These Times, They Are A-Changing Pt. 2

Well, it's been quite a while now, hasn't it? Where do I even start to begin? It's been what, like 3 years since my last post? And that wasn't even a commentary of any sort. Part of me doesn't even want to waste my time typing this out on here. I mean, who evens reads my blog in the first place? Anyone? I guess I'll try to start on here; at least it'll be written out and I can edit it from there. Let me start by stating I am not the person I was 3 years ago. I'm not the person I was one year ago. I have found new and better was to describe myself. More accurate ways to define and to identify myself. I've been questioning who I am and how I feel for so many years, and only now have found an answer that truly hits the mark.

I am genderqueer. Somewhere between genderfluid and trans, and I'm trying to figure it out each day.

Gender fluidity hasn't been a very open subject until these past couple of years, 2015 specifically. The genderfluid community has famous icons now, like Ruby Rose, Jaden Smith, and Miley Cyrus, to help explain and show what genderfluid looks like.

To those of us who've never had this title, this option in our vocabulary, this past year has been a godsend. I've struggled from a very young age with gender identity. I've never felt very feminine but not completely male either. For a few years here and there I've juggled around the thought that I might identify as trans. Through middle school and early high school I tried to cross dress as much as I could get away with without my mother's red flag going up, but it wasn't satisfying enough because physically I didn't appear male. By junior year I settled for dressing in band tees and skinny jeans and getting a mohawk because it felt neutral enough to appease both sides of my inner crises. However, I still was torn inside. Depression was eating me from the inside out, and multiple times I self harmed and even attempted suicide. I hated that I couldn't express how I felt without some kind of backlash from parents or peers. I floated through the rest of the year like a ghost. I was there in body, but not in spirit; my soul was hidden elsewhere, only allowed to surface when I was alone.

Senior year finally hit, along with a strong wave of apathy, and I resorted to mostly sweats and oversized hoodies to hide in. I wasn't happy with how I looked because more than half the time it didn't reflect how I felt. I was just ready to graduate and start anew somewhere else.

Unfortunately, the "starting anew" that I had so hoped for never got to happen really. On one hand, being around completely new people allowed me to somehow be more extroverted than I typically was. But on the other hand, I very quickly ended my current relationship and started a new one without any time to try and develop the self that had been shut away for so many years. To top it off, that new relationship ended up being with the man I am now married to and have a daughter with. I should be happy, right? That I found love so early? I'm not though, and that's the problem.

My husband and I have briefly talked about my gender issues. To some extent he's comfortable with it and tries to understand, but if I were to ever pursue an actual transition, he doesn't think he'd be able to stay with me. I'm not mad or upset about that, I mean, asking him to stay would be like asking him to go gay for me. It's just sad to think that I may never feel happy or comfortable with who I am if I want to preserve my marriage. We've discussed possibly staying friends, and living together, and even possibly staying married but pursuing other people, but with our daughter in the middle of it all, it makes living that kind of life difficult to explain later in her life. I don't want to be the selfish one and break up this marriage, but I'm not sure how long I can pursue a life I hate when the one I want is within arm's reach.

I ordered a binder a few days ago. I've stared buying and wearing men's clothes and deodorant. I'm starting to wear less and less makeup, only applying contour to make my face more masculine, and a smidgen of eyeliner every so often. I throw my already somewhat masculine hair up into a man bun and started using a wallet instead of a purse. I carry myself differently, and speak in a lower voice. The weird thing is, all of it feels so natural, more so than my old feminine routine. Each day I wake up with the hopeful thinking that maybe I'll pass today. I feel better when I'm a guy. I feel more confident, more alert, more energized. I feel happy.

Honestly, the more I type and the more I think about it, the less genderfluid I feel and the more trans I feel. It's taken me a couple of weeks since the start of this post to actually get my thoughts out, so what began as a post on genderfluidity turned into my coming out as trans post. I just don't know if I'm actually ready to really come out or not, like to my husband or my family and friends. I'm just afraid that if I ever do decide to start my transition that I'll miss feeling feminine some days, because those days still exist, no matter how few there are. I'm afraid I'll get months into T and decide to stop because I'm not looking how I want or not sounding how I want or because I miss having my husband to goof around with. I know transmen who still enjoy dressing femininely and I applaud them for having the confidence to do so while still remaining masculine. I just don't know if I would or not. I don't want to wear a dress or a skirt one day and get addressed with the wrong pronouns, or get into the argument that what I'm wearing is misleading and I shouldn't be upset. Maybe that's too much to ask for. I don't know...

I want to talk to someone about what I'm going through. Someone that will either understand and have some helpful input, or someone that'll just shut up and listen. My husband is neither. I'd talk to one of my closer trans friends, but at times he can come off as intimidating to talk to, and I don't know if I could actually validate myself to him or not. I mean, I'm sure I can and it's probably just anxiety making me feel that way, but still. An anonymous listener wouldn't really help either because despite them probably having valuable input, they don't actually know me and I don't think i could wrap my head and heart around a stranger's opinion about my life. So I'm kind of stuck in this identity crisis limbo.

So in closing, I guess if I actually know you irl, I could really use some kind of pep talk or at least someone to vent to. If I don't, I'd still be willing to hear what you've got to say. Whether or not it really affects me is really gonna just depend on what kind of mood I'm in. Sorry.

Well, at least it's mostly out. I'm sure I've forgotten something, but the important stuff is out in an organized fashion. That's all I could've hoped for.

~Misery Chick