Gender, gender, and more gender stuff. (Graphic at points)
Fair warning, this may be more explicit about my sexual desires than you want to read.
(a dear friend's post about gender issues and genderqueerness/third gender stuff, I'll edit in the link if zie chooses)
My reply:
As you might expect, this resonated hugely with me. Hugely. When this appears as a post on my own LJ, would you prefer a linkback or no?
Also, this is an icon that I use extraordinarily cautiously, and basically never when full-transition trans issues are on the table, for fear of it seeming dismissive in just the wrong ways. But it's definitely all about my own experience of and appreciation for genderqueerness and our wonderful in-between-land.
Part of why High School was so miserable for me, on top of everything else I went off about (and I think this also deserves its own post) is how I was forcing myself into girl drag, and horribly uncomfortable and awkward in it about 90% of the time. I didn't know how else to connect with my sexuality, to connect with partners' sexuality, outside those very gendered forms of sexual performance (despite often being hugely attracted to people who violated those boundaries, specifically). I didn't recognize, for some reason, probably all high-school-brain-insecurity-related, that I could be sexy without being femme. That even if I saw other people pulling it off, that it could ever be me (I think that's often a big part of my perpetual cluelessness). That I could kiss a boy without being a "girl". The random intermittent points when I actually did connect authentically with my feminine side just made it all the more confusing. And since part of my reaction to this was to dodge all fashion issues and just let my mother continue to dress me funny, I didn't learn most of those skills until much later in life than I would've preferred, either. That pattern continued through parts of college, although I did finally start learning that stuff, start finding what felt authentic to me. Thank you queer culture, amen and hallelujah!
Personally, in terms of transition-related issues, I might have other ideals about my body (I'd like to be taller, tougher, more butch, more able to pass, more androgynous, with a gigantic fucking clit of fantastic, cock-like proportions), but I would never give up my cunt. I would never give up my staggering, pulsating multiple orgasms that send me into an altered state. I'd never give up vaginal fisting, double penetration, or the fantasy of double-fisting. Besides, strap-ons are awesome, and pretty thoroughly satisfying for me as a way of addressing that other side. My breasts irritate me some intermittently, but they fit my body, and in general I love its' robust curviness and strength and earth mother shape. And I've been able to build a happy relationship with the femininity of my body by using that kind of archetype in my self-identity.
As far as interest in medical treatment, or even giving enough of a damn to try to pass? I'm too lazy. Honestly, that's a huge part of it. It's not so important to me that I'm willing to bind and primp and prepare and do everything that would be necessary to ever start passing with my particular body. I'd actually be moderately interested in adding low-level testosterone to my body, but again, too lazy to deal with the extra medical hassle in my life. Have enough of that shit.
I still get a little grin on the rare occasions (usually during Cleveland winters) when I accidentally do, though. Always makes me happy to be "sir'd"
I do NOT get a little happy grin when people anxiously and well-meaningly try to "reassure me" about my femininity when I state anything about how I feel about my own internal gender sense. (It's similar to how I react when people try to "reassure me" that I'm not fat) Excuse me? No. You have taken the wrong path in this conversation, and if you don't stop, I'm about to make you extraordinarily uncomfortable with the level of detail I will freely give you about why you are on the wrong path. Actually, my standard response to people complimenting me on looking all feminine because I'm wearing a dress for once is "yeah, sometimes in this heat the need not to wear pants trumps all internal gender sense." I consider that "fair warning" that they're on dangerous ground and should back away slowly. My corollary response on fat stuff? Depending on the actual recent facts: "Oh, did you lose weight? You look wonderful!" "*happy bouncy voice* Nope, don't think so!" or "*concerned tone* Yeah, I think one of my meds is screwing with me".
Additionally, in terms of presentation options, I'm a nudist, for fuck's sake. Without going hardcore surgical, how could I even imagine passing or going androgynous in presentation without changing large elements of my lifestyle? Although contrariwise, I'm actually not at all gender-conflicted about wandering around topless in public with big, saggy, DD boobs and not feeling like it feminizes me at all (so damned happy they're not perky. I think that might fuck with me). If anything, I feel more confident in the underlying masculinity of being topless and in jeans, as it presents on me, than almost any other presentation. I have, in fact, in a particularly funny moment, scared off drunk frat boys trying to hit on a group of us by standing up from the fire, topless, tattooed, and shoulders squared, and doing basically nothing else. They left. Immediately. (and yes, I realize there's lots to unpack about how I perceive and reflect some gender stereotypes, and I work and think on that a lot, but it would be many paragraphs more than I'm too drugged out to think about)
So, although I'd like to live in a world that would take my definitions of my own gender at face value, I just can't be bothered enough to stress about it, as long as the people I care about get it. Any by and large, they do. When they don't, when they blow it off, it hurts. Again to rhapsodize about Chad and Katy, but their active appreciation of my masculinity is hugely important and validating to me. The most safe I feel in my close relationships, the more I feel my masculinity is validated, the paradoxically more comfortable I am wandering the full range of my personal gender spectrum, and enjoying the feminine end of that too. I don't feel like their lack of grokking me will conceptually lock me into that zone forever if I happen to wander there. When I feel like I'm having to fight to have my masculinities acknowledged or taken seriously, I'm much more reactive and unwilling to wander into femme-land at all.
It's also something odd about talking about my gender stuff in front of high school and college folks who often saw mostly my girl drag, and may find some of this seemingly baffling and out-of-the-blue. Or worse, dismissable. *sigh* Insecurities much?
That Clonopin I took almost 10 hours ago is still fucking me up in a massive way (goes to look up half-life -- well, fuck. 18-50 hours. Oy.), so I'm pretty incapable of rereading for coherency at the moment. My apologies (and only half a pill if I ever need it again in the future!)
(a dear friend's post about gender issues and genderqueerness/third gender stuff, I'll edit in the link if zie chooses)
My reply:
As you might expect, this resonated hugely with me. Hugely. When this appears as a post on my own LJ, would you prefer a linkback or no?
Also, this is an icon that I use extraordinarily cautiously, and basically never when full-transition trans issues are on the table, for fear of it seeming dismissive in just the wrong ways. But it's definitely all about my own experience of and appreciation for genderqueerness and our wonderful in-between-land.
Part of why High School was so miserable for me, on top of everything else I went off about (and I think this also deserves its own post) is how I was forcing myself into girl drag, and horribly uncomfortable and awkward in it about 90% of the time. I didn't know how else to connect with my sexuality, to connect with partners' sexuality, outside those very gendered forms of sexual performance (despite often being hugely attracted to people who violated those boundaries, specifically). I didn't recognize, for some reason, probably all high-school-brain-insecurity-related, that I could be sexy without being femme. That even if I saw other people pulling it off, that it could ever be me (I think that's often a big part of my perpetual cluelessness). That I could kiss a boy without being a "girl". The random intermittent points when I actually did connect authentically with my feminine side just made it all the more confusing. And since part of my reaction to this was to dodge all fashion issues and just let my mother continue to dress me funny, I didn't learn most of those skills until much later in life than I would've preferred, either. That pattern continued through parts of college, although I did finally start learning that stuff, start finding what felt authentic to me. Thank you queer culture, amen and hallelujah!
Personally, in terms of transition-related issues, I might have other ideals about my body (I'd like to be taller, tougher, more butch, more able to pass, more androgynous, with a gigantic fucking clit of fantastic, cock-like proportions), but I would never give up my cunt. I would never give up my staggering, pulsating multiple orgasms that send me into an altered state. I'd never give up vaginal fisting, double penetration, or the fantasy of double-fisting. Besides, strap-ons are awesome, and pretty thoroughly satisfying for me as a way of addressing that other side. My breasts irritate me some intermittently, but they fit my body, and in general I love its' robust curviness and strength and earth mother shape. And I've been able to build a happy relationship with the femininity of my body by using that kind of archetype in my self-identity.
As far as interest in medical treatment, or even giving enough of a damn to try to pass? I'm too lazy. Honestly, that's a huge part of it. It's not so important to me that I'm willing to bind and primp and prepare and do everything that would be necessary to ever start passing with my particular body. I'd actually be moderately interested in adding low-level testosterone to my body, but again, too lazy to deal with the extra medical hassle in my life. Have enough of that shit.
I still get a little grin on the rare occasions (usually during Cleveland winters) when I accidentally do, though. Always makes me happy to be "sir'd"
I do NOT get a little happy grin when people anxiously and well-meaningly try to "reassure me" about my femininity when I state anything about how I feel about my own internal gender sense. (It's similar to how I react when people try to "reassure me" that I'm not fat) Excuse me? No. You have taken the wrong path in this conversation, and if you don't stop, I'm about to make you extraordinarily uncomfortable with the level of detail I will freely give you about why you are on the wrong path. Actually, my standard response to people complimenting me on looking all feminine because I'm wearing a dress for once is "yeah, sometimes in this heat the need not to wear pants trumps all internal gender sense." I consider that "fair warning" that they're on dangerous ground and should back away slowly. My corollary response on fat stuff? Depending on the actual recent facts: "Oh, did you lose weight? You look wonderful!" "*happy bouncy voice* Nope, don't think so!" or "*concerned tone* Yeah, I think one of my meds is screwing with me".
Additionally, in terms of presentation options, I'm a nudist, for fuck's sake. Without going hardcore surgical, how could I even imagine passing or going androgynous in presentation without changing large elements of my lifestyle? Although contrariwise, I'm actually not at all gender-conflicted about wandering around topless in public with big, saggy, DD boobs and not feeling like it feminizes me at all (so damned happy they're not perky. I think that might fuck with me). If anything, I feel more confident in the underlying masculinity of being topless and in jeans, as it presents on me, than almost any other presentation. I have, in fact, in a particularly funny moment, scared off drunk frat boys trying to hit on a group of us by standing up from the fire, topless, tattooed, and shoulders squared, and doing basically nothing else. They left. Immediately. (and yes, I realize there's lots to unpack about how I perceive and reflect some gender stereotypes, and I work and think on that a lot, but it would be many paragraphs more than I'm too drugged out to think about)
So, although I'd like to live in a world that would take my definitions of my own gender at face value, I just can't be bothered enough to stress about it, as long as the people I care about get it. Any by and large, they do. When they don't, when they blow it off, it hurts. Again to rhapsodize about Chad and Katy, but their active appreciation of my masculinity is hugely important and validating to me. The most safe I feel in my close relationships, the more I feel my masculinity is validated, the paradoxically more comfortable I am wandering the full range of my personal gender spectrum, and enjoying the feminine end of that too. I don't feel like their lack of grokking me will conceptually lock me into that zone forever if I happen to wander there. When I feel like I'm having to fight to have my masculinities acknowledged or taken seriously, I'm much more reactive and unwilling to wander into femme-land at all.
It's also something odd about talking about my gender stuff in front of high school and college folks who often saw mostly my girl drag, and may find some of this seemingly baffling and out-of-the-blue. Or worse, dismissable. *sigh* Insecurities much?
That Clonopin I took almost 10 hours ago is still fucking me up in a massive way (goes to look up half-life -- well, fuck. 18-50 hours. Oy.), so I'm pretty incapable of rereading for coherency at the moment. My apologies (and only half a pill if I ever need it again in the future!)