Let’s catch up. Let’s purge. I posted a facebook status about gender fluidity and almost no one noticed, at least, not compared to the gay thing. It’s like that is less important or less real and people would rather not think about that so I’ve put it on the back of my mind.
But I want to get a binder and cross dress with coveralls.
I hate that even short hair is feminine, because whatever, so I just cover my hair like it’s alive or telepathic and can feel the assumptions of other people.
I’ve been talking loudly and in public about getting HPV (it fucking sucks) and having two boyfriends and I don’t fucking care because neither thing is anything I should be ashamed of or afraid. I’m not having sex till these warts are off my cooch and I’m going to complain as loud as I want.
I’m also not telling people I have two boyfriends, or saying that the guy I’m moving in with in the next few months (I ALREADY HAS KEY) is a boyfriend because I don’t want people to fucking assume it’s an escalator relationship and it’s my only relationship. Funny how people don’t want to congratulate you when there’s two, both emerging at the same time with fluctuating seriousness (good I don’t need their assumptions and well wishes jinxing my relationships anyway).
It’s killing me that this is even a secret or it is even considered wrong in some peoples eyes.. this is my fucking life.
I’m also terrified that this somehow erases my queer identity even though I fell in love with the female part of my genderfluid boyfriend first (but I can’t be outting him** as much as it would reassure me to be “seeeeeeee still queer” - I’m just scared I’m not believed, I’m not real, I’m not really into chicks but I can’t let that panic fear taint my interactions with women because that would turn into some weird validation seeking behavior and that’s not fair to anyone. It was scolded into me from very young that loving women is wrong and I’m sad that I’m still overcoming that, even though from the outside and my behaviour it would appear I’m more into men, but its more like social scripts and doing what I’m told and not really doing what I want and sometimes, often, even hurting myself through my casual encounters with them, kinda like this song)
**awareiamkindadoingthat butdontgivejudgmentalpricks accesstomytumblr besidestherestwosoyoudontknow whoimtalkingaboutanyways**
I’m learning that being in love with someone doesn’t equate to we must eagerly date and am learning to love from a less selfish place, where in I don’t have expectations of anyone (at least- AM TRYING; MUST ACHIEVE), or I don’t let my thoughts or hopes get ahead of where we are right now - trying to be honest about the evolution of feeling and not throwing labels on things before they have a chance to become something.
I wonder what life would be like if I stopped plucking my mustache.
I don’t know if I’m questioning gender or if I’m just sick of being interacted with as nothing more than a carrier of tits; I’m realizing a lot of shit like the very real constant threat of rape that I grew up with (real as in the fear was real, not that the fear was actually needed, but that it was taught to me that I wasn’t even safe in my home).
I get triggered by things sometimes now, usually things like hi, because it takes me back to my internet sex addiction wherein I hurt myself.
I’ve been getting tied up a lot. And I have a lot of bruises (the good kind).
Life is weird. I’m moving out soon.
I’m less confused, and just want more freedom, don’t know if I’ll ever have enough.
edit: how about this: I just don’t care about gender when it comes to dating anymore, they just gotta be knowledgeable about that shit but I’m sick of the typical presumptuous male onslaught wherein I end up hurting myself because of a learned obligation to interact despite disinterest
TRIGGER- sexual assault
things like guys telling me they have a penis like that’s fucking supposed to impress me because if I have tits I must like dick, said man trying to show off his abs and using that as justification to goose me, and then later pulling my *wig* hair to whisper in my ear things I don’t want to hear leaving me so shaken after I tell him off that I semi-disconnect from my body and dislocate my kneecap and fall down the stairs. End up taking a cab home alone from the bar because I can’t find the friend I came with *icanbarelywalk* and I’m so scared I ask to not be left alone ~ and I remember all the times I didn’t realize my body was mine on the dance floor and how disorienting it is at first to own myself. I realize now, that I haven’t really worn that fantastic wig since, and in a way, I’m scared to.
Why is it dangerous to be myself?
edit two - need to spend less time thinking about the societal objections to how I love and just love people.
We are tired of being analyzed, defined and represented by people other than ourselves, or worse yet, not considered at all. We are frustrated by the imposed isolation and invisibility that comes from being told or expected to choose either a homosexual or heterosexual identity.
Monosexuality is a heterosexist dictate used to oppress homosexuals and to negate the validity of bisexuality.
Bisexuality is a whole, fluid identity. Do not assume that bisexuality is binary or duogamous in nature: that we have "two" sides or that we must be involved simultaneously with both genders to be fulfilled human beings. In fact, don’t assume that there are only two genders. Do not mistake our fluidity for confusion, irresponsibility, or an inability to commit. Do not equate promiscuity, infidelity, or unsafe sexual behavior with bisexuality. Those are human traits that cross all sexual orientations. Nothing should be assumed about anyone’s sexuality, including your own.
We are angered by those who refuse to accept our existence; our issues; our contributions; our alliances; our voice. It is time for the bisexual voice to be heard.
Bisexual Manifesto (1990) historic declaration about what it means to be bisexual as defined by members of the bisexual community themselves from the magazine “Anything That Moves”, a literary, journalistic, and topical magazine published in the USA from 1990 to 2002. (via bialogue-group)
My dad called me a freeloading mess a few weeks ago and now everything I do to tidy up my life is tainted with this I don’t want to do it because you said so kind of feeling… My dreams and who I am and almost everything has changed in the last few months. I just, can’t chase this thing that I was chasing in the past. My interest in health care and policy was from a “I must fix it” perspective, and I learned the hard way that it is impossible for me to do that. It’s also not what I was made to do, not what I desire to do. I can’t let guilt over the world stop me from chasing my dreams. And those dreams right now might require a major career shift. Quitting this fab desk job and start working retails again, but in a rock/gem shop and in an awesome sex toy store. Those are what I’d like to do. And then work on my soft porn content and write my ass off. And save up enough money to go to Art School. I walked onto a campus somewhere and realized this is home and I need to purge my soul and that will inspire and uplift and bring to life all the things I wish I could do but can’t. But I’m not a freeloading fool, I have a plan, a big ambitious plan, dreams, things I can totally make happen. I just need time, and love and patience.