Hey. It's been a while since my last post. I apologize for that, but with the new semester starting up I've been a bit busy, getting supplies and stuff. But I'm here now! So let's get to it.
As you know from my last blog post, I am a genderqueer/gender-fluid person. I still have to work through what label feels best for me, but on the whole it can be agreed that I am not a girl...most of the time. And those feelings of being in some way wrong have isolated me for what I now realize is a large portion of my life. Of course, my friends are all supportive, and my family trying their best to understand what it means.
But no matter how hard they try or how much they want to understand, they can't. Not my friends, not my family, hell, not even Analyssa. They can't understand because this is something they will never have to go through. They will never have to be afraid of going to their preferred restroom. They will never have to experience people intentionally referring to them by the wrong gender. They won't have to worry about being safe when binding or fearing that their parents will hide their binders (which is a legitimate fear, my mother does my laundry and she's had the hardest time coming to terms with my gender.) They will sympathize, but they will not understand. Not like someone in the trans community can.
I count myself blessed to be at a university that has a trans group. They call themselves the Gender Diverse Aggies, and they are a group dedicated to raising awareness of trans issues and offering support to anyone who falls under the trans flag. I first became aware of this group last semester, but their meetings were every week at 9 in the morning, and I just couldn't find the will to get up that early since my classes were in the afternoon. So, I went to a few meetings here and there before stopping altogether. As such I met only 3 individuals who were trans.
That changed today.
There was a GDA meeting at 4:00, and I went because it was in the afternoon and I wanted to be a part of the group again. Lo and behold, there were 8 people at the meeting today. It may not seem like a lot, but for me it was. They were all so nice and friendly, and I felt welcomed. It felt like a place I could call home. These people, they understand me. They know the pain, the confusion, the hate, and lived to see a brighter day. It's so inspiring, and it filled me with hope because these were potential friends that would understand my struggles and support me through them. These people can become my safe place when life gets to be too much.
And maybe I'm placing too much faith into them. After all, it's not group therapy. They don't meet to hash out personal issues. But maybe I can find real friends there, people who will understand when I complain about my binder being itchy and hard to get off. Maybe I'll find people who will agree with my desire for gender neutral bathrooms. Maybe I'll find people who will know my fear of coming out.
Maybe I won't feel so alone anymore.
I have hope.
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Monday, January 2, 2017
Lets talk
So, today I thought I would write about something that affects me daily: dysphoria.
As a trans* person, I often find that I experience dysphoria in regards to my chest, my period, and my voice. I may not be a trans-man, but I do fall under the trans flag because I do not feel female often enough to own the label "woman" despite being assigned female at birth. I'm still in the process of figuring out what exactly I am, but I have the rest of my life to develop my identity. At the moment I am swinging between genderqueer and gender-fluid, but I am considering the term non-binary.
Anywho, that tangent was besides the point. I'm here to talk about the things about my body that can tear me down. One thing is my chest. I may only have A cups, but they are large enough that wearing a well-fitted shirt leads others to assume that I am female. Of course, half of the time I don't mind, but the other half, hearing people call me "she" and "miss" hurts. I know that it shouldn't, that I should be confident enough in my own identity, but hearing those words reminds me of the words my mom has told me as I've been exploring my gender: "You have what you have! God gave you boobs!" or "God made you a girl!"
And it hurts. It hurts to be reminded that I am not right.
Anyway, despite all the comments my mother makes, I have purchased a chest binder so that my chest is flatter when I wear it. The binder has really helped me out, and it's a safe way to flatten my chest without injuring myself. So, coupled with my haircut, my flat chest allows me to walk around outside and have people call me "sir" and "man" and "he." And God, does it feel great.
Now, on to my period. That week is the worst. And I know what I go through is mild compared to other people who have a uterus, but it's just another reminder that I am a "girl." In fact, it's the ultimate reminder that I am biologically female. I feel uncomfortable, and I have to wear panties in place of my usual boxers, and it is just an overall unpleasant experience that I have learned to deal with. I don't like it, but I'm the only one that knows what goes on in my pants, so I will deal with it for as long as I have to.
My voice is the only thing about me that I still feel a lot of dysphoria about. My chest and my period I can get around, because I have found solutions and ways of thinking to combat the dysphoria. But my voice is the one thing I can't really change without hormones. While my voice is lower than most of my female friends, it is still high enough that people who first address me as "sir" will correct themselves upon hearing me speak. This always leaves me feeling disappointed and discouraged, which can lead to darker thoughts. I have an example.
Recently I went to Savers to find an interesting tie, and this woman - who was with her young son - asked me if I knew where a certain section was. I blurted out an awkward "I don't work here!" and the woman gave me a look and then walked away. As she passed me by, her son looked at me and told his mom "He looks like a boy but sounds like a girl." His words felt like a rock on my chest, and I went to the dressing room to compose myself. I didn't cry or anything, but I had to calm myself down because all those dark feelings were bubbling up. I know that my reaction was an overreaction, but it reminded me that my voice will never get deeper without the help of hormones. The only time the opposite of this happened was when I had to call my cell provider to work out an issue with my phone. The guy on the phone called me sir until he pulled up my information and then apologized. Even though he corrected himself, I was ecstatic because it was the first time that had happened, and it made me happy.
There are only three people who know that I feel these things, and only one of them knows everything. But now I suppose whoever reads this knows too. I didn't want to get too much into the actual feelings so much as the cause of them, because those feelings are dark and I can't shake them when I write about them. And, seeing as how it's getting late as I write this, I wouldn't have emotional support, and I don't want to go to bed thinking all those awful things. So, that may be a post for another day. Or maybe it won't. I haven't decided if I want to share them with the internet, even if only like two people still read this blog.
So, that was me, talking about myself like the little weirdo I am.
As a trans* person, I often find that I experience dysphoria in regards to my chest, my period, and my voice. I may not be a trans-man, but I do fall under the trans flag because I do not feel female often enough to own the label "woman" despite being assigned female at birth. I'm still in the process of figuring out what exactly I am, but I have the rest of my life to develop my identity. At the moment I am swinging between genderqueer and gender-fluid, but I am considering the term non-binary.
Anywho, that tangent was besides the point. I'm here to talk about the things about my body that can tear me down. One thing is my chest. I may only have A cups, but they are large enough that wearing a well-fitted shirt leads others to assume that I am female. Of course, half of the time I don't mind, but the other half, hearing people call me "she" and "miss" hurts. I know that it shouldn't, that I should be confident enough in my own identity, but hearing those words reminds me of the words my mom has told me as I've been exploring my gender: "You have what you have! God gave you boobs!" or "God made you a girl!"
And it hurts. It hurts to be reminded that I am not right.
Anyway, despite all the comments my mother makes, I have purchased a chest binder so that my chest is flatter when I wear it. The binder has really helped me out, and it's a safe way to flatten my chest without injuring myself. So, coupled with my haircut, my flat chest allows me to walk around outside and have people call me "sir" and "man" and "he." And God, does it feel great.
Now, on to my period. That week is the worst. And I know what I go through is mild compared to other people who have a uterus, but it's just another reminder that I am a "girl." In fact, it's the ultimate reminder that I am biologically female. I feel uncomfortable, and I have to wear panties in place of my usual boxers, and it is just an overall unpleasant experience that I have learned to deal with. I don't like it, but I'm the only one that knows what goes on in my pants, so I will deal with it for as long as I have to.
My voice is the only thing about me that I still feel a lot of dysphoria about. My chest and my period I can get around, because I have found solutions and ways of thinking to combat the dysphoria. But my voice is the one thing I can't really change without hormones. While my voice is lower than most of my female friends, it is still high enough that people who first address me as "sir" will correct themselves upon hearing me speak. This always leaves me feeling disappointed and discouraged, which can lead to darker thoughts. I have an example.
Recently I went to Savers to find an interesting tie, and this woman - who was with her young son - asked me if I knew where a certain section was. I blurted out an awkward "I don't work here!" and the woman gave me a look and then walked away. As she passed me by, her son looked at me and told his mom "He looks like a boy but sounds like a girl." His words felt like a rock on my chest, and I went to the dressing room to compose myself. I didn't cry or anything, but I had to calm myself down because all those dark feelings were bubbling up. I know that my reaction was an overreaction, but it reminded me that my voice will never get deeper without the help of hormones. The only time the opposite of this happened was when I had to call my cell provider to work out an issue with my phone. The guy on the phone called me sir until he pulled up my information and then apologized. Even though he corrected himself, I was ecstatic because it was the first time that had happened, and it made me happy.
There are only three people who know that I feel these things, and only one of them knows everything. But now I suppose whoever reads this knows too. I didn't want to get too much into the actual feelings so much as the cause of them, because those feelings are dark and I can't shake them when I write about them. And, seeing as how it's getting late as I write this, I wouldn't have emotional support, and I don't want to go to bed thinking all those awful things. So, that may be a post for another day. Or maybe it won't. I haven't decided if I want to share them with the internet, even if only like two people still read this blog.
So, that was me, talking about myself like the little weirdo I am.
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
My Life: Chapter 19 - College
So, I know it's kinda late to be writing this, considering how far into the semester we are, but I figured, why not?
College has been interesting thus far. I've made some friends, my classes have been manageable, and I've even had some semblance of a social life. All pluses, in my opinion. But it's also had its downsides. I feel isolated here. Yeah, I participate in activities and I do things around campus, but I'm away from my family and my best friend. I don't know how to connect with people on a meaningful level. Usually I put my mask on when I walk out of the door and leave it there until I'm either back in the safety of my dorm room or at home. The days just blur into each other, and I can't find the will to stop and just take everything in. It's too hard to anchor myself in the constant stream of day-to-day life, but I need to. My sanity depends on it.
Wow. That was some heavy stuff right there. I'm sorry about that. I guess I was holding it in longer than I thought, and it came rushing out as soon as my fingers hit the keys. So, to lighten the mood, let me tell you about all of the cool things I've been doing. Most recently, Analyssa and I worked at this food drive event called The Haunted Howl. Basically, you bring a can of food to donate and go around to a bunch of booths and play games to get candy and other such treats. It was really cool, except that our booth didn't have a game for the kids to play. So, we just handed out candy (lame, I know, but if I was a kid I would have loved it. No fuss, just candy.) Anyway, that was fun, especially because we got to hang out with some cool girls from our Exito class.
to be continued...
College has been interesting thus far. I've made some friends, my classes have been manageable, and I've even had some semblance of a social life. All pluses, in my opinion. But it's also had its downsides. I feel isolated here. Yeah, I participate in activities and I do things around campus, but I'm away from my family and my best friend. I don't know how to connect with people on a meaningful level. Usually I put my mask on when I walk out of the door and leave it there until I'm either back in the safety of my dorm room or at home. The days just blur into each other, and I can't find the will to stop and just take everything in. It's too hard to anchor myself in the constant stream of day-to-day life, but I need to. My sanity depends on it.
Wow. That was some heavy stuff right there. I'm sorry about that. I guess I was holding it in longer than I thought, and it came rushing out as soon as my fingers hit the keys. So, to lighten the mood, let me tell you about all of the cool things I've been doing. Most recently, Analyssa and I worked at this food drive event called The Haunted Howl. Basically, you bring a can of food to donate and go around to a bunch of booths and play games to get candy and other such treats. It was really cool, except that our booth didn't have a game for the kids to play. So, we just handed out candy (lame, I know, but if I was a kid I would have loved it. No fuss, just candy.) Anyway, that was fun, especially because we got to hang out with some cool girls from our Exito class.
to be continued...
Friday, August 12, 2016
Friendship and other things that confuse me
I've always struggled with being honest. That isn't to say every sentence out of my mouth is a lie; rather, I find it hard to be honest about myself. Usually I just go with the flow, staying silent and in the background. I don't open up, despite my easy-going appearance. I mean, it's kinda hard for me to do so. For most of my life I was always with my sister when I was with friends. Her personality outshines my own, dominating the conversation. And for the longest time, I was fine with that. I don't like talking, especially about me. For goodness sake, the hardest essay I ever had to write was my personal statement! I don't know how to talk about myself because for the most part I've never had to and I never wanted to. Now though, I'm beginning to think differently.
I find myself constantly doubting my friendships, believing that the only reason they are even friends with me is because of Analyssa. On really bad days I compare myself to her. I think about how she is a much better friend than I ever could be, how all of our friends always go to her for serious discussions or just fun conversations, never me. I think about how all of my friends aren't really my friends, just her friends that tolerate me. I think about all of her friends that aren't my friends, and how I don't have any friends that are just mine. I want to break free, to find my own friends, to be who I really am. But I'm terrified that, in doing so, I will lose the friends that I currently have.
I don't know. I'm insecure. I know I shouldn't be. I know that I have people who love me. I know that I have people who accept me. But I've never shown them who I really am. I'm not this kind, sweet, smart person that they think I am. I'm snarky. I say things before thinking about them, often insulting whoever I'm talking about. I have a morbid sense of humor, I hate a lot of people, and I say things at inappropriate times. I can be a bitch one moment and a sweetheart the next. I'm complicated and messy and opinionated and shallow. I'm smart and curious and clueless and boring. I'm so many things that people don't see because I never gave them the chance to see. But maybe that can change. Maybe I can be a little more open with people. Or maybe I'll be lonely for a while until someone sees me. Who knows.
I find myself constantly doubting my friendships, believing that the only reason they are even friends with me is because of Analyssa. On really bad days I compare myself to her. I think about how she is a much better friend than I ever could be, how all of our friends always go to her for serious discussions or just fun conversations, never me. I think about how all of my friends aren't really my friends, just her friends that tolerate me. I think about all of her friends that aren't my friends, and how I don't have any friends that are just mine. I want to break free, to find my own friends, to be who I really am. But I'm terrified that, in doing so, I will lose the friends that I currently have.
I don't know. I'm insecure. I know I shouldn't be. I know that I have people who love me. I know that I have people who accept me. But I've never shown them who I really am. I'm not this kind, sweet, smart person that they think I am. I'm snarky. I say things before thinking about them, often insulting whoever I'm talking about. I have a morbid sense of humor, I hate a lot of people, and I say things at inappropriate times. I can be a bitch one moment and a sweetheart the next. I'm complicated and messy and opinionated and shallow. I'm smart and curious and clueless and boring. I'm so many things that people don't see because I never gave them the chance to see. But maybe that can change. Maybe I can be a little more open with people. Or maybe I'll be lonely for a while until someone sees me. Who knows.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Writing Prompt
It shouldn't be like this. There has to be another way...
"What are you waiting for?"
No. I don't want this. I never wanted this...
"Answer me!"
I can't. I can't I can't I can't I-
"God dammit Charlie just do it! Prove me right! We both know how much you want to."
You're wrong...
"You can't run away from this forever. This lives inside you; it will always live inside you."
But -
"Do it."
...
Bang!
_________________________________________________________________
"...white female. middle to late 20s, single shot to the head. Revolver still in hand. No obvious signs of struggle. Liver temp indicates she died approximately 5 hours ago. Apparent suicide is my official ruling."
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
On the topic of friends
Having friends is weird. You're expected to listen to your friend's problems and expect them to listen to yours when the time comes. Hang outs are required, gossip is to be shared, and discussions are to be held (at least, they are in my group of friends.) But it all feels so foreign to me. I don't mind listening to my friends' problems; in fact, I love listening to my friends and giving them advice. I'm just a listener though. If my friend doesn't have anything to say then chances are an awkward silence is sure to follow. I just don't feel the need to fill the void. Some of my friends share my sentiments; others do not. There are a few who need the silence to be filled, who need background noise all the time. I'm not used to that.
I'm not the kind of person who shares my feelings. I may seem open, but often I put on an act. I like keeping my thoughts and feelings inside, because why bother expressing them? Nobody is going to listen, not really. They hear the words but very few process them. The only person I can honestly talk to is myself. I can talk to my twin sister, but I don't show her everything. I have yet to be completely honest about myself with any of my friends. I just don't see the point. They don't need to deal with my neurotic crap or my emotional baggage, so why should I show them? That has always been my line of thinking.
Now I face a dilemma of sorts. I want a closer relationship with one of my friends, one who I consider my best friend. And no, I don't want to pursue a romantic relationship with her. I just want to see if I mean as much to her as she means to me. But I don't know how to get that conversation started. I've never felt enough for her. I know that I can trust her with my secrets, but secrets are different than feelings. It's like pulling teeth trying to get me to really open up, and it's hard to determine if she's ever really tried or if I was just so desperate for someone to see me that I gave myself over to her. I've never clicked with someone as well as I did with her. We think on the same wavelength and are both romantic souls. We have enough differences that we always have something to discuss. Like I said, I consider her my best friend.
This post went all over the place, but the point that I set out to make was that I don't feel comfortable sharing myself with anyone, but I want to try for my best friend. I just have no idea how to do that. It's hard to overcome the notion that your feelings and opinions don't matter. And even if I could somehow be comfortable with people knowing things about me, how would I even start? I'm so confused right now and unsure of how to proceed. All I know is that, for the first time, I want to try to be open. I want to be honest. Let's see how this works out, shall we?
I'm not the kind of person who shares my feelings. I may seem open, but often I put on an act. I like keeping my thoughts and feelings inside, because why bother expressing them? Nobody is going to listen, not really. They hear the words but very few process them. The only person I can honestly talk to is myself. I can talk to my twin sister, but I don't show her everything. I have yet to be completely honest about myself with any of my friends. I just don't see the point. They don't need to deal with my neurotic crap or my emotional baggage, so why should I show them? That has always been my line of thinking.
Now I face a dilemma of sorts. I want a closer relationship with one of my friends, one who I consider my best friend. And no, I don't want to pursue a romantic relationship with her. I just want to see if I mean as much to her as she means to me. But I don't know how to get that conversation started. I've never felt enough for her. I know that I can trust her with my secrets, but secrets are different than feelings. It's like pulling teeth trying to get me to really open up, and it's hard to determine if she's ever really tried or if I was just so desperate for someone to see me that I gave myself over to her. I've never clicked with someone as well as I did with her. We think on the same wavelength and are both romantic souls. We have enough differences that we always have something to discuss. Like I said, I consider her my best friend.
This post went all over the place, but the point that I set out to make was that I don't feel comfortable sharing myself with anyone, but I want to try for my best friend. I just have no idea how to do that. It's hard to overcome the notion that your feelings and opinions don't matter. And even if I could somehow be comfortable with people knowing things about me, how would I even start? I'm so confused right now and unsure of how to proceed. All I know is that, for the first time, I want to try to be open. I want to be honest. Let's see how this works out, shall we?
Friday, July 22, 2016
Tired
I feel stuck. It's summer and I have been busy for most of it, but I feel like I can't move. I have no idea where I'm going, but it doesn't matter because I can't get there anyway. I don't know why I feel like this. I mean, really, change is happening all around me. I just graduated, I'll start college this fall, and I'm working this summer. And yet, I can't help feeling like I'm just going through the motions, seeing what's happening in my life but not really experiencing it.
I've felt like this since senior year started. Days blur together because everyday is the same. Time is passing me by but I can't even begin to make myself care. I'm terrified of my future, that I'm gonna mess it up and fail and screw myself over. I always screw everything up, why should this be any different?
I'm sorry for this angsty post, I'm usually more collected than this, but I start college in less than a month. I suppose I'm just freaking out. Anywho, have a good weekend!
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