#but anyway it baffles me how people has 0 manners when it comes to messaging me

[nszypher]

In Honor of Pride Month

In honor of pride month, I’ve decided to share my story. This is the first time I’ve done such a thing, and done anything more than silently root people on during this time. It’s been a big year of change for me and several of my friends, so I think this pride month is possibly the most important one to me.

This is deeply personal and I debated on posting this at all, but I want it out there somewhere and I don’t think anyone is really going to read this crazy long post so...here goes nothing.

Long story short, I identify as a non-binary asexual. More specifically, I feel I fit into the terms of demigril, mascandrogyne, genderflux agender asexual. Which is a lot of terms, some seemingly conflicting, but all fitting.

As most do, I felt I was differing from “the norm” fairly early on. I was considered a tomboy as a kid as I tended to gravitate towards things that were largely considered to be “for boys.” My parents let me do and be what I wanted without shaming me for how I chose to dress or what I chose to do. They did dress me in more traditional feminine clothing when I was young, but once I was old enough to make my own choices, they let me do as I pleased. They never once forced me, after that point, to wear something because it was appropriate, or do or stop doing something for the same reason.

I know I am very fortunate.

I once expressed to my mom that I wished I had been born a boy. I knew then, and still know now, that the reason I felt that way was not because I felt I was a boy, knew I was supposed to be, but because I saw the privilege bestowed upon males. They were allowed to play outside and get dirty without comments. They were allowed to play video games and like animals other than dogs, cats, and horses. They were dressed in blues and wore pants. It seemed to me, in my eight-ish year-old mind they were given more freedom. Girls like me were frowned upon in society, at least at the time. I wanted to do whatever I liked and wear whatever felt nice, and society as a whole did not want me to do that.

My parents told me, in nicer terms, fuck them and do what you like. You’re not hurting anyone, so why should they care?

Then puberty hit, and the differences in everything became so much clearer. Or at least, the fact that I was different became clearer. We were told that we all would start having urges and thoughts and feelings, and it’s all natural. And people around me did, I suppose. I can only go by what happened in media and what little I saw of people at my school through my own lens. They told you that these things were natural, and everyone did them, so what are you to think when it doesn’t happen for you?

The problem is, especially where I grew up, you were told there were two genders, male and female, and that the only thing you should be is heterosexual, or straight. If the mentioned homosexuality at all, it was in the context of things that were wrong and bad. There is only dialogue about this, as I see it now, very narrow window of how things should be. Two genders, one orientation, no variation of those.

So when you don’t fit into that slot, it can be very disorienting. I spent my high school years wondering what was wrong with me. I got into a semi-romantic relationship because “that’s what people do.” I say semi-romantic because I think he felt it more than I did, and while I did really enjoy being with him and around him, the most we ever did was hug. I really cared about him, but looking back, it was very true that it was never going to go any further than close friends. I realize now that what I liked in that relationship was not being a girlfriend or having a boyfriend for the romance and god forbid the sex, not that we ever did it, but having someone who was dedicated to me, that made time for me, that would come over at a moment’s notice if he wasn’t busy, and that wouldn’t put others over me.

I want a friend and companion. That’s about it.

It wasn’t until college, I think it was sometime in Senior year (weirdobagel corrected me because I was wrong) that my roommate and best friend found the term asexual. And it was...life changing for the both of us. I believe I can say that much for her. Suddenly, there was a word describing what I had felt. Suddenly, there was validation and the promise that I was not broken or lying or just missing it. Suddenly, I had something to cling onto. I am this. There is nothing wrong with me. Identifying that was such a relief, and finding that there were more people in the world besides just the two of us that felt the same way. I just cannot describe the elation. 

What are the chances of not only finding someone else just like you completely by chance, but also rooming with them and having them find that?

I thought that was where my revelations would end. But years later, there was more to come.

In 2017, two of my friends began transitioning from female to male, one early in the year, one near the end. I only found out about the first by chance because they mentioned HRT, and knowing their previous history with gender identity, there was only one thing that could stand for. He did not tell me directly, and to be fair, hasn’t actually told me anything about it, but he has plenty of support where he is and doesn’t need me. 

It’s okay. This same person who came out as bi to me six years earlier is also the same who told me, in that same conversation, that I couldn’t be ace because I haven’t had sex yet after I confided in them about being ace. I had never questioned them in any way before then, and didn’t even laugh or flinch when they said they were bi, and yet, they told me I couldn’t be ace because I hadn’t had sex, so how would I know?

But the other has been one that was scared to come out to me (which saddens me but I understand...I was in the same place. More on that later), but is one I have been supporting from a distance since they have. They came out to me one October afternoon in a long message over Facebook Messenger while I was at work trying to solve a huge problem. At the time, all I could do is send a short message back saying that while it was a bit of a shock, I was behind them 100%.

While I was working on the problem and getting through the day, I got to thinking. Feeling that you are one or the other was...I realized, kind of strange to me. I had always said I was a girl, and I think in part because I had always been called one. I had not questioned it because my logical brain said that I must be. That is what everyone calls me. I have boobs and lack a penis. So isn’t that what I am? But then, why do people who loose their boobs or penis or what have you know they are still female or male? And why do transgender people feel they are the opposite gender? I realized that it sort of baffled me...because I don’t really feel like either.

I say I’m genderflux because I do feel like a female stronger sometimes than others, but I mean, if you put it on a scale from 0 to 10, with 0 being feeling like nothing at all and 10 being totally, unquestionably, no doubt female (in my case), I peak at a 3 at most and hover more around 0 to 1.

And this was a revelation brought about because my friend was transitioning, and it got me to thinking about things in my own head. Crazy how those things work, huh? And I started looking around, reading on the internet about various things, and I came across these terms.

Demigirl: Not nessecarily identifying as female, but not having a problem being called those pronouns.

Mascandrogyne: Feeling mostly androgynous, but presenting in a more masculine manner.

Agender: Not really feeling attached to either.

Nonbinary: Not falling in the binary spectrum of male or female.

And suddenly, it made sense. It makes sense to me now. I will say that it’s not because my parents didn’t push me to this. I did what I did, dressed how I dressed, because it’s what felt good. I have never done anything because it was “male” or not because it was “female.” I do buy things from the male clothing sections because they are more comfortable, and I gravitate there because history has taught me I am more likely to find something I like there but if female stuff had the form and function male clothing did too, I would buy from there. I don’t tend to like the look of female clothing, cuts and patterns, on me, but can appreciate them on someone else. I like shorter, male-type haircuts because they feel nice and suit me.

My last haircut was not great. It didn’t...quite do it. It actually almost looks a little too masculine for me. Shock!

When I was younger, it used to bother me when I was misgendered, but it also bothered me when I was forced into a thing that felt wrong. 

When I was twelve, we went on a cruise and because I was female, I was forced to wear a skirt to dinner because that is what was mandated for females. I hate dresses. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just wear nice pants.

When I was in middle school, before I cut my hair, I had someone at the church I was attending at the time convince me, after much convincing, to let her do my hair and make up. I had done make up things before in Girl Scouts and with my mom, and I already knew I hated it. I hated the feel, and I hated the time and effort it took. But I let this person do it anyway because...maybe I’ll change my mind? Because it’s what people do? I don’t know for sure why I did, but I did. I hated the result. My mom said I did look very pretty, but I didn’t look like me, and looked even less happy.

In middle school and high school, I had a friend who used to tease me that I didn’t know what gender I was, whether I was a boy or a girl. That really bothered me, though I didn’t know why exactly. I thought I did, thinking it was just because he was calling me something I’m not.

I used to be extremely bothered when people called me the wrong gender. Like much more than maybe it should’ve bothered me. I had a manager of mine at GameStop as why he let his twelve year-old son work there. I was seventeen at the time. They proceeded to make fun of me after he corrected them. He also then told them I was a valued employee and if they made fun of me again, he’d kick them out. I let an older lady with a few items go in front of me at WalMart because I was buying groceries for the month. She told the cashier that “this nice young man” let her go in front of her. The cashier and I shared a knowing look.

My mom actually said to me, not meaning to sound callous, that I bring it upon myself by dressing and cutting my hair the way I did.

I now realize that it was because I was nonbinary, but I didn’t know it. I didn’t understand what that meant. I wouldn’t hear the term until nearly ten years later. And I wouldn’t identify as that until almost 15. That sort of thing is not discussed or accepted around where I grew up.

With these new terms, I came to understand why I didn’t like swimsuits made for females. I came to understand why it was that I did whatever felt right and good without worrying about how it was “gendered.”

And now, call me whatever you like. I have, in the past two months, been called a male in at least three different occassions, and since finding the nonbinary term, it didn’t bother me. I don’t really mind being call either even if I still go with the female ones.

I saw a post somewhere that said “Nonbinary does not mean vaguely masculine.” But for me, it does honestly. I wear male clothing, I get a male haircut, and more than anything, I want top surgery to remove my boobs. I have been wearing a binder almost every day since early November, and it feels so right to look and be like this. I literally cried tears of joy when I found a binding swim top, and again when I used it for the first time last Thursday night. I enjoy swimming again. I have wanted to rid myself of boobs ever since I grew them, I just didn’t really see that it was an option until late last year. I knew trans people could do it, but I didn’t know I didn’t need to be trans FtM to get it.

I don’t want to be on testosterone. I don’t want facial hair unless it’s fake for a cosplay. I don’t want to get a penis. I just don’t want boobs.

I’ve been saving real hard for the surgery. I reached out to a surgeon late last year in my area for a cost estimate. It’s pricey, though I’m hoping for the lower price area and saving for the higher one, but I want it. I was worried it was just a fad of mine, but I think the fact that the cost did not scare me off and the fact that even considering it might not happen gives me anxiety proves its not. I had some unexpected expenses come up and take a big chunk out of my savings for it, and have already come up with a plan B if I fall short. That is how important that is to me. Most people won’t see the difference, but I will.

There may be more for me to discover about myself, but for now, this is all. I never thought Pride month would matter to me so much, but this one is something special to me so I had to share. Because of my friend, transgender issues matter to me more than they did. Before it was “yeah, be a good person and don’t be an asshole.” But now it’s much more personal. And because of them, I found out more about me, and found a path to making myself that much more comfortable.

So to all those who fall outside the “normal” spectrum, you are awesome! Everyone one of you! You matter so much and you just keep rocking whatever it is you do! 

To those who are still hiding away, or are unsure, you’ll come into your own. You’ll find your way. Hang in there. Your day is coming. Coming out, in any sense, is hard. I had a hard time bringing myself to express to my mom (whom I still live with) that I wanted top surgery. She took it pretty well. Still processing but wants me to be happy. And I had a hard time bringing myself to tell my ace bestie, which is crazy because she of all people would welcome me with open arms regardless of what I identify as. I nearly cried from relief when I told her. I shouldn’t have expected anything else, but my anxiety-riddled brain asked “But what if she DOES reject you? What then?” So I know, it’s hard. But one day, you won’t have to hide.

And to all those who support us but do not identify as something else, thank you for being there for us! You matter too.

For everyone else, to those against us, to those who say we are wrong or that we don’t exist, fuck you! We are going to be who we are. You can’t change that.