Hey, It’s Me: They/ He

While I was never a consistent writer, I must acknowledge that I have really slacked off. For that, readers, I must apologize. There were a couple of blog articles that I had begun and simply could not bring myself to finish as of yet. I suppose the time wasn’t right for them to come to fruition. All of that said, I do feel a calling to write an update of sorts. I have been dealing with, among the usual ebbs and flows of life, some inner work that needed done regarding my identity. One aspect of that is still too raw for me to discuss here, but another wants to be said.

In the past, I have discussed my gender on this blog. I believe that the last thing I mentioned regarding who I am in terms of gender is that I’m non-binary. But, that may have been before I became sure that I wanted to drop she/her pronouns. I’m they/them, leaning toward he/him. Feminine pronouns and language directed toward me has become increasingly uncomfortable for me. Truthfully, it’s not an entirely new revelation. It’s more that the recent development is my acknowledgement of my feelings.

Ever since I was a child, being called a “girl” and “she/her” felt wrong. I pushed it under the rug, largely because I didn’t have the language or support to understand why I felt that way. I was a bit of a tomboy who didn’t quite understand why it was that I couldn’t be more like boys. As a teenager, I had found some of that language and questioned whether I might be a trans boy. Yet, I was still missing some of the language and any of the support I needed in order to further explore who I was.

Enter my twenties: This was in the 2010’s, when more information regarding nonbinary genders was become easier to happen across online. Something about that clicked with me. And yet, and yet… It took until I was about to turn thirty before I was able to allow myself to fully accept that I really am not a cisgender woman.

Pretending to be a woman was easier than facing the task of coming out as nonbinary. It hurt, but that pain of pushing who I am down was easier than telling people who I feared may reject me. Or so, I thought it was easier. Eventually, I had to stop playing the ill-fitting role that I was assigned.

At first, I only told those who were close to me, who I trusted. As is the case for most in the LGBTQIA+ community. Then, I slowly started updating my pronouns on social media and even started openly discussing it here and there online. I was becoming more confident in accepting and exploring who I am. I tried on the label of genderfluid, which fit like a comfy sweater. But there was a hole in that sweater. Something was missing and, any time I tried to express femininity in my appearance, I felt wrong all over again.

Just over a month ago, after many months of deliberation, I started T. I cannot express how freeing taking this step has already been. I now feel ready to say that I am transmasc nonbinary. (To be clear, medical transition of any sort is not required to be transmasc. Testosterone has only given me the push I needed.) I finally came out at work. I think the genderfluid label might still fit me, but I do definitely lean more toward the transmasc side of things. Perhaps, once I can pass as a guy more easily, I will become comfortable with presenting with femininity again. If so, I suspect it would be because then, I will not always be automatically seen as a woman by outsiders. I will be more free to express myself as a genderqueer person.

I am finally becoming more comfortable with myself. And, though I know I still have a long way to go, I am beginning to understand what it means to love oneself.

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Somewhere In Between

There’s this song by Poppy that I feel down to my bones when I hear it. It’s called Am I A Girl?

“Am I a girl? What does that even mean? I’m somewhere in between”.

Poppy, Am I A Girl

The lyrics discuss both binary gender expectations and gender fluidity in a way that’s not often seen in music. It feels good to listen to because it’s so relatable for someone like me.

Sometimes I’m feminine. Sometimes I’m masculine. Don’t evaluate me as woman or man

Poppy, Am I A Girl

There is so much truth for me in the lines of this song. As a genderfluid person, my gender is… well, fluid. Sometimes I’m a woman, sometimes I’m somewhere in between, sometimes I’m a guy. I am always nonbinary.

Being nonbinary in a society that typically only recognizes binary genders feels so weird. In a previous post, I mentioned how it feels almost alien to be grey-ace in this society. Yeah, that feeling is the same in terms of my gender, too.

The nonbinary label covers many different gender labels and can be considered part of the transgender umbrella. Not all nonbinary people identify as trans, for various reasons. Because of this, a new term has also been coined to cover nonbinary people: metagender. I do acknowledge that I am technically transgender, but I also feel like the label doesn’t quite fit me. There’s still a lot of binary expectations with being transgender and I don’t see that experience as my own. At the same time, I wholly believe that nonbinary people should be accepted by the transgender community. Even binary trans people will have different experiences, after all, and we are all different genders than what we were assigned at birth (in simpler words – not cisgender).

Each nonbinary person’s experience is going to be different. There are just so many ways to exist, not only as nonbinary, but as a human in general.

I’m AFAB. I still use she/her (as well as they/them and sometimes he/him). I still present sometimes as femme – makeup, leggings, a dress on more rare occasions. As a parent who gave birth, I still go by “momma” and am very attached to “motherhood” as a label. I also prefer more gender neutral, androgynous, or sometimes masculine presentation. I feel euphoric when people can’t figure out if I’m “a boy or a girl” or when they code me as a guy after seeing me. (Unfortunately, they usually “correct” themselves after hearing my voice.) At the same time, as a feminist and someone who is AFAB, it pisses me off when people use their outdated preconceptions about binary gender roles to assume that my job (or any, really) is being done by a man. Likewise, I get frustrated when people code me as a man because of my gender neutral birth name (I love my name – just can’t stand people who insist it’s a boy name). In these cases, I would prefer to be assumed a woman rather than a man. Fuck the patriarchy and all that, heh.

Some nonbinary people choose to medically transition, to various degrees, but I’m still not sure how I feel about it for myself. I hate how high my speaking voice is, I love that I can hit some higher notes when singing. I love my feminine curves and breasts sometimes, I prefer to wear a binder and baggy shirt when I feel dysphoric about my body. Making a choice to alter my body, even with a low doses of hormones, is an enormous decision that I’m not yet ready to make.

I’m out as nonbinary, but not OUT out. I don’t mention it to those in my life who I know wouldn’t accept it. I don’t push it or correct the language anyone uses for me. Being coded as a woman (mostly) doesn’t bother me much. Still, I feel a shift in me that’s growing more and more frustrated with the binary thinking of this society that I live in. Masculine? Feminine? What does that even mean? I’m somewhere in between.

My Truth Is Grey II

If you’re following my page over on Facebook, you may have already seen this post:

For years off and on, I’ve questioned my gender identity. At some point, it must have been recent, I’ve begun thinking of myself more and more as genderfluid/ nonbinary instead of questioning it. I still mostly consider myself a woman, but I now feel like I’m ready to accept that sometimes I am also a guy and sometimes I’m both/ neither. I will still be using she/her pronouns.
Obviously, this changes nothing about who I am. This is simply a fun fact like, “I just found out that I really like cake”.

If not, you just did. Before I made that little announcement, I had set my gender as “genderfluid” when I was setting up my PaganSpace account. I hadn’t even thought about it or registered fully that I was officially accepting this gender identity until afterward. If you read The Conundrum of Gender from a while back, it’s possible that you saw this coming from a mile way.

Gender identity is a complicated topic. You always have the “penis = man, vagina = woman” people who probably aren’t going to be convinced that it’s more complicated than their brains can handle. Then, there’s still difficulty even in parts of the LGBTQA+ community to accept genderfluid and nonbinary identities. Apparently, people like us “give ‘real’ transgender people” a bad name. Huh. Because apparently struggling with one’s gender and then finally finding self acceptance can be a bad thing. [/endsarcasm]

Despite feeling comfortable admitting to myself that I am genderfluid, I feel that this is still a strange period. What do I do with this realization? I’m not a transman, despite feeling more like a guy sometimes, so a route based on that won’t work for me. Not that I’m necessarily complaining. I understand that hormonal transitioning FtM can be a complicated stage filled with many mixed emotions.
I am still choosing to use female pronouns. It’s just easier for me. It’s not like I’m going out and telling everyone I know that I’m genderfluid, anyway. There’s a benefit to being assigned female at birth presenting masculine, in that modern society typically often views that as tomboy-ish. I am privileged to be able to hide in plain sight like that.
Another worry I have is wondering if this could affect my marriage down the road somehow. But, my spouse is already aware that I’ve questioned my gender and has often half jokingly pointed out that I am more man than woman sometimes. Maybe I have nothing to worry about in that regard.

The only thing that I know for sure regarding this is that I feel what I feel. Sometimes I am a woman. Sometimes I am a man. Sometimes I am neither or both. I guess saying, “My Truth Is Grey” is true in more ways than I realized. This changes nothing beyond my acceptance for these parts of me.

[Update: 4/2/2022

Since writing this, my pronouns have changed to they/them.]