Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection
I will be honest and say that this was actually written on Wednesday, May 13th, with edits done throughout the end of the week. However, I found it extremely fitting to put it up as an introspection because...well, you'll see.
Let me start by saying this: It's interesting how, even when you think you've figured out everything, sometimes life opens things up to you in miraculous ways.
When I first came out as gay in 2011, I didn't realize at first that I was only taking the first step in the journey that was discovering my identity. As a child and even as a teenager, I have pictured myself in more masculine terms and ways. I was always considered a tomboy in my youth, keeping my hair extremely short and dressing in clothes that were more "male" by societal standards. Having the orthodontist office's automated appointment messages call me "Ben" for the first month or so of my process of getting braces didn't help, either.
By the time I was in middle school, I began to grow my hair out and wear more feminine clothes as my body went through puberty. My hair was the longest it had ever been when I was a sophomore in high school. I had a boyfriend, I wore a dress when he took me to his prom, and I even tried to wear jewelry every day to school. After a while, however, I transitioned back to wearing things like jeans and hooded sweatshirts and T-shirts because they felt like a nice, neutral outfit when I really wanted to be wearing blazers, slacks, vests, and neckties. I never went to my senior prom, but if I had, I would've wanted to go in a tuxedo (I hid the real reason for this by telling my family that I would be "making a statement." Looking back, it's a bit silly). My jewelry ultimately became very basic, consisting of my grandmother's class ring on a chain (which I still wear to this day) and maybe a watch or another ring on my right hand. Of course, now I also wear my engagement ring. The point is, when I was wearing skirts or dresses or high heels or make-up, I didn't feel like me. I felt like I was putting on a costume.
It wasn't until my last year in college, when I came out as gay and joined the Queer Straight Alliance at my university campus, that I began to dress the way I had always wanted to. I remember walking to class wearing a full-blown suit (with a Ravenclaw tie, of course) and a top hat that I had bought in Camden Town when I visited London back in 2010. I had a token vest that I always liked to wear. When I graduated, I went out and bought more jackets, more bowties, more pocket kerchiefs. My father, after some begging, even allowed me to take some of his ties that he never wore anymore. My mother and sister were both very supportive of me in my coming out process and my change in style, and they continue to be my biggest allies to this day. Several people initially had some difficulty handling my obvious and admittedly quick transition in my attire. I shrugged it off, happy, at least at first, to simply call myself a butch lesbian.
In the years since, I've found more and more that I am very comfortable being seen as a man or simply as androgynous. I've always been interested in being a drag king. I love the idea of using make-up and hair to make myself look like I have a beard and/or mustache. I love being called "sir" instead of "ma'am." Even though emotionally, I react as a stereotypical woman would, my stride, posture, and body language are all more stereotypically synonymous to society's expectations for men rather than women. When I wear a dress, it feels like a disguise. When I wear a suit, it feels like me.
I'm sure some of you reading, by now, are expecting me to come out as trans. You're waiting for it. "Belinda, you're a man, aren't you? You going to change your name to Benjamin or something? Guess the orthodontist was psychic." To which I'd say: First of all, try not being so tactless. There are lots of people who are trans, and they wouldn't appreciate your handling their struggles so flippantly. Second of all, don't jump to conclusions like that. I'm an English teacher. I want you to cite your evidence. And third of all, your face. Ha. I'm clever.
I'd also say: No. I'm not coming out as transgender male. Because that's not true.
I'm not transgender male. But I am trans in a different way.
I am genderfluid. Which falls under the umbrella known as non-binary.
Yes, genderfluid is the word I now use to describe my gender identity. Some people in my position would use bigender. Others would say genderqueer (which I view as an umbrella term as well, so yes, that's still accurate to me). Others still call themselves agender. But the idea of fluidity - a constant movement, a continuous flow in which my identity seamlessly shifts as per the desires I have and the expectations I've built in any situation - that fits me the most, in my opinion. And in this case, my opinion is the only opinion that matters.
Before I add anything more to this surprisingly long introspection (I'm sure you're very used to the short cop-outs by this point), let me try to break down a few questions that might be burning in your mind right now:
Number one: I am not changing my name. I like the name Belinda. I am Belinda. It suits me, and it has always suited me. Sure, maybe if I take on a stage name when I finally become a drag king, it'll be different. But my real name will always be Belinda, regardless of whatever gender I may or may not identify as.
Number two: My preferred pronouns are they/them. I will not be able to stop some loved ones from using she/her pronouns, but if others could use they/them, I would appreciate it. Those pronouns best represent my gender identity.
Number three: No, this does not mean I identify as heterosexual or bisexual. Sexual identity and gender identity are two very separate things, and sexuality/sexual orientation is an entirely different beast altogether. I identify very strongly as a homosexual. I am in a same-sex relationship with another woman. We are having a same-sex marriage. We are making a lot of fundamentalist Christians very, very angry. I wouldn't have it any other way.
And number four, and I think this is the most important thing for me to write here, as it will help me or anyone else who might be curious: This really doesn't change anything about the relationships I have or the dynamics I've built with my friends and family. Yes, in terms of my gender expression - my clothing, my body language, my demeanor - I am very masculine (by society's standards - I cannot clarify that enough. I know that masculinity is hugely subjective and I'm really clinging to the gender binary. I get it. But it's how I handle my identity, and it's how I'm most comfortable explaining it). Hell, I'd cut my hair shorter if my face wouldn't look so much bigger underneath a pixie style.*
Some of you may be thinking, "Well, you're not genderfluid. You're just super butch," or "You're not genderfluid. You're just a huge tomboy." Other people have told me that I shouldn't label myself, that I should just accept that I have both masculine and feminine traits but can still be just a woman. But it's really more than that. There are days in which I walk out of my apartment, very much in the head space of a man or simply someone who doesn't have a single gender. I feel like one of the guys when I hang out with my buddies. When I'm at bars and older men proceed to hit on me, I respond to them like a dude would to another dude. When I handle any sort of official business, like at work or in a more formal setting, or if I'm in a gym or a store, I like being a bit more "macho" (for lack of a better word. Again, lots of people who identify as women can have these traits. I am very much a feminist when it comes to how women can behave in any situation). When I hang out with other female-identifying friends of mine, I go back and forth from feeling more female to feeling more male. I feel extremely comfortable dressing up as a man and even putting on fake facial hair or wearing a binder (though that's more due to my dysphoria and dysmorphia). It's natural to me.
But in terms of my commitments and my relationships, I am still seen very much as female and am referred to using female monikers. To my immediate family, I am a daughter and a sister. To my relatives, I'm a niece or a future sister-in-law. I will eventually become my fiancée's wife, though once I have children, I would like to be called Papa. I know that to many of my peers and loved ones, I will still be considered a woman, and even I still technically consider myself a woman. But there have been too many times I've felt confused or I've questioned myself to simply call myself only a woman.
I can be both. I am both. I feel like I am both, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes individually. Sometimes, I don't even feel like a specific gender at all. It can change. One day, I feel as masculine as can be, and the next, I'm very much in a feminine mentality. Usually, however, I feel like both a man and a woman at the same time, neither side exactly fluctuating or drastically changing. Again, that's why the term fluidity feels the most accurate to my identity - my gender identity is a bit like water.** Usually, it's a consistent balance or flow between male and female. Other times, it recedes or surges, which can tip the balance a little bit.
I'm hoping that makes some fraction of sense to someone. Fortunately, the few people I have already come out to, including my sister and my fiancée, pretty much understand it.
Please keep in mind that the way I discuss my masculinity and femininity, by the way, is a personal view that not everyone shares with me. One major point I want to lay out is that the gender binary can be very dangerous, and a lot of people fall into the category of non-binary, in which they don't fit into any box and they don't like conforming to societal standards of gender roles and norms. I applaud those people. Those people are the reason why I am brave enough to type this now, to be true to myself and comfortable with myself without feeling like I have to excuse my more androgynous behavior as simply dressing a part or playing a role. I've been so scared for so many years about being seen as "middle of the spectrum" or not being "absolutist" about my gender, partly because I've been told by society that it's wishy-washy, or indecisive, and if I have a "choice," why not go the cis-hetero or the cis-homo route and be done with it? But as we all know, it's not that simple. It can't be that simple. If it were, I wouldn't be me. And that's why I'm done being afraid.
I want to directly thank Jackson Bird for finally giving me the kick in the pants I needed to write this introspection. Recently, Jackson, who is a Youtuber and a Harry Potter nerd like me, came out as transgender on his channel, and his words gave me the confidence to defy the binary and realize that I straddle the middle of it like some sort of mechanical bull that I've been trying to control for years now. To Jackson, there are not enough words to express my gratitude and my happiness that you are now being true to yourself and living a better life as a result. Now I can be there with you and finally live a full and honest life. It has been a long time coming.
If you want to see more of Jackson's stuff like his "Will It Waffle?" series for something lighter and fluffier (pun definitely intended), feel free to look him up on Youtube. His content is definitely worth it. I've put his coming out video below this paragraph.
So, in conclusion to this very long blog entry, if you want to be overtly technical and hurt other people's heads for the sake of labeling and discourse: I am a genderfluid, or non-binary, gay woman.
But if you want to be simple, let's just say that Belinda isn't just one or two things. Belinda is many things. A writer, a performer, a musician, a bookworm, a teacher, a twin, a woman. Gay and non-binary. In love with a woman. A future wife and parent. A king and a queen. Happy.
And I think that's the most I can ask out of life, is to just be happy.
Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone. Thank you for reading. And thank you for being you.
* The following week after I put up this introspection, I actually did get my hair done in a pixie cut. And guess what? I look freaking fantastic. So take that, gender norms!
** Another way I would describe my gender fluidity is as follows: Imagine you are making a vinaigrette for your salad. The two primary ingredients are olive oil and vinegar, and you shake them up to make dressing. Now, imagine the olive oil is my male side, and the vinegar - which is heavier than the olive oil and more of a foundation if the two separate - is my female side. Both are integral ingredients, but you don't have me without mixing them both together. Sometimes they're more separate, but other times, they're shaken up and delicious.
That's right - my gender identity is a salad dressing. Beat that.
Let me start by saying this: It's interesting how, even when you think you've figured out everything, sometimes life opens things up to you in miraculous ways.
When I first came out as gay in 2011, I didn't realize at first that I was only taking the first step in the journey that was discovering my identity. As a child and even as a teenager, I have pictured myself in more masculine terms and ways. I was always considered a tomboy in my youth, keeping my hair extremely short and dressing in clothes that were more "male" by societal standards. Having the orthodontist office's automated appointment messages call me "Ben" for the first month or so of my process of getting braces didn't help, either.
By the time I was in middle school, I began to grow my hair out and wear more feminine clothes as my body went through puberty. My hair was the longest it had ever been when I was a sophomore in high school. I had a boyfriend, I wore a dress when he took me to his prom, and I even tried to wear jewelry every day to school. After a while, however, I transitioned back to wearing things like jeans and hooded sweatshirts and T-shirts because they felt like a nice, neutral outfit when I really wanted to be wearing blazers, slacks, vests, and neckties. I never went to my senior prom, but if I had, I would've wanted to go in a tuxedo (I hid the real reason for this by telling my family that I would be "making a statement." Looking back, it's a bit silly). My jewelry ultimately became very basic, consisting of my grandmother's class ring on a chain (which I still wear to this day) and maybe a watch or another ring on my right hand. Of course, now I also wear my engagement ring. The point is, when I was wearing skirts or dresses or high heels or make-up, I didn't feel like me. I felt like I was putting on a costume.
It wasn't until my last year in college, when I came out as gay and joined the Queer Straight Alliance at my university campus, that I began to dress the way I had always wanted to. I remember walking to class wearing a full-blown suit (with a Ravenclaw tie, of course) and a top hat that I had bought in Camden Town when I visited London back in 2010. I had a token vest that I always liked to wear. When I graduated, I went out and bought more jackets, more bowties, more pocket kerchiefs. My father, after some begging, even allowed me to take some of his ties that he never wore anymore. My mother and sister were both very supportive of me in my coming out process and my change in style, and they continue to be my biggest allies to this day. Several people initially had some difficulty handling my obvious and admittedly quick transition in my attire. I shrugged it off, happy, at least at first, to simply call myself a butch lesbian.
In the years since, I've found more and more that I am very comfortable being seen as a man or simply as androgynous. I've always been interested in being a drag king. I love the idea of using make-up and hair to make myself look like I have a beard and/or mustache. I love being called "sir" instead of "ma'am." Even though emotionally, I react as a stereotypical woman would, my stride, posture, and body language are all more stereotypically synonymous to society's expectations for men rather than women. When I wear a dress, it feels like a disguise. When I wear a suit, it feels like me.
I'm sure some of you reading, by now, are expecting me to come out as trans. You're waiting for it. "Belinda, you're a man, aren't you? You going to change your name to Benjamin or something? Guess the orthodontist was psychic." To which I'd say: First of all, try not being so tactless. There are lots of people who are trans, and they wouldn't appreciate your handling their struggles so flippantly. Second of all, don't jump to conclusions like that. I'm an English teacher. I want you to cite your evidence. And third of all, your face. Ha. I'm clever.
I'd also say: No. I'm not coming out as transgender male. Because that's not true.
I'm not transgender male. But I am trans in a different way.
I am genderfluid. Which falls under the umbrella known as non-binary.
Yes, genderfluid is the word I now use to describe my gender identity. Some people in my position would use bigender. Others would say genderqueer (which I view as an umbrella term as well, so yes, that's still accurate to me). Others still call themselves agender. But the idea of fluidity - a constant movement, a continuous flow in which my identity seamlessly shifts as per the desires I have and the expectations I've built in any situation - that fits me the most, in my opinion. And in this case, my opinion is the only opinion that matters.
Before I add anything more to this surprisingly long introspection (I'm sure you're very used to the short cop-outs by this point), let me try to break down a few questions that might be burning in your mind right now:
Number one: I am not changing my name. I like the name Belinda. I am Belinda. It suits me, and it has always suited me. Sure, maybe if I take on a stage name when I finally become a drag king, it'll be different. But my real name will always be Belinda, regardless of whatever gender I may or may not identify as.
Number two: My preferred pronouns are they/them. I will not be able to stop some loved ones from using she/her pronouns, but if others could use they/them, I would appreciate it. Those pronouns best represent my gender identity.
Number three: No, this does not mean I identify as heterosexual or bisexual. Sexual identity and gender identity are two very separate things, and sexuality/sexual orientation is an entirely different beast altogether. I identify very strongly as a homosexual. I am in a same-sex relationship with another woman. We are having a same-sex marriage. We are making a lot of fundamentalist Christians very, very angry. I wouldn't have it any other way.
And number four, and I think this is the most important thing for me to write here, as it will help me or anyone else who might be curious: This really doesn't change anything about the relationships I have or the dynamics I've built with my friends and family. Yes, in terms of my gender expression - my clothing, my body language, my demeanor - I am very masculine (by society's standards - I cannot clarify that enough. I know that masculinity is hugely subjective and I'm really clinging to the gender binary. I get it. But it's how I handle my identity, and it's how I'm most comfortable explaining it). Hell, I'd cut my hair shorter if my face wouldn't look so much bigger underneath a pixie style.*
Some of you may be thinking, "Well, you're not genderfluid. You're just super butch," or "You're not genderfluid. You're just a huge tomboy." Other people have told me that I shouldn't label myself, that I should just accept that I have both masculine and feminine traits but can still be just a woman. But it's really more than that. There are days in which I walk out of my apartment, very much in the head space of a man or simply someone who doesn't have a single gender. I feel like one of the guys when I hang out with my buddies. When I'm at bars and older men proceed to hit on me, I respond to them like a dude would to another dude. When I handle any sort of official business, like at work or in a more formal setting, or if I'm in a gym or a store, I like being a bit more "macho" (for lack of a better word. Again, lots of people who identify as women can have these traits. I am very much a feminist when it comes to how women can behave in any situation). When I hang out with other female-identifying friends of mine, I go back and forth from feeling more female to feeling more male. I feel extremely comfortable dressing up as a man and even putting on fake facial hair or wearing a binder (though that's more due to my dysphoria and dysmorphia). It's natural to me.
But in terms of my commitments and my relationships, I am still seen very much as female and am referred to using female monikers. To my immediate family, I am a daughter and a sister. To my relatives, I'm a niece or a future sister-in-law. I will eventually become my fiancée's wife, though once I have children, I would like to be called Papa. I know that to many of my peers and loved ones, I will still be considered a woman, and even I still technically consider myself a woman. But there have been too many times I've felt confused or I've questioned myself to simply call myself only a woman.
I can be both. I am both. I feel like I am both, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes individually. Sometimes, I don't even feel like a specific gender at all. It can change. One day, I feel as masculine as can be, and the next, I'm very much in a feminine mentality. Usually, however, I feel like both a man and a woman at the same time, neither side exactly fluctuating or drastically changing. Again, that's why the term fluidity feels the most accurate to my identity - my gender identity is a bit like water.** Usually, it's a consistent balance or flow between male and female. Other times, it recedes or surges, which can tip the balance a little bit.
I'm hoping that makes some fraction of sense to someone. Fortunately, the few people I have already come out to, including my sister and my fiancée, pretty much understand it.
Please keep in mind that the way I discuss my masculinity and femininity, by the way, is a personal view that not everyone shares with me. One major point I want to lay out is that the gender binary can be very dangerous, and a lot of people fall into the category of non-binary, in which they don't fit into any box and they don't like conforming to societal standards of gender roles and norms. I applaud those people. Those people are the reason why I am brave enough to type this now, to be true to myself and comfortable with myself without feeling like I have to excuse my more androgynous behavior as simply dressing a part or playing a role. I've been so scared for so many years about being seen as "middle of the spectrum" or not being "absolutist" about my gender, partly because I've been told by society that it's wishy-washy, or indecisive, and if I have a "choice," why not go the cis-hetero or the cis-homo route and be done with it? But as we all know, it's not that simple. It can't be that simple. If it were, I wouldn't be me. And that's why I'm done being afraid.
I want to directly thank Jackson Bird for finally giving me the kick in the pants I needed to write this introspection. Recently, Jackson, who is a Youtuber and a Harry Potter nerd like me, came out as transgender on his channel, and his words gave me the confidence to defy the binary and realize that I straddle the middle of it like some sort of mechanical bull that I've been trying to control for years now. To Jackson, there are not enough words to express my gratitude and my happiness that you are now being true to yourself and living a better life as a result. Now I can be there with you and finally live a full and honest life. It has been a long time coming.
If you want to see more of Jackson's stuff like his "Will It Waffle?" series for something lighter and fluffier (pun definitely intended), feel free to look him up on Youtube. His content is definitely worth it. I've put his coming out video below this paragraph.
So, in conclusion to this very long blog entry, if you want to be overtly technical and hurt other people's heads for the sake of labeling and discourse: I am a genderfluid, or non-binary, gay woman.
But if you want to be simple, let's just say that Belinda isn't just one or two things. Belinda is many things. A writer, a performer, a musician, a bookworm, a teacher, a twin, a woman. Gay and non-binary. In love with a woman. A future wife and parent. A king and a queen. Happy.
And I think that's the most I can ask out of life, is to just be happy.
Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone. Thank you for reading. And thank you for being you.
* The following week after I put up this introspection, I actually did get my hair done in a pixie cut. And guess what? I look freaking fantastic. So take that, gender norms!
** Another way I would describe my gender fluidity is as follows: Imagine you are making a vinaigrette for your salad. The two primary ingredients are olive oil and vinegar, and you shake them up to make dressing. Now, imagine the olive oil is my male side, and the vinegar - which is heavier than the olive oil and more of a foundation if the two separate - is my female side. Both are integral ingredients, but you don't have me without mixing them both together. Sometimes they're more separate, but other times, they're shaken up and delicious.
That's right - my gender identity is a salad dressing. Beat that.
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