It’s one of those days where you wake up and you just want the problem to go away. And another day of watching Friends, even though I have to admit I’ve seen them all before >_<
So I look at this word, genderfluid, if I don’t perceive myself as my body sex, then does it have to be one or the other? Well no, but it’s a confusing spectrum, and I have to understand my place on it, without jumping to the conclusions I impulsively think and then repress.
Perhaps I do need medication (not really), definitely some serious counselling. I don’t know if it’s an enforced male ego, or the truth of who I am, but I’m just not that much into girly things…I think. It’s a serious paradox, to think strange thoughts like I’d be a female crossdresser or something equally messed up. Yet when Rachel gets pregnant I’m close to tears, when Pheobe puts on a wedding veil I feel uncomfortable.
I just went to the shop with my hair in a ‘feminine’ part, and a flower on the bobble. When I open my mouth to speak, I hear horror. A young scallybag gives me a laugh, so what? People have laughed at my long hair for years, jealous of my ultimate heavy metal awesome. Men have had long hair as standard for a lot more of human history than they’ve had it short. Forgive the generalisations.
So, I guess today is a repression day. When I dress up as supposedly female, it’s not the way I would want to dress, it seems like it’s simply for the reassurance that this is me that I have to go that far. I don’t know what I want.. I’m aware, rational, just thoroughly confused, and I should be, you can’t face over twenty years of repression in two weeks, it’s a process.
Now I just have to prevent myself going out looking overly androgynous…but…..why? What does it have anything to do with?! Does it have to do with the way I look like a guy or dress like a guy that I must be a guy?!?! Aaarrgghh!
I have so much better to do with my time, money and body. Life, career, adventures, all the good stuff, and yet stuck on such old stupid crap! No offence to anyone, I’m still not getting why I would have to be something I’m……ah dammit. Says the person whom with baited breath watches the experiences of transgender women, and feels that cold, cold, dread of repression and fear.
Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!
I want my life back!
I’m off to a small gathering at a friends in a few minutes, the parting in my hair is the same, I have this lovely girls coat, my flower bobble, a layer of foundation and some concealer. Funny how I’m more worried about wearing glasses with no lenses, gee, think I could maybe look silly?
Off I go, to throw sand into the eyes of my own life. No regrets! (Until the regret sinks in). Arrrggghhhh!!