Cigars, men shopping and barriers

It’s scary making changes. Even though you know that they are good changes, they’re still scary. That first step can be a pretty big one.

I’m ao much happier though. I’ve been so angry for so very long. I’ve raged at the world and not really known why. I havn’t raged since I came to accept my gender-queerness though.

So far everyone that I’ve told has been really nice. I think some of them don’t really get it but they’ve nodded and said ‘Cool!’. One guy trying to get his head around it asked ‘So, it’s kind of like a makeover?’ and said we should smoke cigars when I was done!?! Because I’ve been asking about what kinds of shops they go to a couple of the guys have offered to take me shopping which puts that sexist myth to bed! The awesome thing about University is that even if people have problems with stuff like this they know that they shouldn’t and keep their mouths shut…

It’s not so nice in the real world though. One thing that makes me really sad is reading blogs and watching clips about how trans people are treated in our community. By community I don’t mean the whole wide world. I mean my community, my people. Trans people talking about non-acceptance from the queer community. Trans-women feeling shunned by feminists. Trans-people of colour feeling ignored by white trans-people. Queer trans-people feeling invisible and having to deal with everyone thinking they’re straight!

WHAT THE HELL PEOPLE!!!

The reason why I’m a dirty socialist leftie is because I believe with my whole heart that humanity needs to take care of itself. When we see someone no matter how different they are from us and no matter how little we understand about them we need to help them out.

What the heck is the point of breaking down barriers if we’re just going to put new ones up?

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What Love Looks Like

So I told him. It took me longer than I thought it would to get down to it but I told him. He doesn’t really care about me being genderqueer and he cares even less about what other people think.

He doesn’t really get it though. He has such a sense of self and cares so little (if at all) about what other people think of him that he doesn’t really get what the issue is. He sees breast-binding as something that’s going to take up more time in the morning and doesn’t really get why I can’t just ignore them if I don’t like them.

It’s weird to think that there are guys out there who would be threatened by this. There are so many people who would freak at the idea of the person they love saying ‘You know that gender you thought I was? I don’t really think I am…’

Shit it must be crap being surrounded by people like that.

Yesterday I told a friend because I was freaking about telling my boyfriend. Her reply was ‘Oh, so you’ll be coming to university in a large guys hoodie and jeans then?’ (which is what I generally wear).

Something that I was stressing heaps about is a non-issue for those who care for me. I am so lucky.

Above and Beyond (and wimping out).

When I was a teenager one of my favourite programmes was Space: Above and Beyond.  One of the characters was Shane Vansen.  For those of you who have never seen the programme she was a bit like Starbuck on the modern Battlestar Gallactica. I used to run fantasy scenarios through my head where I imagined that I was her getting it on with another character called Cooper (He was kind of human but also kind of not. I’ve always had a thing for those characters that don’t quite fit in).  But whenever I did that the scenario would always end up getting confuddled and I’d end up getting it on with Shane instead.

She was that first experience for me where I realised that who I was, who I wanted to be and what I desired didn’t fit into the framework of all of the narratives that surrounded me.  The stories that I was reading, the programmes that I was watching, the conversations that I was faking didn’t work for me.   As I got older I found narratives that worked a bit better.  I found groups that I thought I could possibly belong to.  At least they fit a bit better than the old ones.  But still not quite right.

I have to start my own narrative.

So I wimped out.  I didn’t tell him.  It’s hard.  How do you say to a person “I thought I should let you know, I’m going to be changing a few things about the way I dress and the way I present myself, so um, I might start looking a bit like a guy.  Are you OK with that?”

He’s just so sure of himself, he always has been.  He is who he is and if people have a problem with that they can stuff it.  He doesn’t feel the pressure to conform because he never has.  It’s one of the things about him that I love the most.

I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it.  I’m sure it will be ok. 

It doesn’t stop me from being scared though.

The Magical Creature is Born!

When I was younger I created a blog. It was one of those ones full of crap that wasn’t that interesting. Just a place for me to let my friends know what was going on and put up interesting links. This ones different.

So recently I’ve been dealing with an issue. As most people in my age bracket do I turned to the interwebs. Surely in this day and age there will plenty of resources for me I asked? Not really. There’s a few but not a whole lot. So, I decided to blog my journey all the way from the beginning to drop just one more cupful of information into the puddle that will hopefully become a lake and one day a sea.

So what’s up? you ask. My gender is what. I had a haircut a couple of weeks ago and it’s started to trigger all sorts of emotions in me. Why I hadn’t gone back to short hair sooner, why I felt pressured to keep long hair that I hated, why I made excuses and lied to myself about wanting to keep it. I went out with my best friend last night and I wore a dress. It’s a dress that I wear a lot, I quite like it or I DID like it (past tense). That dress was fine with my longer hair but now that my hairs back to the way it should be, now that it’s RIGHT, that dress was just so very very wrong.

I’ve only been familar with the term genderqueer for less than a year but it’s SO ME! It explains why I’ve just never felt right in any of the other catogories/labels. I’m neither, I’m both, I’m all and nothing. I’m a biological female who displays feminine masculinity. I don’t care if you do a double take when I walk into the loo’s because out of the corner of your eye you couldn’t tell what I was. Actually, that’s a LIE. I do care. I’m a bit chuffed actually that you do a double take.

I’m going to do something that I’ve wanted to do since I was about 13. I wanted to get them to be like all the other girls, to fit in, because you were supposed to want them. Everyone, everything, every form of media told me that I should want them. When they came I didn’t hate them. They were just wrong. They were these lumps of meat on a part of my body that just didn’t seem to belong.

I’m going to start binding them.

Tonight I’m going to talk to my partner. I figure they deserve a heads up that I’m going to start looking different.

I’m a bit scared. I think I’ll have another shot before I go to bed to talk.

Tomorrow I’ll blog about how it went and where the title of the blog came from.

Toodles and take care!