You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.
– Buddha
We all have insecurities. Unfortunately, they don’t subside with years, job titles, or fanciful thought. In fact, I would be willing to bet that the aforementioned only exacerbate that which we hold so tightly, and secretively on to.
Which warrants a critical conversation on our culture’s proclivity toward dismissing the subjective, or at very least containing it. As a society, we have compartmentalized times for talking about our feelings and emotions rather than making it a deeply integrated part of our daily interactions with one another. I believe that we need to provide the safe space necessary to foster healthy and meaningful relationships with each other that result in open discussions about our personal misgivings.
Suffice it to say, my sister’s courageous statement of self-love in a moment of
self-doubt has produced such a space; I feel it wise to make use of such an opportune moment. In the words of Marianne Williamson, “As we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.”
So, here goes. If my sister can lament of body image, I have the now have the ability to publicly proclaim that, since I was a child, I have struggled to rectify my internalized identity with my outward expression.
Growing up, gender norms were reinforced quite strictly. My mother’s telling of my birth always details the fact that she “waited 18 years for a girl.” And she never lets me forget it. Though she may have finally gotten her girl, my refusal to wear dresses on occasions that required them became a repeat topic of discussion. And, I cannot count the number of times I was made to play house with my sister in lieu of football with my brothers.
“I wish I had been born a boy,” I thought to myself.
It seemed like the only logical solution. I had grown weary of the constant corrections – and reminders – of proscribed gender roles and my inability to properly fulfill them. Fortunately, my understanding of gender identity and expression has changed quite dramatically since childhood.
Through many evolutions of thought and awareness of self, coupled with the many encounters of supportive individuals that I now call community, I am able to succinctly describe why it is that I reject the gender binary. Not in an attempt to be countercultural, but in order to free myself (and others) from the confines of a social construct I (nor they) have never agreed to.
I am a self-described genderqueer.
For the most part, I now can confront the looks of confusion or embarrassment – and sometime both – that come with the length of my hair and the skinny ties that I wear. And I am also more than accustomed to adults and children alike asking, “Are you a boy or a girl?”
But. Why does that matter? Why should that matter?
I am who I want to be(come).
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