Courage

I don’t know why it got to me but it really did, when guys were flocked around my female friend and only put up with my presence because I was the friend, yes, alright, I get that, but there was no need to say "don't fucking touch me." Ouch. I'm trying to keep in mind how that makes me seen as a very much masculine entity to the boys, because in theory...I mean, if I squint... it means that I've passed as male in their subconscious without even trying. Atleast, that's what I'm telling myself to make it stop hurting.  

I cant help but think though, that with all of the emphasis that I place on passing its all a little bit pointless. No one is going to know about my gender identity until I come out to them, and to do that i need to be certain of exactly what my gender identity is, if I want to have any hormones or surgery, and if i am by any means prepared to be brave enough to be subjected to the bigots and haters.

Most of what I have rambled on about on this blog is rendered very much pointless by the fact that no one will ever think i am the man that I know I am in my head and my heart if I don’t just pluck up the courage to say it. My only hesitation is that I don’t want to think so optimistically about it like I have everything else in my life that has gone horribly wrong. I don’t want to try to improve my body, to in turn improve my state of mind and sense of self, only to realise that I have horrifically mutilated myself instead. At the moment I can convince myself that I am in a happy medium, and I keep telling myself that things will get better and get easier; get better when I get older, but I am getting older and I will always be in this permanent state of male puberty. I have stopped fighting it, and I now embrace it, but deep down I know that I want to push it forward and gain the courage to, well, grow up.

I just need to make sure that this is something that I want. I don’t want to give myself the excuse that I am staying like this because it is easier for me to find someone to be with and function in society, because that simply isn’t the case. If I am with someone in the stat that my body is in now then I feel more alone than if i was single, and existing like this is by no means living. That being said, there is no going back on altering things. I don’t want to wake up one day and look down at myself with scars and unwelcome hip bones, only to discover that i have always been happy with my body, it was just everyone else that had a problem with it in the first place. I can’t realise that I have changed myself, and it was only again to please others because I was being seen as female to men. What if I go through with surgery, and they still do? That is inevitable, and I shouldn’t let it bother me at all, but in all honesty it does. It takes a lot to offend me, and i cant help that this is my one of very few weaknesses. I just can’t go through with things either, to hate my body, my choices, and still feel awkward and alone, with no one to blame for that but myself.

Hovis

There is a saying that lesbians are only lesbians because they are too ugly to get a man. the state of my body is just the collateral damage from my pursuit of happiness. Fast food, energy drinks, cropped hair, men's clothes, alcohol and cigarettes are all the reasons that I am still breathing today. People tell me that I'v ruined myself and exclaim ‘what have you don’t to yourself?’ or ‘what happened to you?’ well life happened to me, life ‘ruined’ me, as they so eloquently out it, and no thanks to them, this is how I have dealt with it. But while being called ugly is deeply offensive I have to admit that this is somewhat applicable to me, but then I'm not really a stereotypical lesbian, or a lesbian at all really.


My masculine traits had always been something that I tried to hide and they were what I thought I had been told by countless doctors were ‘problems’. I felt ugly because they outweighed my feminine features, but by embracing my male side, and what I have come to consider my ‘true’ self, I realised that they are actually positive things. I know that I am just trying to console myself. A friend once pointed out that my nickname ‘Hovis’ was not very accurate as I am not exactly the best of both, more like the worst of both. The cruel reality is that I will always be an ugly, barren woman or a man without a dick depending on what way you look at it or how I am presenting. 

Still, this is my body and my world, and what I try to tell myself every day is that as a man, I have large feet and large hands, a strong jawline, broad shoulders and I am tall. All other factors aside, these are normally enviable traits, and in the gay community a good femme will appreciate that I can make a handsome butch. As a girl I'm not all too unattractive though. Naked, my figure is not overly masculine provided I don’t ever lose too much weight from my hips. And I am good with my makeup when I am in the mood. I have nice eyes that appear green on occasion. When I lives abroad, a teacher in Spain once pointed that out that my eyes change color. I like that. 

I also like to think that I have the power of the first humans who were both genders that even Zeus feared. I tell myself that I have the potential to posses the serenity of ying and yang. I think its all that I can do to make myself feel cute. Anything to make my own little category of person hood that little bit more special and less of a potentially life shortening medical condition. I would much rather be considered a special little snowflake than a medical anomaly, infertile woman or neutered man. Besides, doesn't ‘two spirit’ sounds much better than circus freak?

Chauvinistic

I'm a chauvinistic feminist, another oxymoron, I know, but it is true, and sometimes I worry that I re-enforce the binary myself. I try to act masculine sometimes to live up to a role and fit in with the guys sometimes, and I do the same with women. I get ignored when I'm looking feminine and so everything I say tends to be blazed by men that would otherwise talk to me like a friend. 

To my horror, I was chatting to a girl online and she said ‘you know that I'm not really girly right?’ and later discovered, only after she cut her hair short, that she was somewhat genderfluid. I'm not sure to what extent, but I saw that some of her posts talked about gender anarchy on facebook. Anyway, I had done to someone what I hate people doing to me; I had assumed her gender, and therefore her gender role and preferences.

I hated myself, and what society had instilled into me, just how I hated the way that society had taught me to gossip and work racist or homophobic slang into my language when words hurt more than most physical pains i was so sorry for doing that to her and sorry to myself for what I had became. I was so obsessed with being read as male at one point I forgot what it was to be myself and that there is no shame in being a woman either. While I think that I should be super militant queer and think, ‘If girls don’t want to be my friend because I look like a man then they aren’t true friends’, I should also think ‘If guys don’t want to be my friend because I look like a girl then they aren’t true friends’ too.

I realised I had been changing myself to fit in, but on another end of the scale, which is just as bad as being in the closet. Then I realised I needed not to hide my leg hair or painted toenails when I'm at the beach with a group of like minded, friendly individuals, because if I am to identify as gender-less, then I should judge others accordingly until proven otherwise. 

Gemini

I didn't believe in the zodiac, just as I don't fully believe in any one thing, particularly any form of religions and other ethereal musings, as interesting as i do find them to study. Once I did start investigating Gemini though, and that's when I discovered that I share the same zodiac sign with Johnny Depp, so that can't be too bad. 

What Gemini dictates about your character was all incredibly close to home though. It states that I am emotional, but that I cover it with humor. Very true. And  that I am easily bored so I dabble in lots of things, and I am constantly sociable with a wide circle of friends because I can see things from other people's points of view. Scarily true also. Plus I mimic people's accents that I'm with without realising it. 

According to Gemini, I am a cynic also, but then it would say that...haha. I do tell myself that these are all probably just widely cast nets of 'traits' that as a Gemini I will try to see in my personality. But then I have brown eyes that tint green sometimes too. And pale skin. And my strife's are always emotional rather than physical and I am a book worm but no one seems to notice it. How did they guess all of that? The twins are typically shown male and female.  This gives me the hope in that there is some kind of ethereal, magical, spiritual purpose to the universe, and maybe i am not a mistake of nature but that i fit in somewhere out there, even if it is in another life on a different ethereal plain. were trans* individuals not worshiped as shamans in lots of ancient cultures? Are gods and angels not still depicted as inter-sex in some societies?  It reminds me to always keep my mind wide open, which I always tend to try and do. 

The Art of Conversation

It has come to my attention that I need to be less controversial and aggressive in conversation with new people. I forget myself with sensitive individuals and that my sense of humour is incredibly dark and dry. Unless people know me well they fail to understand that I have a soft side, and this leads to typically white middle class girls and baby-loving women to clash with me; or perhaps I naturally clash with them because they embody everything I hate about society and maybe even deep down everything that I am jealous of.

I wish I was straight; straight looking, straight acting, straightforward. Life would be simpler if I had been born into a family which kept me rich, innocent and carefree, and my only goal was to marry and reproduce. The grass is always greener on the other side though, and the entire social construct of what I just said seems cripplingly dull and controlling. Still, I need to stop offending people, as even though it is a good device to push people away, people that I know I would not want to be friends with, one of these days it will make me lose the few nearest and dearest that I have, simply because I cannot control my tongue. Deep down though, I think it has more to do with the fact that I cannot distinguish when to trust and when I can let myself be happy and safe with someone else’s company. It all bores down to me being afraid of being close, only to find myself being called a freak by them after coming out. And that is no fault of my own. 

Asexual

It is in my blood and in my nature to see men as my brothers and women as ‘something else’, something that I am far from being, something that I don’t understand, and that's what makes them so fascinating. That's why men aren’t all that interesting to me sexually; I see too much of myself in their personality and their habits. That being said, I don’t really find anyone all that attractive. Sometimes I feel somewhat asexual. I don’t really see many people in the street or in the media that I find fanciable. I also find myself struggling to differentiate between people that I fancy and people I want to be or just be very good friends with. On occasion its both, but of course I would never let them know that. 

I can only imagine that your girlfriend telling you she actually identifies more with men is very hard to stomach. That is why I am incredibly closed when in a relationship, and I have yet to come out to a partner about my gender identity issues. I also feel as though the person who loves less in a relationship has all of the power. Its a defense mechanism, and I have a habit of finishing with people, be them friends or more, either before they discover my gender and finish with me, or before I start to care deeply for them myself.

Jealousy

When I hear people say ‘I hate myself’ or ‘I wished I look different’ you'll find me in the corner, silently fuming, and that's another reason why I hate people. People don’t appreciate what they've got till its gone. Like how I wished I was the weight I was back when I thought I was fat. Or like you're gender. I've learned that the hard way, and all I can do is pray to a god that I don’t believe in that my voice wont drop too low, my hairline wont recede any more and my beard wont continue to creep over my lip and cheeks. But its not even my wish though. I like those things about myself usually. I would simply find it more difficult to ‘pass’ as female the more male I become, and I would like the option to remain female, because in order for me to maintain any sort of physical relationship with straight identifying men or gay identifying women, I have to be a woman still.

I still want to see myself as all woman sometimes too. I think whats most unnerving about it all is the feeling of detachment, and the feeling of waking up as something that you don’t recognize and aren’t used to. Imagine, if you can, having the voice in your head speak much more higher and less monotonous. Its extremely unnerving and surreal, and I don’t think I will ever get used to the uncertainty of it all. I am someone who, by nature, very much likes having structure and certainty, but on the most fundamental level of my own body, I don’t even know whats going to happen. Doctors don’t know, and I live my life by not knowing anyone at all like me.

I don’t see anyone in the street or in the media like me, and nobody can even begin to predict what I'm going to look like in the future. Its the blind leading the blind in this, and the days in which I feel sick with myself only occur when the most unpredictable things happen. Such as when I've being called ‘it’, or when i don’t expect to menstruate and do, or if I discover more hair in places where there shouldn’t be or on my pillow. It reminds me that I'm different and it scares me a lot, it shakes me up and it makes me doubt myself. I begin to question why I am this way and why people wont understand or accept me as what I am. 

What people don’t seem to fathom is that I cannot control or choose these things, all I can do is make the most of them, embrace them, go with what I've been given and try to feel comfortable in my own skin. It throws people off when I say I'm proud of myself. I enjoy that, its like I'm claiming back myself, its like I get to fuck with society,instead of it always fucking with me. I tell my doctors my beard doesn’t bother me and they are stunned to say the least. I inform people that being called male is more of a complement than an insult, and yes my doctor martens do go with this dress and my full face of makeup fits perfectly well with my stubble rash so no i don’t want surgery: I just want to be myself. 

Physical

I used to wish that my body was completely consistent with one form, but then again, my body is pretty consistent with my mind right now. I am the sort of person who tries to see the silver lining in situations, and from speaking with the transgender community, I have come to appreciate and accept myself a lot more. What i mean to say is, a lot of people would kill to have a body like mine. I feel like I have gender qualities and traits in my person hood that are matched well with body. The whole essence of who i am is to be both, and this is what many people strive to be.

“I want to show the maleness of my breasts and the femaleness of my muscles.”

 -Genderfork.com.

 This is very accurate. There are no set boundaries, only binaries. Some individuals aim to purposely inject hormones into themselves in order to become as androgynous as I appear, and others are left with a body like mine after changing their mind on medical intervention or as a result of their current transition from male to female/female to male. I am naturally like this, and I suppose I need to take as much comfort as I can that I am in some senses cis-gendered because my body matches my mind.

I can only assume that some transgender people are often lead to believe that, because their sex can be so different to their gender, that they have something mentally wrong with them. I, on the other hand, am able to say that I have a medical condition, and I don’t have to convince any doctors to give me the hormones that I need to feel comfortable in my own skin. If I look at things that way, then its possible, with a little stretch of the imagination, that I am actually cis-gendered. I love the idea of this.

This makes me feel a lot better, and to know that some people envy me for this means that I will try my hardest to remember to be grateful each day, for their sakes, because I can only assume that being transgender is a lot more difficult than the things which I face in my own situation. I am also very thankful for not having had genital surgery as a child, or ever having ambiguous genitalia to begin with, or at-least to the point where I cannot have penetrative sex/ appear too much out of the range of a normal female. These things in themselves are a godsend, and I would like to take a moment right now to show my appreciation to the powers above for allowing me this physically adaptive and emotional comfort of being me. 

Being Vocal

My resolve was thoroughly tested yesterday. As if doing a presentation wasn’t stressful enough. I must say I found myself considerably more mature and confident in the situation that a few years ago would’ve made blush crimson red. Still, they say that those who blush quickly make good lovers. I am going to wishfully think that this is a good thing, but what I have to remember is that I have improved dramatically socially speaking, as well as in terms of my own well being and sense of self. 


We were recorded play-acting our selling skills at college, and it went fine, seamlessly in fact, until I realised we had to grade each other by playing the recordings back over and over. I felt somewhat sick and somewhat scared throughout, under arms breaking out into a cold sweat and my breathing growing labored, either because consciously doing so was taking my mind off of it all, or I was stopping myself from having a panic attack.

I simply hated, hated my voice. I mean, “you sound just like your boyfriend” has even been thrown around a lot in the past. I am sure many transmen would kill for my monotonous droney voice, and surely I should be proud of it, but for one reason or another it makes me ill, my hairs stand on end and i have to lick my teeth because the way I sound cuts through me like a dentist's drill. I thought I was never one to be too dysphoric in the scheme of things, as I know that many suffer with dysphoria and their bodies much worse than I do, and I cannot even pinpoint what exactly it is that do hate about it, but it chills me to the bone. I think it has a lot to do with the unnerving fact that the voice in my head; you know, that inner monlogue? It sounds entirely different to the voice on the outside. Every time I open my mouth it is like a stranger is in the room and it is the most grueling, grating and truly twisted thing in my world. Every time I get a cold I fear that it is breaking deeper, and in the mornings my throat and vocal cords feel thicker so I practice pitch heightening exercises before leaving the house and always check for an adams apple. 

It kills me when people mock it in jest, which many do frequently because I have a tendency to point out the differences in my body as an ice-breaking joke before others do, but if there is ever a joke to be made, then the way in which I sound should not be the punch line because my god it cuts me deep and makes me feel woozy.

Anyway, it made me truly sick to hear it played back to me. My stomach muscles clenched to stop me falling off the world, and at that point I wished I would do just that if it got me out of there sooner. The urge to run was overwhelming, and as soon as the bell went I was out like a bolt, yet acting perfectly un-phased as I always do. I deserve an Oscar for my ability to hide my pain, which thinking about it is both good and bad considering I hated drama because of how I sound of all things, and I hear that only the depressed bottle up their feelings.

Sexualised

Privileged people don’t have to worry about things that others have to take into consideration. A lot of my guy friends look at me questioningly/expectantly for me to join their social group and have a chat. Call me lazy, shy, faithless or all of the above, the fact of the matter is that I don’t want to be subjected to so much ridicule in such a short space of time. 

Being stared at by strangers is fine; they are strangers, but I would rather not sit awkwardly next to my friend while his friends try to come to a conclusion about my gender. They don’t seem to notice the fact that most groups of men will either treat me as some sort of odd lesbian mascot, completely ignore anything that I have to say or try to chat me up. This makes for a very awkward series of social interactions, and I don’t care to deal with them at all. it makes me feel emasculated against my friend too. 

I cant help but compare myself to a lot of guy friends to try and figure out more about myself. I spoke my mind once, saying, "I seem to be more masculine than most men" which was met with , "and what your point?", which made me realise that first of all, i need to watch what I say more. secondly, nobody else really seems to care about gender anywhere near as much as I do some days and thirdly but most importantly other makes masculinity should not be compared to or validate and invalidate my identity. 

But what they always fail to notice is the odd, foul little niggling comments that do still have the ability to ruin my day. A good of example of this is when I was with my friend from college. We walk to Sainsbury's quiet a lot during the week to get lunch. We happened to end up with someone else in our entourage. He said that the new guy was a dickhead, I agreed, but before I could expand as to why he said it was because he was bragging about how much money had. Its like, no, that's not why hes a dickhead. Hes a dickhead because when I said I got lucky at a club he said ‘you should have invited a guy back with you and had a threesome, that's hot’. No. No, that's not at all hot, because I'm not by any stretch of the imagination a porn star and if any other guy said he had got lucky he would’ve said well done mate and left it at that or asked for details. Awkward. 

We are 'human'

The whole ‘I am human’ thing pisses me off, because we are all different, and we have all spent hours and years of our lives finding our label to best explain to people our strife and pain and what makes us happy and comfortable, which is at he end of the day different for everyone. To be labelled as girl or a boy and to identify that way tells people that you like certain things and certain social interactions, and it allows us all to be civilized to each other, sensitive to each others preferences and wants, just as the identity of trans, gay, lesbian, pans and all other identities; they all means something, imply something,and to ignore that core part of someone is a bit of an insult in my opinion. 

I mean, if i say that I am gay and people to continue asking me why I don’t have a boyfriend yet, i would consider that person to be misinformed, then rude, then ultimately a bit dim. We are all human at the end of the day, but the recurring theme of annoyance that I have to deal with is when people say something along the lines of,

 "I believe that our sexuality sits on a spectrum and that gays and straights are just trying to label themselves because we are all somehow bisexual to varying degrees as humans"

That shit makes my blood boil. Then things get awkward, particularly when its the straight identifying white girl whose saying this, as they have all of the natural privileges to say such things. it is always the privilege who try to speak for the downtrodden and the few. They have never had dyke shouted at them in the street or spent late nights trolling the internet for gay to straight conversion sights crying. they have never looked down at themselves and felt so uncomfortable in themselves and so unlovable they have nearly taken a knife to their genitals, only to be told that they are all just trying to 'label themselves' to stand out because we are all the same. We are by no means all the same, and labels are core to your identity. They are the difference between having kinship and community with strangers wearing rainbow bracelets to feeling utterly and ashamedly alone. 

To be told that I am just trying to be different, and that we are all the same is a myth in itself, because we aren’t at all the same. As people, we all have different likes, dislikes, identities, personalities, bodies, and to say that we are all the same wipes away all of the anguish and struggle t hat I have been through to find myself and claim my label as my own. Gay people are not naturally 'proud'. we get that way through blood sweat and tears, that's it why there isn't a straight pride. because pride is the opposite of ashamed, and that is what most people in the community have felt about themselves, whole heartedly and fatally at times. We wear our LGBT label as a badge of honor, like a medal won in the war of society vs us, our own problems and our own identity. 

So no, we aren’t all the same and we aren’t all bisexual or open to different ‘gender roles’ or like to secretly cross dress because it is socially acceptable for women to wear jeans now or whatever it is you think some of us ‘get off on’...we are all different, as well as human. But more importantly, however different we all are, we should all be equal. 

Confidence

As a woman, you are told and you believe a few fundamental things. Long hair is staple, and tight fitting clothes are normal. Once doing the opposite, I discovered an entirely new world. The way in which people spoke to me altered entirely, some of these changes I liked and some of them I didn’t. I couldn’t hide behind my hair anymore or the feigned stupidity of womanhood. That is to say, I couldn’t be the dependent and weaker vessel. I couldn’t be quiet in the corner, I couldn’t twiddle my hair or laugh at everything someone said, I couldn’t bat my eyelids to get a free drink and when walking along in the street no one moved to let me pass and no one would offer to hold my bag or open doors. I had to rely entirely on myself and my strength and my mind. I felt incredibly vulnerable and naked, although that might have just been the breeze against my freshly shaven head. Either way, I felt an elated sense of self reliance, and as scary as that was I got used to it very quickly; I had to, because there was no one looking out for me. Not that there ever has been.

It made me realise, though, that I would rather be single and butch than single and femme, because as an effeminate person you need to rely on someone, and when you're single and femme there's no one to come and save you. You start to feel weak and helpless, but then you wonder why no one wants to be there for you. You doubt yourself, change yourself, and find yourself with a man that can be there for you, accept he isn’t there for you, hes there for this fake personality you've created to get him to date you. What hes dating is actually nothing like you at all. At-least, this has been my experience. And in my experience, paired with my natural tendency to like doing things myself and not relying on others, is one of the reasons why being butch/dom/top/masculine is something that I feel much more comfortable and natural in sync with above all other things that I have tried to make myself be in the past. 

Self Love

I heard a joke the other day that if you're inter-sex you can just fuck yourself silly. Well instead of being offended, I got thinking, and I came to the conclusion that i want to date myself. I am the only one that knows everything about myself, all of my wants, all of my needs, we have so much in common: we would never argue. There would never be unfair opinions or judgments made about myself. I wouldn’t have to break it to myself that I have an un-gendered personality and body to match. I could take myself out for dinner and a movie, i would order my favorite and watch the latest flick that i wanted. I could take myself clubbing and to restaurants and dress up nicely for myself and hold my bag and open doors for myself and give myself total control of the remote and my favorite side of the bed. 

I would never have to compromise. I  would share all of the same interests, and i would never have to disappoint myself or get anything wrong. I wouldn’t have to start the relationship out with any hidden qualities or untrue pretenses. I would love myself for all of my faults and see clearly all of my virtues. I would consider myself both strong and pretty and i would let myself know daily. 

So today my dear readers, i'm going to ask myself out, and i'm not just a little nervous about it, but then i'm gonna take myself out for a nice romantic stroll on the beach followed by a movie night with all of my favorite films, run myself a luxurious bath, paint my toenails for myself and eat all the best junk. One day i'll treat myself on a shopping spree when I've saved enough money up, and then I'll plan a great surprise for myself for valentines day and I'll tell myself how strong I've been over the years and how lucky i am to have myself. Then I'll muse about how funny it is that I can appreciate all of my own talents and that I can love all of my own little habits and quirks. 

Problem is, I am scared that I'll cheat on myself, or that I wont be able to bring myself to have sex with myself because my body is so different to the soul that's inside. Or worse still I will get somewhat far into the relationship and panic, breaking up with myself because I am not used to being honest and happy with myself. Either all of that, or I'll just ask myself out and turn myself down right then and there. I'm too scared of committing to myself. Maybe I am just better off single...

Infamous

If you would've told me 10 years ago that I would be depressed I wouldn't believe you, but if you'd told me 3 years ago that it would get better I wouldn't have believed you either. For better or for worse, the future is unknown. Speaking of unknown, I want my grave to read "unknown" because nobody really knows anything about me, even my gender: the most fundamental thing that most people don't even think to question, nobody really knows what mine is. The voice and the thoughts in my head are so different to the voice and what I say on the outside. that is unnerving in itself, but what is worse is the fact that nobody knows anything about me, so to be labelled as "unknown" is a fitting description of my body, my legacy and my soul. 

You think I'm a slut? A dyke? Hopelessly sarcastic, blunt, and rude? Well I learned from the best, and at least I'm being thought of. I have always been, for better or for worse, a famous, fabulous fucking whore and whoever says that's not a good thing to be needs to remember that I will be remembered and they sure as hell wont. Granted, I will most likely be remembered for being a freak or joining the circus. I mean, my body already belongs to science, so i'm not too sure why my wishes to be stuffed and put into the Ripley's Believe it or not Museum are met with disapproving head shakes and hidden smirks. 

You see, my sense of humor consists of seething tuts about my gender, but gender is one of the last taboos, and if I am to be a born spokesperson for it then i'm about to give it my all. After all, if there is a God, then maybe this is what I was born for, and if the God is Shiva, then I may very well consider myself closer to them or a ‘fallen’ angel. I mean, I was probably kicked out of heaven like Loki. He was another who could alternate genders, and they didn't put that in the Marvel film. I guess my point is that, if you forget all of the odd ramblings and intimate details of a sexual nature, then being remembered for all that I have written relating to gender will probably not be the worst thing in the world. if I have touched but one person who has been as confused, lost and alone as i have then that is a legacy worth sharing and speaking about, so whoever is reading this can by all means attend my funeral, because I can guarentee that the 'closest' of friends and family will not be there. 

Human Nature

Human nature is nature, and nature is cruel, so maybe that's why humans are so cruel. The men peacock to procreate because the women go for the strongest mate to protect them through pregnancy. Men push out the runt of the litter and women try to make themselves seem more appealing through  slut shaming.  

Perhaps then I don't understand this cruelty of humans, because I don't wish to seem more desirable or more dominant. I am not a part of this unspoken battle. I hardly want to mate for recreational purposes, and I do not want a child. There is a theory that symmetry Is what creates the "illusion" of beauty, which is maybe why the gay community sports one earring and other one sided details. 'shoulder bags' and all that jazz. 

We don't want to be genetically perfect like that, because we aren't a part of this survival of the fittest. We cannot and will not search for the best mate for the next generation, all we want is an ideal partner for ourselves, and while society may see this as selfish, and slander us as ugly, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. One day, someone will love me for exactly who I am, and I will love them back, and it will have nothing to do with anyone else's opinions and expectations. if society deems that ugly, unproductive, and a sin then by all means sign me up to hell.

Hedonism

Maybe I don’t want to leave the closet? Maybe I just got it the way that i like it? Scented candles, throw pillows, vibrators and nude calenders, you know, the works? All of the things that reflect my personality? Teddy bears and combat boots. Fuck the cis-tem. I wanna be gay for Satan. My queer confession? I want to grow my beard, and have done, accept I couldn’t handle the stares, no, it was not for the stares, but for the lack of social interaction it left me with and the fear of being beaten. All the same, to this day, if i'm feeling a little emasculated I will grow my body hair out to the point where my body looks thoroughly ambiguous and I find the way my painted fingernails embed themselves in the fuzz of my stomach very sexual and liberating.

 And yet I cannot help but feel like I'm a bad queer for not coming out. For not endlessly explaining exactly what I am on the outside and in my head? The proof that I am still human is the fact that it is human nature to survive, and my priority at times is survival, so I put the political statements aside, because while my body is not a side show it is also not an example for others like me: I am myself, not entirely a revolutionist. I am still just a shy girl and a lonely boy. 

I am also greedy. I like food, I like money, I like fucking and being fucked, i like being one of the guys and one of the girls, and most importantly I crave social interaction from males as well as females. I liked traits in both genders and all people. I liked the banter of men but the softness of women. I like small chests but female genitals. I like being the big spoon but also being dominated in the bedroom at times.I enjoy using strap-ons though, and going shoe shopping. I like rock music and pop. I like having old friends and travelling to entirely new places.

I am odd. I make no sense. But i like it, and i don’t feel the need to explain any of this stuff about myself to other people. My business is my business, but words can often speak louder than actions contrary to popular belief, and I am always faced with the dilemma of coming out as a lesbian and making guy friends, or wearing a dress and making girl friends. It does seem though, that feeling comfortable in my own clothes results in me making none. Polo shirts intimidate people for some reason, and when im wearing them i look far too friendly towards girls and far to aggressive towards men. But I have a tendency to act like I dont care what people think. To be fair, i don’t care what people think usually, but on a deeper level, on a personal level, I crave acceptance and empathy. I find that not many people are very empathetic with me at all, and this saddens me a lot. I want people to care about me, don’t we all want to be known and understood? In that sense, aren’t i just perfectly normal? 

Identities

With a few cups of coffee and the odd shaky breath, i found a lot of passages from Max Becks journal that really spoke to me. “How could I be a butch if I was "really" a man? How could I call myself "lesbian" when I wasn't even a woman?... Does the Y chromosome in (only) some of my cells and the facial hair I'm growing make me any less a girl, a tomboy, a lesbian, a butch, a woman? I have worn all of these identities, so surely they are mine, even if they no longer fit, even if they were never my birthright, never mine to wear. I cannot undo my history, and I am sick to death of regretting it, so those hard-won honorifics will have to stand. When I look in a mirror, I see all of them.”

 these are the sorts of questions that i find myself asking myself too much. A hell of a lot infact, sometimes even daily. Its because it seems to come up into conversation a hell of a lot is all. I mean, once you are out, it becomes an often topic of conversation, and occasionally my own tag line. ‘lesbian emili’ is said a lot, and there are a lot of jokes about that at my expense, all in jest of course, but when having a gender-queastioning internal monologue it makes me wonder if i can even call myself a woman, and if so would I be a lesbian, or a gay man? Or am I all of those things as well as straight?

I am seen as straight when im with a man, or as a gay man dependoing on how butch he is, its always changing, and even if i explain it people still use the worng terms and labels and pronouns, so in the end, does it even matter? I am not really too sure what i see mkyself as. A person seems to fit, no more no less, but if i think about it sometimes i see this alien boy staring back at me, or the familiar glances of a girl, accept i do feel incredibly distant from her image. I catch the sight of it sometimes; the girl I used to be, before I began to truly question my sexuality and gender. Shes not me though, certainly not anymore, and I cannot erase my ‘history’ as max put, but I wouldn’t either, as its what makes me incredibly me, and I enjoy that; I am very much rooted in me. Still, when i look in the mirror, I very rarely think ‘what have i don’t to myself’, because that is the voices of the British public, and not my view at all. In all honesty, when I look in the mirror, I am most likely to think that I look handsome rather than beautiful, and I often wonder ‘will pass as the guy that i am today instead of ‘do I look girly enough for everyone else's satisfaction’. 

Attraction

Maybe all girls like bad boys..in which case, it doesn’t explain why I like them anyway. I can only assume that I like the wrong guys for different reasons from the average girl. Firstly, a part of me wants to be them. they are the epiphany of manliness and when i'm sitting close legged in a tight fitting dress they are the closest that i can get to that masculine energy

Another reason is that they are honest. I would rather a guy told me he wanted to fuck me instead of inviting me over to watch a film and then trying to get his leg over, as if i'm not going to notice. There is a level of deception there, and not only does it show that they don’t know me at all and the way in which I think feel and am, it also implies that I am too stupid to realise that all they want is a sex. It also implies that I am some sort of object to be conquered, as if I don't want sex either, when the reality is that I will probably always have the libido of a teenage boy and i am probably more sordid than him. 

 I seem to have the outlook of life that if all you want is sex, and it is my sex that you want, then 'awww shucks', i'm a lot more flattered and content with the fact that you are being honest with me. It means that you think that I am manly enough and mature enough not to be offended, and the forward-ness and directness is a turn on. I like sordid sex with men, and if i'm being dominated then they have to be more dominant than me; this is a hard task for a lot of men, and I wish them luck with the task so they had better hope that they are up to the job. So, telling me 'lets have a catch up’ is just not gonna cut it. 'Fancy a fuck' on the other hand tells me weather or not I should be bothered to get out of my pyjamas that day and meet you for just that, with no pretense of invented affections. There's no disappointment on either end that way. This is why I wish I was man enough to use grindr... 

Phase

Just when I thought I was causing my own problems and inventing an identity and dreaming, head in the clouds, of some odd gender identity and assumed lack of compatibility with any partner. But I had a nap, and when I woke up my first thought was why am I in a dress, where's my jeans, Tee and blazer? Cos its nice to look nice ah? And if i'd seen a guy friend at that moment I would've felt very ashamed, accept, this wasn't about anyone else. 

I laquor my nails in front of them when I want to because although I talk about feeling and acting male or female, its all just stereotypical, because deep down I encourage tranarchy and I want to fuck the gender binary from behind and I always do, I often do, but  I occasionally want to go under the radar. I want to fit in, or I naturally tend to sometimes, heels and all. Either way I realised that l am never gonna escape all of this and none of this is ever going to get any less complicated or easier.

It is not a phase, worryingly so, and I haven't bought it upon myself because I am used to standing out too much,but I wish It was just a phase, and that I would be normal, but I am not, and so I embrace it. Fuck them all, fuck society, fuck everyone who won't give me the time of day because of how I dress, however...that's not real life. Humans are cruel. And I am desperate for attention and confirmation that I am a decent person. I crave human interaction. So that means hiding myself to make freinds, ridiculous I know, and counterproductive, but I need friends to function, even if I must be in the closet, in all of the closets possible, in order to function. It is somewhat damaging and very essential, but it has got to the point where I'v lost track of what ones I'm in and to who i'm out to.   

Im Fine...

Is it so awful that i think once this diary is finished i can die? Lateley I have been thinking that i can't tell if I'm bi or just bi polar. I mean, I like being allone but hate being lonely, and i wouldn’t change myself, but I miss the girl that used to be me. I need to stop telling people that I hate people as well, as it is not strictly true and it gives a terrible impression . I guess that sometimes I just need to put up very big, very hard walls about myself to stop anyone getting in. I don’t want anyone to see weakness. Out of all the lies ive told ‘im fine’ is my favourite, because i use it so often and I am so good at convincing people with it. Sometimes i just feel as though nobodys nice to me. It is as if I'm nice to everyone, but no ones nice to me back so i just think why bother. I expressed that opinion to one of my closest friends the toher day. “Well I'm nice to you!” was his immediate reply, and i have to admit that it gave me butterflies. It is rare, truly rare, that someone is as nice as he is to me.

I mean, I have friends, but no friends that would be accepting of my true nature. I can be having a really good time, we will all be insulting each other jovially and someone says ‘well atleast none of us here are hermaphrodites.’ It seems funny, and if they knew about me and said that then lord knows i would definitely laugh, but seeing as they are the sort of characters to never speak to me again over it, hearing things like that truly crush me. There are so many people who i think i can trust but i can never really be myself around them. my best friend, even after hinting that my friends are transgender, will say that it is sick and that there is something wrong with them, but i still love her. It is exactly like when i was in the closet over my sexuality and had homophobic friends. Its easier said than done to cut them out and say good riddance to bad rubbish, but it hurts deep, knowing you would do anything for them and if they knew that one little thing about you then your personality wouldn’t outweigh it and theyde regret even knowing you. The same is true fro any relationship, be it family, froend or lover. It just hurts so much i want to cry. The problem is though, im too manly for that, and i guess those people will never know that, or else i wouldn’t know them anymore.  That being said, gaining gay male friends makes me feel like truly belong. I think that's what I feel as though I identify with most at the moment because my current boyfriend is a feminine cis-male.

 Not everyone is awful though. I done a status saying i can do movemer and someone commented “wait what?” to which i stated “i can grow a beard haha (Y) and after baited breath i got a notification, read it and it said “i want a beard L” i assumed she thought i was joking, but i was definitely relieved. Best reaction ever! Some male friends of mine also said they wished they could. It was funny. It cheered me up. I felt more comfortable on my own facebook and to call these people my friends. Atleast i am memorable and funny.“There's definatley something about you, If it was anyone else I wouldve ditched you by now”has to be the most accurate sentiment ever uttered to me, because despite everything, the things i jokingly reveal about myself can more often then not intrigue people, making me a good stroy to tell people about. Not many can say “my friend, she has a beard...” for better or for worse i am hard to forget and as i like to say “born to be different” which my  few and far between friends retort with “youve got that right”.