A couple of things I wrote for other blogs last month:
This post is part of my participation in the 30-day genderqueer challenge, which I have modified to a weekly exercise.
Today’s prompt: What are your favorite physical features of yourself?
I like that I am tall, in an inarticulable way. I don’t know why I like it, but I do.
I have pretty great hair – it is thick and capable of taking a major beating without breaking significantly. And it feels great now that I have enough length back to properly run my fingers through it. But I also sometimes wish it was finer, that it didn’t just take over my entire head (I have a small head, and a really disproportionate amount of hair coming out of it to be honest.) Er, but yeah, let’s stick more to the positive!
I like my hands. My hands and my eyes have had poetry written about them, actually. Ten years later, that is still weird and awesome and humbling to me.
This post was easier to write in my head than it is now that I’m putting the words down in a way other people will see. I think I’m writing it as if I was like at my body from the outside, and seeing it from someone else’s perspective, but that doesn’t actually capture the things I like about my body very well. Let me try again:
I do like that I’m tall. It’s weirdly a part of my identity at this point?
I really enjoy touching my own hair. I think it feels great.
I like whole general midriff section, and I kind of always have. I have an adorable belly button.
I like my nose.
I like my tattoos. I like that they make it easier for me to see my body as my own, among other things. And I want more.
…And I think that’s about it. This has been a weirdly uncomfortable exercise :P
[In the Gender Perspectives series, I aim to highlight diverse kinds of personal narratives and reflections on gender, gender presentation, and identity, to broaden the gender conversation and boost a variety of voices. Check out the rest of the series.]
Dysphoria and body positivity | sexdrugspolitics. on the struggle to be positive about a body that is also a source of gender dysphoria:
It is a complicated balancing act within myself while trying to foster a positive attitude about my body. Dysphoria for me is a cognitive dissonance between what I see when I look in a mirror and what I know I look like inside my head, it leaves me with a feeling of duality, wanting to feel accepting of my body but also having a
niggling discomfortdebilitating schism of self when I am confronted with those parts that don’t actually look how they should in my mind.
I often wonder how much of my dysphoria is a result of the limited the representation of transgender, gender fluid and non binary people in the world. So much of non binary representation in the mass media revolves around conventionally euro-centrically beautiful, skinny, androgynous people like Ruby Rose.
Stop playing dress-up with my oppression | captainglittertoes. Frustrations with the celebration of drag and the vilification of day-by-day queer presentation:
When I get dressed, it’s not a moment to broaden my horizons.
No, when I get dressed, it’s a fucking panic attack.
My clothes are not a performance. My gender is not a farce. This isn’t a show that will be over at the end of the night.
This is me.
I am real.
Why is it that you get more support for looking like me for one night than I do in my entire lifetime?
If you really want to take up the mantle with us, try working to end our suicide or unemployment or assault rates.
Not wearing our clothes.
Kid Girl Woman Human | Letters for Leslie. From a wonderful blog of letters addressed to the late Leslie Feinberg, an exploration of the discomforts of referring to a past, pre-transition self.
I want to be able to say, “when I was a little girl.” I want to be able to say, “when I was a little girl” without people assuming that I identify as a girl now. Because I want to be able to talk about my childhood and take ownership of my childhood in the names and identities I grew up in without betraying who I am now.
An introduction of sorts | Accidentally Gay. The inaugural post by Jello, the transgender husband of the man who has been writing Accidentally Gay for two years. I was so excited to hear Jello’s voice, so I had to share!
I often refer to my version of being transgender as the quiet knowledge that I was actually a man. A soft voice that started talking to me about my masculinity when I was too young to understand why I had to use the girls bathroom instead of the boys.
…at the age of 40, I decided I should revisit the gender clusterfuck, that was my life.