The bones of beasts and the bones of kings
Become dust in the wake of the hymn
Mighty kingdoms rise, but they all will fall
No more than a breath on the wind
~~Caladan Brood, "Wild Autumn Wind"
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Letting Go: Dust in the wake of the hymn
Meditating on mortality is one way to remind oneself of the impermanence of all things and let go of attachment to them. (I know I have a quote on this somewhere; will try to find it later.) Metal music happens to provide a lot of musings on this subject. Today's jam:
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
But you're a girl - how can you be a male lesbian?
Well, first off, I'm not a girl - that was covered in this post.
Secondly, technically speaking, I'm not exactly a male lesbian; I'm not even a trans male lesbian, because I don't consider myself 100% male, trans or not. So I'm really a transmasculine lesbian, if you wanna be technical. Which I will be in this post, but honestly saying "male lesbian" or "guydyke" is so much easier, and easier to understand, than "transmasculine lesbian"...
So let's start with the lesbian part. I spent several months, from when I first started to think I was genderqueer up till I figured out this identity, thinking that I couldn't be a lesbian - or couldn't consider myself in a lesbian relationship with my girlfriend, since I actually identified as pansexual. And that made me rather sad, because there are lots of nice things about lesbian relationships. Like lesbian sex, which is amazing XD Of course, the sex stayed the same and lesbian was just a word I couldn't use to describe myself anymore. But as I started to feel more and more transmasculine, I started to wonder whether it would change, and whether how I related to my girlfriend would change. Would I have to start being "the man" in the relationship? Would it become like a queer straight relationship? I didn't want that; I wanted to keep the equal, free, fluid roles we had as two women together. And also the lesbian sex XD
But I couldn't reconcile that with the way I kept feeling more and more masculine. Wanting to wear more and more masculine clothing, rather than androgynous or ambiguous outfits. Wanting to be seen as a guy. Being bothered by female pronouns, my female name, being called "miss" and "ma'am." And the crazy feeling that I was crossdressing if I put on very feminine garments. I definitely thought I was creeping along the trans spectrum, but dreaded where it might lead.
And then, I was reading something totally unrelated to me - a discussion of whether "girlfag" is an appropriate name for an identity - and male lesbians were mentioned, and the next day, something clicked. Holy shit, I thought. If a cis guy can identify as a lesbian, surely a trans guy can too? I can have the best of both worlds, I can have my cake and eat it too (tehehehe). I'm a male lesbian. Except that I'm a trans one. And I'm transmasculine, not trans male.
Now, I can't claim to understand how cis-male male lesbians feel. For some people it seems to be being comfortable in a male body, yet wanting to relate to women as a woman. For others, it's more genderqueer or trans in nature, where they crossdress or are even medically transitioning to female. I'm more interested in the idea of identifying as male (cis or trans) and lesbian at the same time, though. I don't think the two are mutually exclusive. It's a fairly queer experience of gender, yes. But why shouldn't someone who inhabits a male body be able to be ok with his body, and yet not want to interact with women the way society says men ought to interact with women, but rather as a woman would?
Of course, my experience is different, because I have a female body, but a masculine identity, except that I want to interact with women as woman would. I don't know what it's like to be cis male, or even totally male at all. I have the privilege of having a female body and female socialization which gives me more access to "lesbian" relationships than cis male lesbians might have. (Though my reading seems to indicate male lesbians are more likely to be happily paired with girlfags than with lesbian-identified women, anyway.) I don't have much chance of being accepted in the tiny, scattered male lesbian community, unless I went super stealth and tried to pass as a man, but since I don't even feel I am a man, that's unlikely. I don't even know if there'd be any point, since the issues I have going on as a transmasculine person would be so different from the issues facing cis male lesbians. So I'm just kind of on my own.
I suppose this could be seen as a kind of bigendered or genderfluid identity, but it's very specific. It's not like I switch back and forth on a whim, or am both male and female all the time. In general, I'm masculine. It's just that my sexual orientation and my way of doing romantic relationships is lesbian. Which actually has a lot of flexibility within it, as well, cause I can be butch and manly and protective and chivalrous - or I can be soft and sensitive and femme - or anything in between. But I don't have to "be the man" in the relationship just because I want to be seen as a man in the rest of my life.
Ok, and now for the really annoying questions.
Doesn't this just make you a really butch lesbian?
No, not according to my understanding of the term "butch." While I feel like there may be butches out there who don't really identify with being female, to me, butchness is a form of being masculine while still being female. I don't identify with being female. Most things about being female feel wrong to me. So I cannot be butch. I'm transmasculine.
Why come up with this weird identity - why can't you just be "queer" or "genderqueer"?
I do consider myself queer and genderqueer. But using that to describe myself is like answering the question "What country are you from?" with "I'm from Europe." Um, ok, but there are a lot of countries in Europe, and Finland and Italy sure are a heck of a lot different. There are tons of identities under the umbrellas of queer and genderqueer; identifying that way doesn't really tell anyone anything besides I'm not straight or cis. I'm from Europe, I'm from Finland, I'm from the city of Turku and I'm half Finnish-speaking Finnish and half Finland-Swede Finnish. I'm queer, I'm genderqueer, I'm transmasculine and also consider myself a lesbian.
Don't you have to be cis male to be a male lesbian?
It is kind of part of the definition. But if you agree that a trans man should be regarded as pretty much the same as a cis man, then you have to admit that if a cis man can be a male lesbian, then a trans man should be able to, too. And just cause I don't feel 100% (trans) male is no reason why I shouldn't have access to that identity, too. Yes, I experience it differently from a cis man. Just the way that a trans man experiences being a man differently than does a cis man. I can only imagine the struggles of cis male lesbians to forge lives and relationships where they can express their womanly attitudes toward love, while I struggle to convince the world that I am a masculine person. But the end point is the same - living as a man, loving women as a woman.
So does this mean you're not bisexual/pansexual anymore?
I honestly don't know. At the moment I can't imagine a relationship with a straight, cis guy. I can't imagine what my role would be - a guy to his guy? a girl to his guy? I can't quite see myself being either of those. But every person is an individual. Just like there's no way I'd be able to relate perfectly with every single woman (or feminine person, anywhere on the gender spectrum), there's no way I can rule out that I might find a male-identified person who fits with my gender identity and how I want to do relationships. So I could say I'm still theoretically pansexual - I'm open to getting to know people of any sex and gender identity. It's just that I know lesbian is something that works for me and that I want in my life. But there's no reason something "lesbian" couldn't come packaged in the form of...say a cis male person? XD
To close, this realization has some interesting implications for my life as a trans person. For one thing, if I want to be a lesbian, medical transition is pretty much out of the question - which is kind of a relief actually, because I was dreading thinking about it. Even taking testosterone would probably be a bad idea, cause I've heard it causes people to lose emotionality, which is something I'd need as a lesbian. Besides, I don't want facial hair O.o Also, passing as male ceases to be as important, perhaps even unwanted, because I don't think I'd want to be read as male - even trans male - by other lesbians. I think I could stomach getting read as butch as long as I can depend on those closest to me to reinforce my masculine identity by using my preferred name and pronouns. Heck, I may even be able to present as female again occasionally at some point. Even though this identity feels like home, it's still not a destination - more like a comfy nest to venture out of for more adventures of self-discovery in this big queer world.
Secondly, technically speaking, I'm not exactly a male lesbian; I'm not even a trans male lesbian, because I don't consider myself 100% male, trans or not. So I'm really a transmasculine lesbian, if you wanna be technical. Which I will be in this post, but honestly saying "male lesbian" or "guydyke" is so much easier, and easier to understand, than "transmasculine lesbian"...
So let's start with the lesbian part. I spent several months, from when I first started to think I was genderqueer up till I figured out this identity, thinking that I couldn't be a lesbian - or couldn't consider myself in a lesbian relationship with my girlfriend, since I actually identified as pansexual. And that made me rather sad, because there are lots of nice things about lesbian relationships. Like lesbian sex, which is amazing XD Of course, the sex stayed the same and lesbian was just a word I couldn't use to describe myself anymore. But as I started to feel more and more transmasculine, I started to wonder whether it would change, and whether how I related to my girlfriend would change. Would I have to start being "the man" in the relationship? Would it become like a queer straight relationship? I didn't want that; I wanted to keep the equal, free, fluid roles we had as two women together. And also the lesbian sex XD
But I couldn't reconcile that with the way I kept feeling more and more masculine. Wanting to wear more and more masculine clothing, rather than androgynous or ambiguous outfits. Wanting to be seen as a guy. Being bothered by female pronouns, my female name, being called "miss" and "ma'am." And the crazy feeling that I was crossdressing if I put on very feminine garments. I definitely thought I was creeping along the trans spectrum, but dreaded where it might lead.
And then, I was reading something totally unrelated to me - a discussion of whether "girlfag" is an appropriate name for an identity - and male lesbians were mentioned, and the next day, something clicked. Holy shit, I thought. If a cis guy can identify as a lesbian, surely a trans guy can too? I can have the best of both worlds, I can have my cake and eat it too (tehehehe). I'm a male lesbian. Except that I'm a trans one. And I'm transmasculine, not trans male.
Now, I can't claim to understand how cis-male male lesbians feel. For some people it seems to be being comfortable in a male body, yet wanting to relate to women as a woman. For others, it's more genderqueer or trans in nature, where they crossdress or are even medically transitioning to female. I'm more interested in the idea of identifying as male (cis or trans) and lesbian at the same time, though. I don't think the two are mutually exclusive. It's a fairly queer experience of gender, yes. But why shouldn't someone who inhabits a male body be able to be ok with his body, and yet not want to interact with women the way society says men ought to interact with women, but rather as a woman would?
Of course, my experience is different, because I have a female body, but a masculine identity, except that I want to interact with women as woman would. I don't know what it's like to be cis male, or even totally male at all. I have the privilege of having a female body and female socialization which gives me more access to "lesbian" relationships than cis male lesbians might have. (Though my reading seems to indicate male lesbians are more likely to be happily paired with girlfags than with lesbian-identified women, anyway.) I don't have much chance of being accepted in the tiny, scattered male lesbian community, unless I went super stealth and tried to pass as a man, but since I don't even feel I am a man, that's unlikely. I don't even know if there'd be any point, since the issues I have going on as a transmasculine person would be so different from the issues facing cis male lesbians. So I'm just kind of on my own.
I suppose this could be seen as a kind of bigendered or genderfluid identity, but it's very specific. It's not like I switch back and forth on a whim, or am both male and female all the time. In general, I'm masculine. It's just that my sexual orientation and my way of doing romantic relationships is lesbian. Which actually has a lot of flexibility within it, as well, cause I can be butch and manly and protective and chivalrous - or I can be soft and sensitive and femme - or anything in between. But I don't have to "be the man" in the relationship just because I want to be seen as a man in the rest of my life.
Ok, and now for the really annoying questions.
Doesn't this just make you a really butch lesbian?
No, not according to my understanding of the term "butch." While I feel like there may be butches out there who don't really identify with being female, to me, butchness is a form of being masculine while still being female. I don't identify with being female. Most things about being female feel wrong to me. So I cannot be butch. I'm transmasculine.
Why come up with this weird identity - why can't you just be "queer" or "genderqueer"?
I do consider myself queer and genderqueer. But using that to describe myself is like answering the question "What country are you from?" with "I'm from Europe." Um, ok, but there are a lot of countries in Europe, and Finland and Italy sure are a heck of a lot different. There are tons of identities under the umbrellas of queer and genderqueer; identifying that way doesn't really tell anyone anything besides I'm not straight or cis. I'm from Europe, I'm from Finland, I'm from the city of Turku and I'm half Finnish-speaking Finnish and half Finland-Swede Finnish. I'm queer, I'm genderqueer, I'm transmasculine and also consider myself a lesbian.
Don't you have to be cis male to be a male lesbian?
It is kind of part of the definition. But if you agree that a trans man should be regarded as pretty much the same as a cis man, then you have to admit that if a cis man can be a male lesbian, then a trans man should be able to, too. And just cause I don't feel 100% (trans) male is no reason why I shouldn't have access to that identity, too. Yes, I experience it differently from a cis man. Just the way that a trans man experiences being a man differently than does a cis man. I can only imagine the struggles of cis male lesbians to forge lives and relationships where they can express their womanly attitudes toward love, while I struggle to convince the world that I am a masculine person. But the end point is the same - living as a man, loving women as a woman.
So does this mean you're not bisexual/pansexual anymore?
I honestly don't know. At the moment I can't imagine a relationship with a straight, cis guy. I can't imagine what my role would be - a guy to his guy? a girl to his guy? I can't quite see myself being either of those. But every person is an individual. Just like there's no way I'd be able to relate perfectly with every single woman (or feminine person, anywhere on the gender spectrum), there's no way I can rule out that I might find a male-identified person who fits with my gender identity and how I want to do relationships. So I could say I'm still theoretically pansexual - I'm open to getting to know people of any sex and gender identity. It's just that I know lesbian is something that works for me and that I want in my life. But there's no reason something "lesbian" couldn't come packaged in the form of...say a cis male person? XD
To close, this realization has some interesting implications for my life as a trans person. For one thing, if I want to be a lesbian, medical transition is pretty much out of the question - which is kind of a relief actually, because I was dreading thinking about it. Even taking testosterone would probably be a bad idea, cause I've heard it causes people to lose emotionality, which is something I'd need as a lesbian. Besides, I don't want facial hair O.o Also, passing as male ceases to be as important, perhaps even unwanted, because I don't think I'd want to be read as male - even trans male - by other lesbians. I think I could stomach getting read as butch as long as I can depend on those closest to me to reinforce my masculine identity by using my preferred name and pronouns. Heck, I may even be able to present as female again occasionally at some point. Even though this identity feels like home, it's still not a destination - more like a comfy nest to venture out of for more adventures of self-discovery in this big queer world.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Loving Myself (and giving myself the freedom to feel)
A few days ago, someone close to me got upset - not at me, but at a larger problem in life - and I couldn't do anything about it, not even help her feel better. She didn't want to talk about it, and hugs didn't really help either. I tried to talk about other things to distract her but that didn't work either. Of course, it's not my job to make anyone else feel better, but still, for the rest of the evening, I couldn't shake a feeling of sadness and inadequacy brought on by her suffering and my own powerlessness to do anything about it.
I thought I knew how to deal with emotional pain. Over the past six months or so I've been taking my lessons on this from readings of Buddhist writers Pema Chodron and Thich Nhat Hanh. What I picked up there was the idea of not suppressing or pushing away painful feelings - or trying to cover them up with distractions - but allowing them to emerge, feeling them for a time and letting them dissipate on their own. I thought I knew how to do it. After all, I healed myself from heartbreak this way - what's a little sadness? But despite my attempts to practice, the episode with my friend was actually the tail end of a terribly anxious week, where uncomfortable feelings of loneliness and longing, fear and worry assailed me again and again in spite of all my attempts to process them - to drive them away, quite frankly.
I realized what I was doing over the weekend. I had spent most of the last two weeks castigating myself for longing so bad for my significant other that it verged on dependence, and I don't doubt it was the suppression of this feeling that fueled my anxiety about the poly nature of our relationship. That particular day, I had been experiencing ever worsening bouts of anxiety about the whole thing. I tried to follow the teachings of the masters I was reading, to acknowledge my feelings and then let them go - but without realizing it I had not been truly embracing my feelings, but rather pushing them away with my judgmental mindset even as I tried to let them run their course. I was so caught up in seeking relief, in trying to rid myself of feelings I thought wrong, that I wasn't allowing my difficult feelings the space to truly emerge. So I resolved to be less judgy toward myself, to give myself permission to feel, and not immediately label my feelings as wrong - needy, codependent, unhealthy; or jealous and unbefitting a poly relationship.
I put it into practice a few days later. I saw a text from my significant other come in, and resisted the usual urge to quash my excitement as "overly dependent." Isn't it natural to be happy when you receive a message from a loved one? Why not let myself feel excited? Especially considering my loved one is far away and very much missed. It was amazing how much letting go of my critical mindset lightened my day. I no longer spent the day locked in an anxious battle between wanting to hear from my beloved and hating myself for it, between my feelings and my fear of their power. If I got a text from my beloved, I could be happy. If a while went by without one, it was ok to feel a little pang of loneliness and longing. Suddenly, I could relax.
So when, as I was shelving books at the library, the sadness over my perceived inadequacy returned, I quickly stopped myself from trying to get rid of it in the guise of "thinking it through" or "feeling it and letting it go." Instead I stopped thinking and just let myself feel the sadness. And suddenly I felt calm. I felt sad, yes. But also at peace. There was a beauty to just being quietly sad. It made me slow down; I felt as if I were drifting, the world only half real, the books slowly shelving themselves out of habit. If anyone had tried to talk to me, I don't doubt I would have had trouble responding. But fortunately no one asked me anything; I was able to drift through my fog of sadness, until it slowly dissolved.
I'm sure there's a point where examining one's own feelings is a useful and necessary thing. Especially since I do think I have issues with personal boundaries and neediness and depending on others for my happiness. But beating myself up about it constantly is definitely not a way to lead a happy life, and probably does little to make me better in any of those areas. Being gentle with myself, accepting and embracing what I feel and how I am, is a much better first step in becoming a stronger, more contented person.
One of my favorite Buddhist writers, Thich Nhat Hanh, recommends treating even unpleasant feelings quite tenderly. For example, from his book Fear: "With the energy of mindfulness and concentration, we just recognize and embrace the painful feeling. 'Hello, my fear. Hello, my anger. Hello, my sadness. I know you are there. I'm going to take good care of you' " (pg. 137). In that passage, he goes on to talk about the energy of mindfulness embracing and permeating a painful feeling the way the sunlight permeates a lotus flower in the early morning and causes it to open. I certainly had not been treating my feelings this tenderly with my judgmental attitude, so it's no wonder my attempts to practice didn't help dissipate my sadness and anxiety.
Even my desire for painful feelings to disappear is something best left behind. I don't need to worry about the feeling disappearing. Feelings are transient; whether good or bad, they won't last forever. Eventually, sadness and anxiety will subside. Willing it away - even with the subtle coercion of trying too hard to "let go" - can't make it leave before it's ready, and will probably make it worse. Far better is to give the feeling its head, without any expectations of it lessening or going, while also practicing mindfulness, in the form of breathing, or walking, or shelving library books, to keep it from going crazy. It's probably a happy accident that I had this episode at the library where mindfulness meditation is right there at hand - but perhaps it's not a coincidence at all; maybe the meditative conditions are what allowed my sadness to fully emerge in the first place. Either way, I now have a better handle on how to practice with my difficult feelings - not judging or wishing them away, but accepting and loving myself even when my feelings are painful or seem unhealthy, and letting my feelings appear and have their moment without criticism or suppression. Because only in the embrace of loving oneself will the negative feelings truly melt away.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Actually, I'm Just Not a Girl
Last week I wrote a post titled I'm Not Just a Straight Girl who Also Likes Girls, which started out as an explanation of why I can't be myself with straight guys and ended up with me wondering what my problem with femininity was. "I should try to reclaim being female," I wrote, and immediately loathed the very idea.
I spent the rest of the day in a tense, irritable state. Partway through the evening I realized I hadn't told the truth when I said I was ok with my female body - it was more like I was resigned to it. Because years ago I used to wish I was much more androgynous, that my breasts were smaller and my butt was thinner. I thought that was the only way I could be ambiguous, which was what I wanted - I wished my look was such that people couldn't tell if I was a guy or a girl.
But I hadn't thought about that much for years. I'd been dating guys (who were unquestionably straight) since high school, and they didn't want to see me in baggy pants - never mind trying to look like a guy! So I learned to live with flare leg jeans and girlie shirts and short shorts, to the point I started to like those things, in a way (Stockholm syndrome?!). But after my blog post churned up my thoughts about bodies and gender and where I actually fall, those thoughts came to light again. No, I'm actually not totally ok with this body.
And then a discussion about breasts and bras set off an anxiety attack about my breasts. I had disliked them at times, but I had never hated them so much before. Suddenly I just wished they would go away.
And then the person I was talking to asked if I thought I was still actually a girl, or if I might be genderqueer or trans, and I fell apart. I don't know! I cried.
I still don't know. I'm not coming out as anything, except probably not a girl. I do know that wearing sports bras wiped the anxiety away, and seeing myself looking flatter makes me feel amazing. So do men's button down shirts :3 Guys pants and shorts don't seem to have as much of an effect, probably because I've worn such things since high school. But I am slowly gathering things to actually dress up as a guy - which is something I want to try, but not how I want to be all the time.
For now, I think I'm swinging toward the masculine because I've spent so long forcing myself to be feminine. Right now, even just the tad bit of femininity that women's shorts, dress shirts and regular bras bring to my look is unbearable. It's a disguise I carried on too long; it became repressive. Looking masculine, meanwhile, is new and exciting - and a little scary. I'm afraid of tipping the balance too far.
Because I don't feel like I want to be a guy, and I don't want to give people the impression that I do. Most days, I believe, will be a balancing act. Men's shirt and women's shorts, something of each. Or neither. I realized this is probably the reason I prefer t-shirts and cargo pants to anything else - they're not gendered. Anyone can wear t-shirts and cargo pants. They don't make me a guy or a girl, just me.
I do still intend to dress up as a girl sometimes, too, cause it's fun to put on a short skirt and fishnets and scandalize people :3 Honestly, I've called that sort of thing "dressing up as a girl" for years now, because it always felt like crossdressing, just as much as dressing up as a guy would.
Initially I thought nothing else would change, but now a lot of little things are starting to scratch at the back door of my brain saying, no, that's not right, because you're not a girl >.< But I'm not sure yet how big of a deal this actually is, so I'm gonna wait till those little things get louder to do anything about them.
I can't even say for sure what I am, except I don't feel like a girl, and don't want to be a guy either. The words I'd choose to describe myself are androgynous, ambiguous, confusing - that's how I want to look and be perceived, anyway. At times I've thought of myself as genderless, but I can't say for sure if that's the case, or if I actually have a bit of both. It does kind of seem that neither glove fits; they both feel backwards no matter which way I put them on. But the way I feel most comfortable describing myself, really, is "just me." :D
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Yay for guy shirt and flatness! :D
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
I'm Not Just a Straight Girl who Also Likes Girls
In most of my past relationships, which have generally been with men who see themselves as 100% straight, I've come to the disheartening realization that there was a part of me they didn't get, or even couldn't accept. This shouldn't have been surprising, really. It can't be easy for a guy who's used to straight girls to wrap his head around the fact that wearing a skirt feels like crossdressing to me, or that I'd like to sometimes be perceived as tough and macho rather than as the soft and sensitive person I am most of the time.
I don't really know how much of this I share with other bisexual women - whether they also feel like being "the guy" sometimes, and don't feel very feminine most of the time. I do know that I vastly prefer a relationship without prescribed gender roles, where we can make it up as we go along, and I can be the way I feel like being, not what society says a human in a female body should be like.
It's not that I want to be a guy or that I don't want to be female. I'm fine with inhabiting a female body and even with dressing in a way that shows it off to a certain degree - although I kind of hope that with my sailor arms, even girlie shirts and tank tops look a bit macho on me ;) Mainly, I just feel that I don't fit in with other women, or more like with the conventional idea of how women behave. Part of this stems from a frightening level of internalized misogyny - women are shallow creatures who only care about shopping and getting their nails done, women are catty and gossipy - yikes! Where did that come from?!
I would venture probably from my rather judgmental mother, who dislikes shopping, fancy nails, makeup and all those other things that I grew up regarding as "feminine." I suppose I didn't really have a very positive idea of what being feminine meant while I was growing up, so I tried to avoid it. But not being able to (and not wanting to) be totally masculine either, I ended up in a sort of genderless void.
I suppose as a feminist I should try to reclaim being female, redefine the gender so that I can be feminine and still open doors for people, pay for dinner on dates, push people around in mosh pits and not give a shit about nails or makeup.
The prospect of that makes me feel very tired just thinking about it, but it would probably do the world more good than me sitting around complaining about how straight guys don't accept me ;)
Update, 7/29/15: This post keeps popping up as the most popular post on my blog, and so I thought I ought to point out that it doesn't reflect how I see myself at all anymore. It was followed by this realization, and as of summer 2015, this post most accurately reflects how I see myself at this time. You can read a lot more about my identity in all these posts about gender identity and this one about my sexual orientation.
At the same time, I must acknowledge that this post about not feeling very feminine seems to resonate with a lot of female-assigned people - some of whom ended up being trans or non-binary, but also with cis women who just don't feel feminine. Based on the feedback I got right after writing this post, it seemed I had said something that a lot of female-assigned people that I knew were thinking and feeling. That's the primary reason I've left it up after all this time, when it doesn't really represent who I am anymore. It probably still speaks to someone, and if so, more power to you.
I don't really know how much of this I share with other bisexual women - whether they also feel like being "the guy" sometimes, and don't feel very feminine most of the time. I do know that I vastly prefer a relationship without prescribed gender roles, where we can make it up as we go along, and I can be the way I feel like being, not what society says a human in a female body should be like.
It's not that I want to be a guy or that I don't want to be female. I'm fine with inhabiting a female body and even with dressing in a way that shows it off to a certain degree - although I kind of hope that with my sailor arms, even girlie shirts and tank tops look a bit macho on me ;) Mainly, I just feel that I don't fit in with other women, or more like with the conventional idea of how women behave. Part of this stems from a frightening level of internalized misogyny - women are shallow creatures who only care about shopping and getting their nails done, women are catty and gossipy - yikes! Where did that come from?!
I would venture probably from my rather judgmental mother, who dislikes shopping, fancy nails, makeup and all those other things that I grew up regarding as "feminine." I suppose I didn't really have a very positive idea of what being feminine meant while I was growing up, so I tried to avoid it. But not being able to (and not wanting to) be totally masculine either, I ended up in a sort of genderless void.
I suppose as a feminist I should try to reclaim being female, redefine the gender so that I can be feminine and still open doors for people, pay for dinner on dates, push people around in mosh pits and not give a shit about nails or makeup.
The prospect of that makes me feel very tired just thinking about it, but it would probably do the world more good than me sitting around complaining about how straight guys don't accept me ;)
Update, 7/29/15: This post keeps popping up as the most popular post on my blog, and so I thought I ought to point out that it doesn't reflect how I see myself at all anymore. It was followed by this realization, and as of summer 2015, this post most accurately reflects how I see myself at this time. You can read a lot more about my identity in all these posts about gender identity and this one about my sexual orientation.
At the same time, I must acknowledge that this post about not feeling very feminine seems to resonate with a lot of female-assigned people - some of whom ended up being trans or non-binary, but also with cis women who just don't feel feminine. Based on the feedback I got right after writing this post, it seemed I had said something that a lot of female-assigned people that I knew were thinking and feeling. That's the primary reason I've left it up after all this time, when it doesn't really represent who I am anymore. It probably still speaks to someone, and if so, more power to you.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Being a better anti-racist
Awhile back I found this list of "Common Racist Attitudes and Behaviors (that indicate a wrong turn into white guilt, denial or defensiveness)." Being that I feel more motivated by positive directives rather than being told don't do this and don't do that, I decided to write a list of attitudes and behaviors that an anti-racist should embrace.
That being said, I think it is important to read the original list as well. There are a lot of particular phrases and arguments in there that it would do well to steer clear of. So after checking out that list, here's my list of things I feel one should do to be a better anti-racist. It's long and jumps about a bit and repeats itself slightly - but hopefully there are some nuggets of wisdom in there anyway. Most of these points could be applied to other forms of discrimination and prejudice as well.
Last disclaimer: I didn't know or come up with most of this stuff - I'm just spouting my reflections on the St. Cloud document I linked to above. The real credit goes to them for compiling that very eye-opening list of racist attitudes and behaviors. Here are my thoughts on how to take action on them:
1. Celebrate different appearances and cultures. There is so much richness in the world! There's no need to try and ignore it and make everyone the same. Same is boring!
2. Realize that racism may have played a role in your success and that of others in your family, community, etc. Realize that racism still exists and is still making it harder for people of color to succeed. The playing field is not level. Do what you can to be fair to each individual based on this realization. Fair is not equal. Fair is what's right based on the situation. (Maybe more later on this slogan that I stole from teaching!)
3. Confront your privilege, not people who are pointing it out or reacting to it. It might feel uncomfortable. That's not reverse racism. That's just your conscience. It's ok. It's good that you have one. Now, use that conscience and discomfort to sympathize with people of color and to get energized for acting against racism.
4. Take responsibility. Even if you were not directly responsible for a racist incident, racism as a whole is the fault of white people. (In the US, anyway. In other countries, things may be different, such as Asian countries where one dominant ethnic group is favored over others.) Trying to shift the blame is grossly unfair. Instead, accept the problem and tackle it head on.
5. Work with people of color, not for them. We can only achieve progress against racism through understanding, cooperation and unity. If you're so inclined, get to know people of color and work with them to fight racism. If you're not so inclined...well, it's going to be hard for you to fight racism if you don't actually know any people of color.
6. Listen. If people of color are hurt or offended by something you or others do, it's a sign you should change it and/or oppose it. Even if it was a joke. Why would you want to continue doing something that hurts others??
7. Examine your thoughts and behavior. Especially if you have been called out for doing or saying something racist. Racism is very insidious. I still catch myself making assumptions about people based on race. It could be something automatic you don't even think about, or a way of thinking or perceiving people that you don't even realize is racist. The first step to solving the problem is acknowledging it. To change my thoughts, I adopted the slogan "we're all people" to stop myself from judging others based on skin color (sexual orientation, income level, etc) and remind myself of everyone's basic worth as a human being.
8. Use your own experience to empathize, but not to divert attention. Internally, you can think about the times you faced oppression or hardship in order to create compassion for a person facing racism. Externally, talking about your experience will probably not help, just like if a friend came to you with a problem and you just blabbed about yourself instead of listening to him or her.
9. Educate yourself. There's no excuse for not knowing about the state of the world today. You have news at your fingertips, and if you read it, you will find that sadly, there is very much that is unjust going on in the world. (This is something I need to work on myself - I don't read the news nearly often enough.)
10. Stay focused. There are times when multiple forms of oppression need to be addressed at once, or when you may need to ally with people fighting other forms of discrimination (see #17). But if other forms of oppression are not relevant to the issue at hand, then you should stay focused on the problem of racism, and not bring up other topics.
11. Examine institutions critically. Racism is institutionalized. That's what makes it racism and not just prejudice. Society as a whole has ingrained patterns that discriminate against people of color, and institutions such as law enforcement, schools, media and business reflect these patterns. Question the messages that institutions send.
12. It's not who you know, it's what you do. Just having personal interactions with people of color isn't usually enough to make someone an anti-racist. You have to be willing to question your actions and beliefs, question the way our society works and take action to change things.
13. Do something! It can be scary to confront racism, but imagine how much worse it is for the person experiencing it. Saying sorry afterward is too late - do what you can to stop racism when/before it happens. Better yet, get involved in a larger effort to stop racism altogether.
14. Educate others. Instead of making excuses for your friend or relative who says or does racist things, communicate with that person about why what they're doing is offensive and hurtful. It might take several tries. It might take a lifetime. Nothing's going to change if you don't try.
15. Realize that racism is the default in US society. Everyone has it; it's transmitted to us by our parents, our schools and communities, the media, filling us with assumptions about people we've never met, assumptions that breed misunderstanding, fear, dislike, intolerance and hate, assumptions that are heavily skewed to give power to whites and deny it to people of color. And because everyone has it, it's everyone's problem. You can't avoid it. In order to change things, everyone has to acknowledge the problem and work together for a more just society.
16. Make yourself something to be proud of. You don't need to appropriate someone else's culture to show how enlightened you are. Doing so is actually just another form of oppression. Instead, make yourself and your culture something to be proud of, by showing compassion and understanding for others, refusing to oppress others and working to dismantle the societal patterns that do so. You have the power to give up your power. Don't run away from that decision by pretending to be something you're not!
17. Make anti-racism part of your portfolio. So you're a gay rights activist, or an activist for people with disabilities, or a feminist. That's great! Why not also be an anti-racist? Why stand for any kind of discrimination or oppression? We should take a stand against oppression whenever and wherever we see it - no one of these causes takes precedence over another, and there's no reason why if you stand for one, you can't stand for the others as well.
18. Address the overall problem. Racism is not just individual acts of prejudice, it's a pattern of such acts that forms an institution of oppression against people of color. Individual acts of prejudice are generally signs of that pattern acting itself out in your group, community, organization, etc. To solve the problem and stop further acts of prejudice, you need to address the underlying pattern - racism - and not just the individual acts. (This may take time, of course.)
19. Act naturally. There's no need to treat people of color (or anyone who's different from yourself) with kid gloves. Just be yourself, and be fair.
20. Do your own work. Take the initiative to learn about racism and how to fight it, rather than passively depending on people of color to just call you out when you accidentally act racist. You don't want to just stand by while oppression is going on! There are tons of resources out there to learn about racism (and I'll be posting more on it myself). This site is a good start. http://racism.org/
21. Be understanding toward other white people. You were once in their shoes as some "less knowledgeable" about racism. You may still have racist assumptions that pop up from time to time (I know I do!). Nobody's perfect, and sympathy and gentle correction go a lot further to changing minds than do anger and frustration.
22. Walk the walk. Wimps and poseurs, leave the hall! Just appearing anti-racist is not going to change anything - you need to take decisive action to make a difference.
23. Think big. As some previous points have explained, racism is an institution. Changing your own behavior goes a tiny way toward making change, but significant change can only be effected by tackling the systemic patterns of racism throughout society.
24. Broaden your circle. Make an extra effort to include people of color in your social activities. For me personally, this means making an effort to talk to people of color at metal concerts and goth/industrial clubs, so that they feel welcome. This is necessary because these events are generally dominated by white people, even though metal and goth/industrial culture are for everyone. In the face of this exclusiveness, an extra effort is needed to make people of color feel welcome. (This doesn't mean any special treatment. Just being friendly, so they don't feel left out in a sea of whiteness. "Hey, cool shirt, man," is probably the most I could manage with most people, but who knows, I might make some new friends :) )
25. Give generously. There's no need to keep a tally of how many anti-racist actions you've taken, or to expect anything in return, not even thanks. (See #25) Give freely of your time, energy and material resources without keeping score.
26. Speak up! Standing by while racism happens is colluding with racism. It can be scary to speak up, whether the person you need to speak up to is your friend or your boss, and there may even be times when it actually is better to remain silent for now, and take action later (as mentioned in the St. Cloud document itself). Remind yourself that nothing worth doing is easy, and screw your courage to the sticking place and take a stand.
27. Do it for yourself. Of course fighting racism helps people of color, but expecting their gratitude should not be your motivation for doing so. Find the motivation within yourself - to fight racism because it's the right thing to do, because it will make the world better for everybody - including yourself.
28. Perseverance! This issue's roots stretch back centuries. One challenged remark or blog post or campaign isn't going to solve it. Dig in for the long haul, because we may well be fighting this battle for the rest of our lives. But it's a good fight, and we can do it - through perseverance, against all opposition!
That being said, I think it is important to read the original list as well. There are a lot of particular phrases and arguments in there that it would do well to steer clear of. So after checking out that list, here's my list of things I feel one should do to be a better anti-racist. It's long and jumps about a bit and repeats itself slightly - but hopefully there are some nuggets of wisdom in there anyway. Most of these points could be applied to other forms of discrimination and prejudice as well.
Last disclaimer: I didn't know or come up with most of this stuff - I'm just spouting my reflections on the St. Cloud document I linked to above. The real credit goes to them for compiling that very eye-opening list of racist attitudes and behaviors. Here are my thoughts on how to take action on them:
1. Celebrate different appearances and cultures. There is so much richness in the world! There's no need to try and ignore it and make everyone the same. Same is boring!
2. Realize that racism may have played a role in your success and that of others in your family, community, etc. Realize that racism still exists and is still making it harder for people of color to succeed. The playing field is not level. Do what you can to be fair to each individual based on this realization. Fair is not equal. Fair is what's right based on the situation. (Maybe more later on this slogan that I stole from teaching!)
3. Confront your privilege, not people who are pointing it out or reacting to it. It might feel uncomfortable. That's not reverse racism. That's just your conscience. It's ok. It's good that you have one. Now, use that conscience and discomfort to sympathize with people of color and to get energized for acting against racism.
4. Take responsibility. Even if you were not directly responsible for a racist incident, racism as a whole is the fault of white people. (In the US, anyway. In other countries, things may be different, such as Asian countries where one dominant ethnic group is favored over others.) Trying to shift the blame is grossly unfair. Instead, accept the problem and tackle it head on.
5. Work with people of color, not for them. We can only achieve progress against racism through understanding, cooperation and unity. If you're so inclined, get to know people of color and work with them to fight racism. If you're not so inclined...well, it's going to be hard for you to fight racism if you don't actually know any people of color.
6. Listen. If people of color are hurt or offended by something you or others do, it's a sign you should change it and/or oppose it. Even if it was a joke. Why would you want to continue doing something that hurts others??
7. Examine your thoughts and behavior. Especially if you have been called out for doing or saying something racist. Racism is very insidious. I still catch myself making assumptions about people based on race. It could be something automatic you don't even think about, or a way of thinking or perceiving people that you don't even realize is racist. The first step to solving the problem is acknowledging it. To change my thoughts, I adopted the slogan "we're all people" to stop myself from judging others based on skin color (sexual orientation, income level, etc) and remind myself of everyone's basic worth as a human being.
8. Use your own experience to empathize, but not to divert attention. Internally, you can think about the times you faced oppression or hardship in order to create compassion for a person facing racism. Externally, talking about your experience will probably not help, just like if a friend came to you with a problem and you just blabbed about yourself instead of listening to him or her.
9. Educate yourself. There's no excuse for not knowing about the state of the world today. You have news at your fingertips, and if you read it, you will find that sadly, there is very much that is unjust going on in the world. (This is something I need to work on myself - I don't read the news nearly often enough.)
10. Stay focused. There are times when multiple forms of oppression need to be addressed at once, or when you may need to ally with people fighting other forms of discrimination (see #17). But if other forms of oppression are not relevant to the issue at hand, then you should stay focused on the problem of racism, and not bring up other topics.
11. Examine institutions critically. Racism is institutionalized. That's what makes it racism and not just prejudice. Society as a whole has ingrained patterns that discriminate against people of color, and institutions such as law enforcement, schools, media and business reflect these patterns. Question the messages that institutions send.
12. It's not who you know, it's what you do. Just having personal interactions with people of color isn't usually enough to make someone an anti-racist. You have to be willing to question your actions and beliefs, question the way our society works and take action to change things.
13. Do something! It can be scary to confront racism, but imagine how much worse it is for the person experiencing it. Saying sorry afterward is too late - do what you can to stop racism when/before it happens. Better yet, get involved in a larger effort to stop racism altogether.
14. Educate others. Instead of making excuses for your friend or relative who says or does racist things, communicate with that person about why what they're doing is offensive and hurtful. It might take several tries. It might take a lifetime. Nothing's going to change if you don't try.
15. Realize that racism is the default in US society. Everyone has it; it's transmitted to us by our parents, our schools and communities, the media, filling us with assumptions about people we've never met, assumptions that breed misunderstanding, fear, dislike, intolerance and hate, assumptions that are heavily skewed to give power to whites and deny it to people of color. And because everyone has it, it's everyone's problem. You can't avoid it. In order to change things, everyone has to acknowledge the problem and work together for a more just society.
16. Make yourself something to be proud of. You don't need to appropriate someone else's culture to show how enlightened you are. Doing so is actually just another form of oppression. Instead, make yourself and your culture something to be proud of, by showing compassion and understanding for others, refusing to oppress others and working to dismantle the societal patterns that do so. You have the power to give up your power. Don't run away from that decision by pretending to be something you're not!
17. Make anti-racism part of your portfolio. So you're a gay rights activist, or an activist for people with disabilities, or a feminist. That's great! Why not also be an anti-racist? Why stand for any kind of discrimination or oppression? We should take a stand against oppression whenever and wherever we see it - no one of these causes takes precedence over another, and there's no reason why if you stand for one, you can't stand for the others as well.
18. Address the overall problem. Racism is not just individual acts of prejudice, it's a pattern of such acts that forms an institution of oppression against people of color. Individual acts of prejudice are generally signs of that pattern acting itself out in your group, community, organization, etc. To solve the problem and stop further acts of prejudice, you need to address the underlying pattern - racism - and not just the individual acts. (This may take time, of course.)
19. Act naturally. There's no need to treat people of color (or anyone who's different from yourself) with kid gloves. Just be yourself, and be fair.
20. Do your own work. Take the initiative to learn about racism and how to fight it, rather than passively depending on people of color to just call you out when you accidentally act racist. You don't want to just stand by while oppression is going on! There are tons of resources out there to learn about racism (and I'll be posting more on it myself). This site is a good start. http://racism.org/
21. Be understanding toward other white people. You were once in their shoes as some "less knowledgeable" about racism. You may still have racist assumptions that pop up from time to time (I know I do!). Nobody's perfect, and sympathy and gentle correction go a lot further to changing minds than do anger and frustration.
22. Walk the walk. Wimps and poseurs, leave the hall! Just appearing anti-racist is not going to change anything - you need to take decisive action to make a difference.
23. Think big. As some previous points have explained, racism is an institution. Changing your own behavior goes a tiny way toward making change, but significant change can only be effected by tackling the systemic patterns of racism throughout society.
24. Broaden your circle. Make an extra effort to include people of color in your social activities. For me personally, this means making an effort to talk to people of color at metal concerts and goth/industrial clubs, so that they feel welcome. This is necessary because these events are generally dominated by white people, even though metal and goth/industrial culture are for everyone. In the face of this exclusiveness, an extra effort is needed to make people of color feel welcome. (This doesn't mean any special treatment. Just being friendly, so they don't feel left out in a sea of whiteness. "Hey, cool shirt, man," is probably the most I could manage with most people, but who knows, I might make some new friends :) )
25. Give generously. There's no need to keep a tally of how many anti-racist actions you've taken, or to expect anything in return, not even thanks. (See #25) Give freely of your time, energy and material resources without keeping score.
26. Speak up! Standing by while racism happens is colluding with racism. It can be scary to speak up, whether the person you need to speak up to is your friend or your boss, and there may even be times when it actually is better to remain silent for now, and take action later (as mentioned in the St. Cloud document itself). Remind yourself that nothing worth doing is easy, and screw your courage to the sticking place and take a stand.
27. Do it for yourself. Of course fighting racism helps people of color, but expecting their gratitude should not be your motivation for doing so. Find the motivation within yourself - to fight racism because it's the right thing to do, because it will make the world better for everybody - including yourself.
28. Perseverance! This issue's roots stretch back centuries. One challenged remark or blog post or campaign isn't going to solve it. Dig in for the long haul, because we may well be fighting this battle for the rest of our lives. But it's a good fight, and we can do it - through perseverance, against all opposition!
Monday, March 3, 2014
Loving Without Suffering (Part 1?)
Love is painful. We seem to accept this, that no matter whether it's longing for a love interest who may or may not be available, or grieving the loss of someone who no longer wants to be involved in the way they were before, or worrying about the future of a relationship that's weathering problems. Love involves longing for something we may not be able to have, something that might seem elusive and uncertain. In poly relationships, love can seem to bring extra suffering in the form of jealousy, which often stems from the fear of losing a loved one to someone else.
But this kind of suffering doesn't really come from love. Love is a giving, accepting, nurturing feeling. Love doesn't confine or grasp. What's actually causing the suffering is attachment - the human desire to cling to what we have, our craving for permanence and stability.
The thing is though, that nothing lasts forever. Flowers bloom and turn into fruit, which then rots. Leaves grow, dry up, fall and grow again. On the cosmic scale, our sun will collapse on itself in trillions of years, and even the universe will eventually die. On the microscopic scale, our cells are constantly growing and dying. And our thoughts and feelings shift from moment to moment; we aren't even the same person we were a moment ago. This may seem like a "big picture" view, but why not look at the big picture? If you think about it, everything is constantly changing. So getting attached to things (people, relationships) necessarily causes suffering, since things will inevitably change.
This isn't to say we shouldn't care about other people, or take pleasure in the joy they bring us. (I think I'll need to write another post on this topic.) But clinging to people and the feelings they give us can cause suffering, since people change and situations change. It's necessary to have a balance, to love without clinging.
I'm going through a breakup of a serious relationship right now, which is what led me to reflect on this topic. Even though part of me thinks the breakup is for the best, another part of me still misses the past and wishes it could have continued. It's natural to grieve. I'm not denying that. But at the same time, I want to move on, to continue my life and embrace the things the future will bring.
To do that, I've been reminding myself that change is natural, in order to reduce my clinging to the past and my suffering because things can't stay the same. I'm a fan of mantras; I use them to redirect my thoughts and emotions in all kinds of situations. Some of the mantras I've used to deal with the gigantic changes in my life are:
One day last week, I was walking up to the office building where I work, and happened to be thinking how uncertainty made the whole world seem fresh - and suddenly I saw the blue sky outlined by the arches of the building's facade as though for the first time. Life is so amazing when you live every moment as though the world were brand new.
I should say, though, that although this thinking can reduce suffering, I don't think it will eliminate suffering altogether. It's human nature to become attached, to crave security and wish that good things could last forever. Realizing this and realizing that actually, the world is fluid and we can't actually keep anything should help reduce suffering - but the suffering will still initially happen, because we're human.
Also, this sort of thinking isn't just for dealing with breakups. One of the goals of the polyamory movement is to get away from possessiveness in relationships. Your partner doesn't belong to you. They're their own person, who can do whatever they want, really. I believe that reducing attachment to a person or relationship - reducing the need to keep and hold onto them - could also reduce the sense of possessiveness in a relationship, and lead to greater freedom and openness to what the future may bring.
My guide in this endeavor has been the Canadian Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön; her book The Places That Scare You has been a great source of wisdom. That was where I got the idea that rather than seeing the constant change of the world as something frightening and threatening, to be denied and avoided, we should see it as exciting - every moment is new, a moment that has never been before and never will be again. Many of the insights here come from Pema Chödrön or her teachers, I've just applied them to dealing with changes in relationships.
So how do you love someone without obsessing about "keeping" them? Well, I need to think about that some more, so expect a "part 2" later on addressing this question :)
But this kind of suffering doesn't really come from love. Love is a giving, accepting, nurturing feeling. Love doesn't confine or grasp. What's actually causing the suffering is attachment - the human desire to cling to what we have, our craving for permanence and stability.
The thing is though, that nothing lasts forever. Flowers bloom and turn into fruit, which then rots. Leaves grow, dry up, fall and grow again. On the cosmic scale, our sun will collapse on itself in trillions of years, and even the universe will eventually die. On the microscopic scale, our cells are constantly growing and dying. And our thoughts and feelings shift from moment to moment; we aren't even the same person we were a moment ago. This may seem like a "big picture" view, but why not look at the big picture? If you think about it, everything is constantly changing. So getting attached to things (people, relationships) necessarily causes suffering, since things will inevitably change.
This isn't to say we shouldn't care about other people, or take pleasure in the joy they bring us. (I think I'll need to write another post on this topic.) But clinging to people and the feelings they give us can cause suffering, since people change and situations change. It's necessary to have a balance, to love without clinging.
I'm going through a breakup of a serious relationship right now, which is what led me to reflect on this topic. Even though part of me thinks the breakup is for the best, another part of me still misses the past and wishes it could have continued. It's natural to grieve. I'm not denying that. But at the same time, I want to move on, to continue my life and embrace the things the future will bring.
To do that, I've been reminding myself that change is natural, in order to reduce my clinging to the past and my suffering because things can't stay the same. I'm a fan of mantras; I use them to redirect my thoughts and emotions in all kinds of situations. Some of the mantras I've used to deal with the gigantic changes in my life are:
- Nothing stays the same.
- Everything changes.
- Nothing lasts forever.
- Change is the only constant.
- No moment is like any other.
- Every moment is brand new.
- Anything can happen.
- Change is awesome.
- Life is exciting.
- Life is amazing!
One day last week, I was walking up to the office building where I work, and happened to be thinking how uncertainty made the whole world seem fresh - and suddenly I saw the blue sky outlined by the arches of the building's facade as though for the first time. Life is so amazing when you live every moment as though the world were brand new.
I should say, though, that although this thinking can reduce suffering, I don't think it will eliminate suffering altogether. It's human nature to become attached, to crave security and wish that good things could last forever. Realizing this and realizing that actually, the world is fluid and we can't actually keep anything should help reduce suffering - but the suffering will still initially happen, because we're human.
Also, this sort of thinking isn't just for dealing with breakups. One of the goals of the polyamory movement is to get away from possessiveness in relationships. Your partner doesn't belong to you. They're their own person, who can do whatever they want, really. I believe that reducing attachment to a person or relationship - reducing the need to keep and hold onto them - could also reduce the sense of possessiveness in a relationship, and lead to greater freedom and openness to what the future may bring.
My guide in this endeavor has been the Canadian Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön; her book The Places That Scare You has been a great source of wisdom. That was where I got the idea that rather than seeing the constant change of the world as something frightening and threatening, to be denied and avoided, we should see it as exciting - every moment is new, a moment that has never been before and never will be again. Many of the insights here come from Pema Chödrön or her teachers, I've just applied them to dealing with changes in relationships.
So how do you love someone without obsessing about "keeping" them? Well, I need to think about that some more, so expect a "part 2" later on addressing this question :)
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