I started this blog with the intention of using it to keep an account of my evolving gender-journey, so I could look back later and remember all the funny/cool/weird moments that usually fall by the memory-wayside. (And also because all the cool kids were doing it and I wanted to play, too.) But it turns out that I’m really bad about writing what I’m struggling with, because I don’t like to throw it out there half-formed and conclusionless. I want a concrete result before I let it go dancing in front of an audience.
Control freak much?
But radio silence is boring for you and bad for me, because evolution can’t happen in a box. And going round and round with the same ideas in my head is just going to tip me off a ledge.
So here’s the skinny: I don’t identify as female anymore. And to be honest, I haven’t in a while. I just haven’t had the backbone to admit it to myself. Even going back through this journal was a revelation — sure, there’s a whole lot of butch musings, but the really joyful moments were realizing I could use whatever pronouns I wanted, that embracing masculinity was A-okay and sexy to boot, that it wasn’t the rebellion of mixing male-mannerisms and female-body and making something new that I wanted, it was just being male.
Which, yeah, I know, is mono-gendered and buying into the binary (and the patriarchy) and probably unenlightened, but fuck it. I’m tired of binding myself breathless and living in an awkward half-space. I want the chest-surgery, and maybe the hormones, and the ‘sir’ that people give me to feel like it’s right, not like something I’ve managed to steal. I want to explore the idea of being a transman. I want to be a brother and a son, not a daughter and a sister. (Though that’s sure going to freak out the family.)
I want to keep writing, too, whether in this blog — which could probably use a rename, now — or a new one for the fresh start. And I want to keep all you fabulous folk around, but I’ll get it if some of you feel the need to jump ship. (Except, no, that’s a lie. I WILL BITCH YOU OUT LIKE HELL, ACTUALLY. And I will feel good doing it. How’s that for a healthy ego?*)
So here’s me, coming out.
Anyone feel like throwing a party?
*On the re-read, that’s a heck of a lot more asshole-ish than it originally sounded. Who knew an ego could get you in trouble? /wry