#He resents the gender norms in his culture and is basically making sure he stays in the “wife” role

[ciderjacks]

Rule #2: The locksmith will not be required to participate in battle

(read this post and this post for more context lol)

[ranseiuniter-archive]

headcanon; Hiroko’s relationship with her mother, Mio. To start, a refresher on Mio’s background: Mio was raised in Valora, the eldest (and only) daughter of the then-warlord who was, at the time, poised to maybe possibly conquer Ransei. (Take a wild guess how that ended up for him.) Her marriage to Osamu was pretty much purely political and though her relationship with Osamu was... alright, all things considered--like they didn’t flat out hate each other which is a good starting point--it probably goes without saying that she didn’t really care about him half as much as she did her children. Under different circumstances things might have been better between them, but ya’know. So there’s that.

Mio’s upbringing as a northern noblewoman, especially in a kingdom as powerful as Valora was at the time, was pretty strict. It’s important to note that she was not raised to be a warlord; she was only somewhat educated in politics, but otherwise purely expected to be married off for political purposes someday. (Her dad was not the best dude. Probably a good thing he didn’t conquer Ransei.) As such, she was under a lot of pressure to be a “proper lady” and act acceptably feminine and such. Naturally, with these values impressed on her for basically all of her life, she did impose these ideas onto Hiroko as she was growing up as well. Which didn’t go so well.

Even when her mother was present, Hiroko’s relationship with her wasn’t always the best. See the reasons mentioned above. Granted, Mio was never harsh about pressuring Hiroko into behaving in a more “ladylike” way, but the pressure was still there, and Hiroko was very much aware of it. From Mio’s perspective, she was simply trying to prepare Hiroko for what she thought would eventually be inevitable. 

Now, granted, at that time, even though Ransei’s culture supported her belief that Hiroshi would be the next Warlord and it was very much possible, Osamu had deliberately not declared either of them Junior Warlord just yet. Given how meek Hiroshi was as a child, for one, Osamu didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on him yet. Or Hiroko either, for that matter. He’d basically been Junior Warlord from the day he was born and wanted his kids to have at least a little freedom from that responsibility for a while. Well, that, and he also wasn’t even officially warlord until around year before Dragnor’s invasion of Aurora. After that point everything was kind of a disaster and naming one of his kids Junior was not his first priority. Basically, Mio was getting ahead of herself, but in all fairness, not without reason. She did have the best intentions for Hiroko at heart, but, you know, showed it by trying to push her daughter into toxic social norms. 

Needless to say, Hiroko, who was easily the more outgoing of the twins and often took it upon herself to be the “brave” one to make up for her brother’s fears, did not take to her mother’s expectations very well. Mio was, to her, the parent that scolded and nagged; in her later years, Hiroko would even worry that Mio hadn’t felt Hiroko was good enough for her. So, cool motives, still not perfect parenting. 

To Mio’s credit, she was still a very caring parent otherwise. In fact, she pretty much prioritized her children above everything else. Her family, unfortunately, had a history of complications in childbirth including miscarriages and premature births--Hiroko and Hiroshi were born following at least one miscarriage (and were followed by another somewhere down the line). As her only living children, naturally, Mio was very protective of them and genuinely did want them to have good lives. She did her best, she just had some not-so-great ideas about gender roles due to how she was raised. 

Now, Mio wanting to leave Ransei (or at least Aurora) with her children was one she’d honestly had for quite a while. It first came up in passing following her father’s failure to conquer Ransei and the general disarray he’d left behind in the kingdoms he’d conquered--however, it didn’t become a solid idea until the Dragnor invasion. Given the state Aurora was in, Mio and Osamu did argue back and forth for a time about Mio returning home to Valora with the children, at least until Aurora was more stable. Pretty obvious that didn’t happen, but they did compromise in that Hiroshi and Hiroko ended up staying in Greenleaf for about a month after the immediate aftermath. Not that this really satisfied Mio, as she would continue entertaining the thought of leaving Ransei for the following years. She was unsatisfied with her and her childrens’ life in Aurora, as even as the Warlord’s family they were now not much better off than the rest of the kingdom due to the need to rebuild and ration food and funds. The fact that her children went to bed hungry some evenings was not one she particularly liked. 

The final straw was about three years after the invasion, when Hiroko was kidnapped by an Ignid group looking to destabilize and overthrow the current warlord, Hashiba. Hiroko came home safely, but her return was also used as a bargaining chip to get Ignis a better trade deal with Aurora, despite the fact that Aurora was struggling to afford their current trade deal. Basically, after her daughter being put in immediate danger and Aurora’s situation getting once again worse, Mio had just about had it. Once Hiroko was returned home and they all had some time to recover from the events, Mio confronted Osamu, insisting that she was leaving Ransei with their children.

This spurred a very long - like, well over a month long - argument between them regarding Hiroko and Hiroshi. Mio was, for most of their arguments, very intent upon bringing both of the twins. Osamu had some pretty mixed feelings regarding the whole deal, because while he knew it would ultimately be better for his children outside of Ransei, he also didn’t want to be separated from them and had duty as a Warlord and a member of the Azai line, which was supposedly directly descended from the first Emperor of Ransei, a great point of pride for Aurora, to keep at least one of them around as an heir. Neither of them particularly wanted to separate the twins, both aware it would be better for the two of them if they were together and thus had each other for support, but in the end, it was a compromise they had to live with, because Mio wasn’t leaving both of her children in Ransei.

Now, as a child, Hiroko did not take this well. Part of her feared she wasn’t good enough for her mother, hence why she remained in Ransei. She also had the added pressure of being the only heir and thus by extension Junior Warlord, which meant she now had the expectation of succeeding her father someday. She was very confused, especially without her brother there; half of her family was now gone. Add on top of that Mitsunari’s father being discharged from Osamu’s service and Mitsunari running away from home, the shape of Hiroko’s family changed very drastically in a short amount of time. Then Katsu was still in the process of recovering from his injury about two years prior and learning how to effectively get around now that he was bound to a crutch--meaning he wasn’t really around at the time to support Hiroko as a friend / retainer, either. Hiroko ended up blaming her mother for this and would deeply resent her for years to come.

As an adult, Hiroko’s feelings are a lot more... complicated. She does understand her mother’s reasoning better, but that resentment is very much still there. And as much as she’s happy for her brother, she is jealous that he was able to live a “normal” life while she underwent everything she did back in Ransei. Just the fact that she chose to separate her and Hiroshi over everything else is what bothers her the most, though, especially considering they had no means of communicating with each other over the years. And on the one hand, Hiroko still holds her resentment and feels that if her mother truly cares, she can come back to Ransei and speak to Hiroko. On the other, however, especially after seeing Hiroshi again and in light of her father’s death, she feels a sort of responsibility to try to reconcile with Mio. Whether she genuinely wants to or not, though, she’s still not sure--thus, she’s sort of avoiding it as much as she can for the time being.

[neilmillerne]

{#TransparentTuesday} Boy Jessi + Girl Jessi: What Gender Identity Has to Do With Body Image

Today we’re going to talk about gender.

Something I’ve noticed coming up a LOT in my webinars and coaching calls lately is the question of what it means to be female, and what to do when being “female” doesn’t quite feel right.

Now, I (like you, probably) grew up in a gender binary system. Our options used to be male, female, or “transexual.” Some men liked crossdressing and some lesbians liked looking butch, but gender and sex were basically the same thing and we were expected to like it.

In recent years, culture has changed to reflect a different understanding of gender, and I’ve changed along with it.

It is now widely recognized that sex is assigned at birth based on genitalia, while gender is the identity a person resonates with. That no longer means each person has to check the box next to “male” or “female,” either.

We have only begun to scratch the surface of recognizing intersex people, non-binary individuals, gender-fluid and gender-queer people, and more.

Gender identity and gender expression have created a whole new landscape for us to consider ourselves, our identities, and our bodies, as well as our beliefs about how things “should” be and where we have hang-ups. (Note: If you find this whole conversation ridiculous, offensive, or annoying, I humbly suggest you have some major hangups.)

So what does this new gender landscape have to do with body image?

Fucking EVERYTHING.

When I look back on my life, having been born into an unambiguously female body, I can see that the vast majority of my personal body shame and hatred came from the fact that I did not want to be female.

I had an older brother, and I was always EXTREMELY aware of how differently we were treated. From a very young age,I felt existentially cheated, and angry. He could run and show off and be difficult and get dirty and be forgiven for being an entitled dick sometimes (sorry Ben), while I was expected to be helpful, nice, calm, pretty, and polite.

Before I could even read or write I was aware that being a boy was indisputably better, and being a girl was indisputably worse. I was mad that I had to be a girl just because my stupid body said so, and I was mad that everyone treated me like one as if they couldn’t tell it didn’t suit me.

Questions I’ve asked myself a lot, as I process this experience within our new non-binary gender landscape:

How much of my resentment came from living in a sexist patriarchy, and how much was my inherent gender identity?

How much of my resentment came from an intuitive (and accurate) understanding that girls are more vulnerable targets, and that I was unsafe?

I’ll never know the answers.

My parents didn’t buy into gender roles the way some people did, thank goodness, so many of the messages I got about gender roles came from elsewhere, but they came nonetheless. My parents proudly empowered me to do and be whatever I wanted, which was great, but what I wanted was to be a boy, and that wasn’t on the table.

Examining and choosing my own gender identity wasn’t an option at the time. So a girl I stayed, and then I hit puberty and became a “woman” and I hated every fucking second of it.

I hated my breasts. I hated my vagina and the fact that I had periods and could get pregnant and had to take birth control. I hated that I was supposed to like girly stuff and supposed to want to get married and grow babies inside my body (NO THANK YOU) and generally just be something I wasn’t.

I hated the gross attention from men.

I hated the unfairness of how we females got treated, and the stories from history of how women had to work so hard to convince everyone that we were worthy of the vote, or physically capable of running a marathon. I hated that even today sexism and misogyny are alive and well, but also completely invisible to most straight men, who have the privilege of not being affected by it.

I hated how boys were taught to be entitled dicks whose only job in life was to convince girls to put out. I hated the fact that I had been initiated into my sexuality at the age of 7 by an older boy who felt like my female body existed for his pleasure.

I hated myself for being female, I hated my body for being female, and I was in an enormous amount of pain.

I was, however, way too others-conscious to do anything about this.

My boobs were huge, and I was a good kid from a good family in a hyper conservative town who wasn’t about to screw up my whole life by calling myself a boy when I obviously wasn’t a boy. No fucking way. Even if I’d had the language around gender expression we have now, I wouldn’t have risked being seen that way.

Instead, I learned to wield my female body like a weapon. I learned how to control everything, especially boys and men. I tried to find an identity that fit me while living in a body I resented, and the parts of my body that I hated the most were the ones that gave away my femaleness: my curves, my softness, my breasts.

I obsessively focused on my flaws, distracting myself with the wild goose chase of pursuing “body perfection” while trying to harden, tighten, and erase all the most female parts of me.

Looking back, I can see that many of these feelings were the result of terror and rage. Crushed under the weight of centuries of unequal treatment, I was afraid for my safety, and angry at the situation.

Being female in this world is scary, and unfair, and painful.

I’ve done a lot of work to heal my relationship with my body and my gender since then, and I’ve even come to love being a woman in some ways.

But I do so wish I’d had the freedom back then to NOT identify as female, without stigma, as I sorted through the experience of being in this body.

I’ve never felt a need to talk about gender identity before, although I’ve been slowly processing my own for years.

However, someone recently asked if my coaching program was open to people who weren’t sure if they identified as male or female or what, and I realized I’ve been doing a major disservice to the conversation on body image by not discussing gender.

So I’d like to make a few things clear:

Your sex is assigned at birth, and your gender is how you identify, based on what feels right for you.

Gender is no longer a male/female binary.

If everyone agrees respects everyone else’s gender identity without judgement than more people can explore themselves and their identity in a way that makes them feel safe, authentic, and accepted for who they are.

Body image and gender identity/expression are deeply interconnected, and for many women (even if they identify as fully female) this is a topic that needs to be discussed, considered, explored, and healed.

Please understand, this is absolutely terrifying for me to write, but I believe in transparency and I believe we need to talk about this.

Years ago, I told my best friend I was a boy sometimes.

I had been consciously exploring my own femininity for a while, and had committed to wearing dresses for an entire summer to see if I could face my distaste for female-ness head on.

I told him that I was doing it because deep down there is a boy Jessi and a girl Jessi, and that I was trying to get girl Jessi to show up more by making her feel welcome.

He gave me a look I’ll never forget, nodded supportively, and said “Wow… how does that feel to say out loud?”

It felt… liberating. Embarrassing. Exhilarating. Ridiculous. Glorious.

There is a Boy Jessi and a Girl Jessi!! It felt so hilariously and obviously true. I couldn’t believe I’d never let myself say that before.

In the years since, I have welcomed Woman Jessi, too. (Interestingly, I never feel like a Man. Just a Boy, Girl, or Woman.) Some days I feel more one or the other, and most days I feel like a blend.

When I started to write this, I had no intention of getting so personal or vulnerable. I actually had to stop midway through, to tremble and cry and come up with a thousand reasons not to send this. (It might not feel like a big reveal to you, but it sure as hell feels like one to me.)

But here you are reading it anyway.

My hope is that this helps us all open up a better, more nuanced, and compassionate conversation about gender, identity, and our relationships with our bodies.

There are SO many ways in which gender identity (and expression!) can affect your relationship with your body. Even if you don’t resonate with my story, I challenge you to think of ways in which traditional gender roles, expectations, and “norms” have helped you create (or reject) your identity, and the possible relationships between gender, safety, beauty standards, and feeling like you belong in your body.

I cannot believe I’m about to hit send on this.

I love you.

<3

Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Boy Jessi + Girl Jessi: What Gender Identity Has to Do With Body Image appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

http://ift.tt/2E5yqOD

[joshuabradleyn]

{#TransparentTuesday} Boy Jessi + Girl Jessi: What Gender Identity Has to Do With Body Image

Today we’re going to talk about gender.

Something I’ve noticed coming up a LOT in my webinars and coaching calls lately is the question of what it means to be female, and what to do when being “female” doesn’t quite feel right.

Now, I (like you, probably) grew up in a gender binary system. Our options used to be male, female, or “transexual.” Some men liked crossdressing and some lesbians liked looking butch, but gender and sex were basically the same thing and we were expected to like it.

In recent years, culture has changed to reflect a different understanding of gender, and I’ve changed along with it.

It is now widely recognized that sex is assigned at birth based on genitalia, while gender is the identity a person resonates with. That no longer means each person has to check the box next to “male” or “female,” either.

We have only begun to scratch the surface of recognizing intersex people, non-binary individuals, gender-fluid and gender-queer people, and more.

Gender identity and gender expression have created a whole new landscape for us to consider ourselves, our identities, and our bodies, as well as our beliefs about how things “should” be and where we have hang-ups. (Note: If you find this whole conversation ridiculous, offensive, or annoying, I humbly suggest you have some major hangups.)

So what does this new gender landscape have to do with body image?

Fucking EVERYTHING.

When I look back on my life, having been born into an unambiguously female body, I can see that the vast majority of my personal body shame and hatred came from the fact that I did not want to be female.

I had an older brother, and I was always EXTREMELY aware of how differently we were treated. From a very young age,I felt existentially cheated, and angry. He could run and show off and be difficult and get dirty and be forgiven for being an entitled dick sometimes (sorry Ben), while I was expected to be helpful, nice, calm, pretty, and polite.

Before I could even read or write I was aware that being a boy was indisputably better, and being a girl was indisputably worse. I was mad that I had to be a girl just because my stupid body said so, and I was mad that everyone treated me like one as if they couldn’t tell it didn’t suit me.

Questions I’ve asked myself a lot, as I process this experience within our new non-binary gender landscape:

How much of my resentment came from living in a sexist patriarchy, and how much was my inherent gender identity?

How much of my resentment came from an intuitive (and accurate) understanding that girls are more vulnerable targets, and that I was unsafe?

I’ll never know the answers.

My parents didn’t buy into gender roles the way some people did, thank goodness, so many of the messages I got about gender roles came from elsewhere, but they came nonetheless. My parents proudly empowered me to do and be whatever I wanted, which was great, but what I wanted was to be a boy, and that wasn’t on the table.

Examining and choosing my own gender identity wasn’t an option at the time. So a girl I stayed, and then I hit puberty and became a “woman” and I hated every fucking second of it.

I hated my breasts. I hated my vagina and the fact that I had periods and could get pregnant and had to take birth control. I hated that I was supposed to like girly stuff and supposed to want to get married and grow babies inside my body (NO THANK YOU) and generally just be something I wasn’t.

I hated the gross attention from men.

I hated the unfairness of how we females got treated, and the stories from history of how women had to work so hard to convince everyone that we were worthy of the vote, or physically capable of running a marathon. I hated that even today sexism and misogyny are alive and well, but also completely invisible to most straight men, who have the privilege of not being affected by it.

I hated how boys were taught to be entitled dicks whose only job in life was to convince girls to put out. I hated the fact that I had been initiated into my sexuality at the age of 7 by an older boy who felt like my female body existed for his pleasure.

I hated myself for being female, I hated my body for being female, and I was in an enormous amount of pain.

I was, however, way too others-conscious to do anything about this.

My boobs were huge, and I was a good kid from a good family in a hyper conservative town who wasn’t about to screw up my whole life by calling myself a boy when I obviously wasn’t a boy. No fucking way. Even if I’d had the language around gender expression we have now, I wouldn’t have risked being seen that way.

Instead, I learned to wield my female body like a weapon. I learned how to control everything, especially boys and men. I tried to find an identity that fit me while living in a body I resented, and the parts of my body that I hated the most were the ones that gave away my femaleness: my curves, my softness, my breasts.

I obsessively focused on my flaws, distracting myself with the wild goose chase of pursuing “body perfection” while trying to harden, tighten, and erase all the most female parts of me.

Looking back, I can see that many of these feelings were the result of terror and rage. Crushed under the weight of centuries of unequal treatment, I was afraid for my safety, and angry at the situation.

Being female in this world is scary, and unfair, and painful.

I’ve done a lot of work to heal my relationship with my body and my gender since then, and I’ve even come to love being a woman in some ways.

But I do so wish I’d had the freedom back then to NOT identify as female, without stigma, as I sorted through the experience of being in this body.

I’ve never felt a need to talk about gender identity before, although I’ve been slowly processing my own for years.

However, someone recently asked if my coaching program was open to people who weren’t sure if they identified as male or female or what, and I realized I’ve been doing a major disservice to the conversation on body image by not discussing gender.

So I’d like to make a few things clear:

Your sex is assigned at birth, and your gender is how you identify, based on what feels right for you.

Gender is no longer a male/female binary.

If everyone agrees respects everyone else’s gender identity without judgement than more people can explore themselves and their identity in a way that makes them feel safe, authentic, and accepted for who they are.

Body image and gender identity/expression are deeply interconnected, and for many women (even if they identify as fully female) this is a topic that needs to be discussed, considered, explored, and healed.

Please understand, this is absolutely terrifying for me to write, but I believe in transparency and I believe we need to talk about this.

Years ago, I told my best friend I was a boy sometimes.

I had been consciously exploring my own femininity for a while, and had committed to wearing dresses for an entire summer to see if I could face my distaste for female-ness head on.

I told him that I was doing it because deep down there is a boy Jessi and a girl Jessi, and that I was trying to get girl Jessi to show up more by making her feel welcome.

He gave me a look I’ll never forget, nodded supportively, and said “Wow… how does that feel to say out loud?”

It felt… liberating. Embarrassing. Exhilarating. Ridiculous. Glorious.

There is a Boy Jessi and a Girl Jessi!! It felt so hilariously and obviously true. I couldn’t believe I’d never let myself say that before.

In the years since, I have welcomed Woman Jessi, too. (Interestingly, I never feel like a Man. Just a Boy, Girl, or Woman.) Some days I feel more one or the other, and most days I feel like a blend.

When I started to write this, I had no intention of getting so personal or vulnerable. I actually had to stop midway through, to tremble and cry and come up with a thousand reasons not to send this. (It might not feel like a big reveal to you, but it sure as hell feels like one to me.)

But here you are reading it anyway.

My hope is that this helps us all open up a better, more nuanced, and compassionate conversation about gender, identity, and our relationships with our bodies.

There are SO many ways in which gender identity (and expression!) can affect your relationship with your body. Even if you don’t resonate with my story, I challenge you to think of ways in which traditional gender roles, expectations, and “norms” have helped you create (or reject) your identity, and the possible relationships between gender, safety, beauty standards, and feeling like you belong in your body.

I cannot believe I’m about to hit send on this.

I love you.

<3

Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Boy Jessi + Girl Jessi: What Gender Identity Has to Do With Body Image appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

http://ift.tt/2E5yqOD

[ruthellisneda]

{#TransparentTuesday} Boy Jessi + Girl Jessi: What Gender Identity Has to Do With Body Image

Today we’re going to talk about gender.

Something I’ve noticed coming up a LOT in my webinars and coaching calls lately is the question of what it means to be female, and what to do when being “female” doesn’t quite feel right.

Now, I (like you, probably) grew up in a gender binary system. Our options used to be male, female, or “transexual.” Some men liked crossdressing and some lesbians liked looking butch, but gender and sex were basically the same thing and we were expected to like it.

In recent years, culture has changed to reflect a different understanding of gender, and I’ve changed along with it.

It is now widely recognized that sex is assigned at birth based on genitalia, while gender is the identity a person resonates with. That no longer means each person has to check the box next to “male” or “female,” either.

We have only begun to scratch the surface of recognizing intersex people, non-binary individuals, gender-fluid and gender-queer people, and more.

Gender identity and gender expression have created a whole new landscape for us to consider ourselves, our identities, and our bodies, as well as our beliefs about how things “should” be and where we have hang-ups. (Note: If you find this whole conversation ridiculous, offensive, or annoying, I humbly suggest you have some major hangups.)

So what does this new gender landscape have to do with body image?

Fucking EVERYTHING.

When I look back on my life, having been born into an unambiguously female body, I can see that the vast majority of my personal body shame and hatred came from the fact that I did not want to be female.

I had an older brother, and I was always EXTREMELY aware of how differently we were treated. From a very young age,I felt existentially cheated, and angry. He could run and show off and be difficult and get dirty and be forgiven for being an entitled dick sometimes (sorry Ben), while I was expected to be helpful, nice, calm, pretty, and polite.

Before I could even read or write I was aware that being a boy was indisputably better, and being a girl was indisputably worse. I was mad that I had to be a girl just because my stupid body said so, and I was mad that everyone treated me like one as if they couldn’t tell it didn’t suit me.

Questions I’ve asked myself a lot, as I process this experience within our new non-binary gender landscape:

How much of my resentment came from living in a sexist patriarchy, and how much was my inherent gender identity?

How much of my resentment came from an intuitive (and accurate) understanding that girls are more vulnerable targets, and that I was unsafe?

I’ll never know the answers.

My parents didn’t buy into gender roles the way some people did, thank goodness, so many of the messages I got about gender roles came from elsewhere, but they came nonetheless. My parents proudly empowered me to do and be whatever I wanted, which was great, but what I wanted was to be a boy, and that wasn’t on the table.

Examining and choosing my own gender identity wasn’t an option at the time. So a girl I stayed, and then I hit puberty and became a “woman” and I hated every fucking second of it.

I hated my breasts. I hated my vagina and the fact that I had periods and could get pregnant and had to take birth control. I hated that I was supposed to like girly stuff and supposed to want to get married and grow babies inside my body (NO THANK YOU) and generally just be something I wasn’t.

I hated the gross attention from men.

I hated the unfairness of how we females got treated, and the stories from history of how women had to work so hard to convince everyone that we were worthy of the vote, or physically capable of running a marathon. I hated that even today sexism and misogyny are alive and well, but also completely invisible to most straight men, who have the privilege of not being affected by it.

I hated how boys were taught to be entitled dicks whose only job in life was to convince girls to put out. I hated the fact that I had been initiated into my sexuality at the age of 7 by an older boy who felt like my female body existed for his pleasure.

I hated myself for being female, I hated my body for being female, and I was in an enormous amount of pain.

I was, however, way too others-conscious to do anything about this.

My boobs were huge, and I was a good kid from a good family in a hyper conservative town who wasn’t about to screw up my whole life by calling myself a boy when I obviously wasn’t a boy. No fucking way. Even if I’d had the language around gender expression we have now, I wouldn’t have risked being seen that way.

Instead, I learned to wield my female body like a weapon. I learned how to control everything, especially boys and men. I tried to find an identity that fit me while living in a body I resented, and the parts of my body that I hated the most were the ones that gave away my femaleness: my curves, my softness, my breasts.

I obsessively focused on my flaws, distracting myself with the wild goose chase of pursuing “body perfection” while trying to harden, tighten, and erase all the most female parts of me.

Looking back, I can see that many of these feelings were the result of terror and rage. Crushed under the weight of centuries of unequal treatment, I was afraid for my safety, and angry at the situation.

Being female in this world is scary, and unfair, and painful.

I’ve done a lot of work to heal my relationship with my body and my gender since then, and I’ve even come to love being a woman in some ways.

But I do so wish I’d had the freedom back then to NOT identify as female, without stigma, as I sorted through the experience of being in this body.

I’ve never felt a need to talk about gender identity before, although I’ve been slowly processing my own for years.

However, someone recently asked if my coaching program was open to people who weren’t sure if they identified as male or female or what, and I realized I’ve been doing a major disservice to the conversation on body image by not discussing gender.

So I’d like to make a few things clear:

Your sex is assigned at birth, and your gender is how you identify, based on what feels right for you.

Gender is no longer a male/female binary.

If everyone agrees respects everyone else’s gender identity without judgement than more people can explore themselves and their identity in a way that makes them feel safe, authentic, and accepted for who they are.

Body image and gender identity/expression are deeply interconnected, and for many women (even if they identify as fully female) this is a topic that needs to be discussed, considered, explored, and healed.

Please understand, this is absolutely terrifying for me to write, but I believe in transparency and I believe we need to talk about this.

Years ago, I told my best friend I was a boy sometimes.

I had been consciously exploring my own femininity for a while, and had committed to wearing dresses for an entire summer to see if I could face my distaste for female-ness head on.

I told him that I was doing it because deep down there is a boy Jessi and a girl Jessi, and that I was trying to get girl Jessi to show up more by making her feel welcome.

He gave me a look I’ll never forget, nodded supportively, and said “Wow… how does that feel to say out loud?”

It felt… liberating. Embarrassing. Exhilarating. Ridiculous. Glorious.

There is a Boy Jessi and a Girl Jessi!! It felt so hilariously and obviously true. I couldn’t believe I’d never let myself say that before.

In the years since, I have welcomed Woman Jessi, too. (Interestingly, I never feel like a Man. Just a Boy, Girl, or Woman.) Some days I feel more one or the other, and most days I feel like a blend.

When I started to write this, I had no intention of getting so personal or vulnerable. I actually had to stop midway through, to tremble and cry and come up with a thousand reasons not to send this. (It might not feel like a big reveal to you, but it sure as hell feels like one to me.)

But here you are reading it anyway.

My hope is that this helps us all open up a better, more nuanced, and compassionate conversation about gender, identity, and our relationships with our bodies.

There are SO many ways in which gender identity (and expression!) can affect your relationship with your body. Even if you don’t resonate with my story, I challenge you to think of ways in which traditional gender roles, expectations, and “norms” have helped you create (or reject) your identity, and the possible relationships between gender, safety, beauty standards, and feeling like you belong in your body.

I cannot believe I’m about to hit send on this.

I love you.

<3

Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Boy Jessi + Girl Jessi: What Gender Identity Has to Do With Body Image appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

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