a natural biological variation, nothing extraordinary. Once I grasped that, I felt compelled to be that person I used to wish I had and to get up and say to the world that it’s okay to be intersex. It’s normal. 

The only real difference is the way the world treats us. That’s where the challenge lies.

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