Posts Tagged ‘ queer ’

Good Things and Bad Things

So, on a fairly regular basis I come across stuff I want to share with you but I fear that if I re-post it all individually that it might start to devour my blog and it’ll end up full of re-postings and very little content from me.

So instead, I’ll be doing a summary of a Friday divided into fairly equal parts of good and bad stuff.  This is mainly because a lot of really shit stuff happens and sometimes I think we need to remind ourselves that good shit happens also.  I really want to look out for my friends who haven’t been having a good week either, they can just click on links to the positive stuff and ignore the rest.

Good Things

Bad Things

  • So I was going to link to some bad(stupid) things that happened locally.  Then I realised that that would raise the possibility of linking the idiots concerned back here to my blog.  So I decided not to add that.  Which is, in and of itself a bad thing.  Poos.
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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.

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!