FACT: The way to a non-binary’s heart is to draw them a picture of themselves as a pony.
This one is actually a little bit true
This one is actually a little bit true
I was trying to explain my gender to my therapist today. She noticed that I kept describing myself as ‘masculine’ instead of ‘male,’ and I explained that I’m not a transman, my gender is something else but I like to appear more masculine. She goes “oh! so you just want to be more butch?” I kind of wince and say “no, no not really.”* I explain that my gender is definitely not female, it’s not quite male, but it’s not really in between either. She says “oh so it’s like a mix?” I say no, not really. If you have male and female on a line, my gender is NOT somewhere between. My gender is somewhere off that line, somewhere not male, female, or in between. She finally goes “oh so you’re rather genderless then?” Yes!!
Later I try to explain some stuff about my body. I explain that I don’t want to be seen as a girl. If I’m walking in a public place, I would like people to see me as a boy or a man. I explained that even though I’m not male, I’d rather be seen as male because it’s better than being seen as female. People are used to a binary sex and they’re used to gendering people based on those ‘binary’ primary and secondary sexual characteristics. I exclaimed that I wish there was a third sex, one with obvious primary and secondary sexual characteristics. That way I could transition to that. Unfortunately there isn’t.
But I’m glad my therapist understood. She understood my gender extremely well and she understood my problems with my body (socially and physically) and that I’d like to change it to match my gender.
I’m very happy about this :)
*I realized at this moment that I’m really uncomfortable being referred to as ‘butch.’ As far as I know (please correct me if I’m wrong), ‘butch’ is usually used to refer to more masculine women, especially lesbians. I don’t want to be seen as a masculine woman, I want to be seen as a masculine/androgynous other.
There are times when I wonder if I’m really trans. I wonder if I’m making it all up, deluding myself because I hate femininity or something. I completely question my gender all over again.
When this happens, I try to think of myself as a woman. I try to think of myself, mind and body, as female, what I would feel and think if I was a woman. I try to think of myself as ‘she’ and ‘her.’ I try to do this to see if they go together, to see if they match or connect. To see if I’m actually a woman.
But it doesn’t work. My mind reels and backs away. It feels like two magnets pushing away from each other. It’s inconceivable. Me, a woman? Impossible. It will never work.
And I realize it never did.
I’m just a girl with short hair
I’m just a girl who dresses like a boy
No matter what I do, I’m still a girl
I’ll always be a girl
That’s all everyone will ever see me as
“Why does she want to look like a boy?”
“She was so pretty as a girl.”
“She should wear earrings or she’ll look like a boy.”
“When will she look like a girl again?”
Leave me alone. Stop talking behind my back. Be a bigot to my face.
“Thank you, Miss.”
“Have a nice day, Ma’am.”
Why is it necessary? I look like a boy, at least I think I do. Stop forcing a gender on me. Stop implying “no matter how you dress you will always be a girl, and I will address you as such.” That’s what it sounds like when you say that.
My body gives me away, telling people the wrong cues, the wrong signals. People like to gender bodies, and they see mine and label it female, even though it’s not, so therefore I must be female too.
Stupid fucking voice.
Stupid fucking breasts.
Stupid fucking hips.
This lack of physical form allows them to teleport, travel through time, alter their appearance at will, communicate with animals, turn any metal into diamond, and any liquid into their alcoholic beverage of choice.
Sometimes I forget what my body looks like. Well, that’s not quite right. It’s not like I’m sitting on the couch, reading or something, and think “oh gosh I have no idea what my body looks like!” It’s more like, when I see my naked body in the mirror I forgot how “female” it looks, and it always surprises me. I don’t think of myself as female, and even when I look at myself in the mirror when I’m clothed I don’t think I look particularly female. So when I see my breasts, my curved body, and my lack of muscles, it always surprises me. It’s not like I’m expecting something else, like a flat chest or a penis or whatever. It’s like I’m not expecting anything, like nothing should be there at all.
I don’t know if this is related to being trans*/non-binary, or maybe I’m just dissociating again, or maybe it’s just absent-mindedness.
But does this happen to anyone else?