This was a hard blog post to find and read again after so many years. It’s difficult to think back on this painful time of intense identity crisis. And it was definitely a legit crisis for me.
I’m not sure why I feel compelled to share this again here. I mean, why am I digging it all up again?
I knew I had to get help back then, and I did, eventually…
It’s interesting, now, looking back on who I was, then—without judgement, mostly, and with forgiveness and compassion… Mostly.
I guess that’s where healing really starts.
I was 31 years old in 2007, when I first wrote the post below, and it was still three long years before I’d finally be able to start my process of social, physical, and medical transition…
This is a bit long and rambling, and it’s FULL of fears about ALL the unknown things ahead of me…
Originally written & published in October, 2007.
I can’t seem to stop thinking tonight. So, I figured maybe if I let my brain purge some of this rattle from my head via my hands, typing it all here—it might do me some good.
Hope it works… Here we go…
I’ve been consumed with never-ending thoughts about three very different issues over the past days…
Number 3/3 is the thing that haunts me…
It’s the thing I’ve wanted to write about forever, but I never really knew how/where/why to start.
It confuses me. It angers me. (And did I say it confuses me?) It fucking confuses the hell out of me… I don’t even know how to begin processing this realization…
I always thought that my existence—all of my confusion. My anger. My perpetual quest for acceptance and peace and understanding. My longing for self-discovery. And ultimately, my hunger for love and acceptance and validation…
Oh and forgiveness (especially regarding my sexuality)—I thought THAT was the biggest struggle I would ever face in my lifetime… ha.
Now, for the first time ever, I’m realizing, there is a VERY likely possibility that I’ve been struggling against the wrong issue altogether.
In fact, maybe I’ve been jumping the wrong hurdles my entire life…
I’ve always known that I was more masculine than feminine.
The fact that I grew up labeled a tomboy and cycled through androgyny; flew straight into adult life as butch lesbian; and now, settled (albeit, rather uncomfortably), as a 30-something, genX genderqueer who’s slowly embracing the hyper–accepting nature of these “kids” today and their evolved genY(and beyond) attitudes towards sexuality/gender—as well as, their fancy new names & terminology and ease and ability to breakdown and build-upon those g’damn gender boxes.
(whew)
I don’t know if I can or would ever take The Next Step in this hurdle race.
Honestly, it scares the hell out of me, and I’m not even sure what the next step would be (for me).
I know there are a lot of options, and no one does it the same way.
I know I’m rambling here… I can’t possibly be making any sense.
I DON’T know why, in spite of all my efforts, I’m censoring myself as I write this…
This just really fucking sucks.
I mean, I haven’t even been able to come out to my parents as a lesbian! How can I possibly open THIS can o’ worms?
I’ve spent all these years—a LIFETIME of years—beating myself up and condemning myself and feeling SO alone and scared and pissed-off—ALL because of my perceived sexuality and ALL the inner issues and heartache it’s caused me in my life.
All of that… Just—freakin’ YEARS of that…
Years of feeling betrayed by my God and fearful of losing my family…
ANGRY at the person I am and confused because I never felt like I had a “choice”…
Years.
And now… NOW, at 31 years old—I have this crazy epiphany.
A potentially LIFE CHANGING EPIPHANY…
I had the realization that maybe, just MAYBE, my sexual orientation was NEVER my issue.
Maybe I’ve never been gay, and maybe I’m not a lesbian at all.
Maybe the source of my inner-struggle should have been focused on my gender instead of my sexuality…
Maybe it’s not my sexual orientation at all. Maybe it’s my SEX (or gender expression?) at the source of all this discomfort inside my skin.
So, what the hell do I do with that information now?
I feel so detached from my body (and still, terribly lonely).
I mean, don’t get me wrong—this whole thing—all of the thoughts and self-discussions and prayer that’ve gone into this realization have also, somehow, left me feeling… Justified.
Because somehow, now, everything makes sense—my whole life makes more sense.
I’ve labeled myself “gay” since the day I realized all the ways that boys and girls and our attractions are different and/or the same.
I’ve never wanted or appreciated any girly things (for myself), ever. Other than the attraction I feel FOR OTHERS who are expressing femininity.
Of all of my previous relationships, I’ve only once ever fallen dated one (ONE!) lesbian…
Okay, two… Maybe? Depending on your definition…
I’ve always wanted to be the hero/father/doctor/boyfriend/husband.
I’ve always hated my (female) body.
Straight sex fascinates me; I’d much prefer that to lesbian sex, but err—with a woman, not with a man. AS a man. WITH a woman.
I’ve never *really* been a “proper” lesbian, at all.
I’m not a man-hater. I’m just jealous of what they are. Then I get pissed off because they have or get to have what I want in terms of their body and relationships, yet (in my eyes) they’re often “undeserving”…
Unfortunately, that’s from the eyes of someone biological “female” or assigned the femal label at birth. From someone raised, socially, as a female… Someone who has lived and seen the world through an, albeit skewed, “female(~ish)” view.
While most girls are blinded by a shroud of physical or sexual attraction, I can often see through the (thin) layer of masculine or male charm.
And, of course, I find myself wishing those girls would look MY WAY instead.
Wowza.
Right now, I’m really thinking that I probably won’t even post this… I.. just…
This could just be like so many other posts—sitting unfinished and existing forever, safely inside ‘drafts’.
Part of me thinks if i just did the top surgery…
And maybe focused on defining my own gender box or labels, maybe I could somehow find peace living (LITERALLY) somewhere in-between male and female…?
Maybe I could create my own, comfortable mixture of male and female… ??
Masculine sensibilities wish a splash of my old feminine mystique.
Genderqueer… That’s what the kids are calling it now.
In my day, it was androgynous…
Maybe this is just, androgynousPLUS+++
Maybe it’s really just another box comprised of all the chicken-shits who are afraid of jumping into the only other KNOWN box right now…
Straight guys and straight girls have their boxes.
Lesbian women and gay men are making great strides, and every year we’re closer to having our own, unique sexual-orientation-boxes.
Transmen and transwomen can join with others’ boxes—and either, hold onto their previous (queer?) lives and its struggles and continue to acknowledge their life’s foundation and history and the old LABELS that go with it.
They could stay connected to the LGBT community or they could reject it altogether and conform to a newfound “normal” existence; finally recognized as their intended gender/identity, they could somehow forget altogether the life (and struggles) they’ve left behind.
Since “WE” are not quite comfortable yet with joining THEIR boxes – we settle.
And we try to find comfort in the creation of a, safe, “genderqueer” box.
But I’m not sure I’m really satisfied with that…
AND I’m not sure what that means (for me)…
I DO know i’m scared to death of that next damn hurdle..
Is it a fear that top surgery IS a definite consideration for me at this point?
Is it the realization that, unlike being a lesbian, this is something I could NEVER hide from my family should I ever make that decision to jump?
I’m afraid of not knowing where that line between male/female should/would be for me (or if it should exists at all)…
I’m afraid top surgery won’t be enough.
I’m afraid of becoming someone I don’t know or recognize.
I’m afraid of what I will look like.
I’m afraid of being one of the ones who rejects those past struggles and forgets the previous life they fought so hard to live.
I’m afraid of being hairy and having a receding hairline, should I ever decide to move forward beyond the surgery. I mean, honestly.
There ARE things that I DO like about being female… I mean, but there are definitely more things that I don’t like (I think?). I just don’t know if those things out-way all of my fears.
I’m afraid of being labeled a freak. Part of me would rather just stay in the familiar “freak label” of “lesbo” or “dyke” or “butch” or “queer” than transition into the unknown world of transgender-freak-labels.
I’m afraid of the people who don’t/won’t/can’t understand.
I’m afraid of the people who don’t/won’t/can’t love me when it’s all said and done.
I’m afraid of being alone.
I’m afraid of having to learn “how to be a man”, when woman are all I’ve ever known/been/done/loved/lived or “practiced” being/becoming…
I’m afraid that I’ll still be gay.
I’m afraid I’m too old to change.
I just can’t imagine how my life would be—how it COULD be…
I don’t know if I need it badly enough to say goodbye to the security i know—yet, I don’t know if i can ever find happiness (in/for myself) inside this body.
I’m afraid no one will ever love me—for me—regardless of the body I’m in.
I don’t know what my new name might be. How can anyone ever come to know me as anything else than what I’ve always been?
I don’t think I know how to be a lesbian anymore.
I feel such a like a fraud.
AND I’d also feel like a fraud if i made the leap.
i just wish i didn’t have to be one or the other.
i wish that i could somehow find contentment and peace in this happy little world made up of who I feel I really am…
BUT i really don’t know where that would leave me regarding my orientation…
i’m clearly a lesbian… but not. the only thing that makes me a lesbian is the fact that i’m in a woman’s body… even though i don’t necessarily feel at home in it.
but i don’t know that i would feel at home in a man’s body either.
where does that put me?
it feels like i have so much invested in the gay community.
i’ve spent SO much time finding a way to be okay that i am a lesbian. it’s been my home and my family and my sense of community…
even though now, lesbian is a word doesn’t even feel like it belongs to me…
ugh! not that “straight male” fits either.
i don’t know…
i just feel like i don’t fit anywhere.
my gender has no box.
i’m criss-crossing between sex and sexual orientation and how they mix. and desperately trying to figure out how it all fits together for ME.
i don’t want to be a guy (i mean. i don’t think i do… not enough to jump that hurdle – at least not at this point in my life) and i don’t really want to be a lesbian. I’m NOT a lesbian… except… it seems I am…
Don’t get me wrong – i do NOT want to stop dating women. i just don’t know if i can be with a lesbian. Because she will only see me as, “she”… And not “Me”.
i’m not female enough to be a woman, but i’m not masculine enough, nor do i have the body, to be a man.
i know i love women.
that’s the only thing that i DO know right now…
i just don’t know where to find a woman who’s a match for me.
what with my body issues and the uncertainty regarding the future of my breasts (and let’s face it for a lesbian, that’s kind of a big deal) i just don’t think that makes me a very good match for a woman who wants another woman (which i’m most definitely NOT).
so, that leaves me the women who want men (but they can always just go find a MAN. a ‘real’ one – unless they’re bi or questioning their sexuality, in that case – they’ll undoubtedly be disappointed in their experiment with me since i can’t provide an authentic woman/woman experience. and in any case that’s exactly what it would be for them – an experiment.)
or there’s the (seemingly) small population of women who are genuinely into (stone) butches/gender queer/ftms… in which case, a sex life would be easier, because they would at leaset know what to expect and would be open to experimenting with further blurring of the male/female lines as related to intimacy.
…and i don’t really know when/how MY decision regarding who i am (REALLY) became more about who will find me attractive or want to invest in me on a relationship level… ugh.
i just don’t know what the hell i’m doing/thinking.
i…
i’m running out of clear thoughts.