*Edited* How would I know?

I keep thinking about my “gender” and “sexuality.” It is very…well, convoluted, for a lack of a better term.

I have really only had relationships with men although my attraction to both genders has always persisted. I’ve only been in love with one woman (and nothing came of it) and I’ve only ever had sex with one woman (nothing was going to come of it–I just needed to know if I really was into women. I was happily unsurprised that I am). Sometimes, I find a woman attractive, but I’m the same way about men. Sometimes. Most of the time, people are more or less uninteresting to me, sexually. That seems weird because I’ve been in a lot of relationships. I haven’t had to try hard at all since I’m usually chased quite a bit when I’m single.

Since I was a child, my self-image was usually more masculine. My earliest memory of that was when I was about four or five-years-old; one of my mother’s friends was reprimanding me about something and as I sat there all sulky, I had pictured myself sitting there, but not as I really appeared. I was wearing a short, t-shirt and sandals with short hair. I saw myself as a boy. I don’t usually dress feminine, but sometimes I do and I like the positive attention because I can be kind of pretty.

Most days, I’m pretty plain or frumpy–tomboyish. Not a whole lot of feminine going on and that is when I seem to feel the most comfortable. Or is it? I know the times I have dressed to intentionally look male, whether I dressed as a Sea Boat Captain from the 1700s, a Swash Buckler or, my most recently, Ozzy Osbourne. With the latest, our area’s Ozzy impersonator helped me. It was Halloween. The first time I cross-dressed was for the Music Man when I played a band boy. I pulled it off.

People who didn’t know me or hear me speak thought I really was a guy and I was stoked about that. At the same time, I don’t have anything close to a nagging feeling to be surgically altered or take hormones to become as anatomically male as possible. I kind of enjoy the flexibility of not identifying with a specific gender role.

Sometimes, I kinda like getting girly. I just don’t know why, other than the positive feedback. Maybe it really isn’t that important to know.

Before ending up with Dasc, I also went on a date with a woman. She was attractive enough in appearance, but personality-wise, she was uninteresting. She has three daughters, but only talked about them in terms of Christmas shopping and moaned about her finances. The rest of the time, it was about night-life. I do like to go out, but there are usually more interesting things, to me, to really talk about. So, there was no spark. But with Dasc, we talked History, Philosophy, Science, Gaming, Comics, Sci-Fi, Fantasy and shared sick jokes. There was a spark and more than 15 months together (five of that living together), the spark is still there. This is a record for me. Not my longest relationship, but the longest I’ve been happy in one.

From the neck up and the thighs down, I find Dasc physically attractive, but he is no exception. I’ve never been much into torsos. It’s all about the eyes, smile, the personality and sometimes the legs. I’m not repulsed by the mid-section. I’m merely indifferent.

When we first started having sex, it was very passionate and frequent. Now, it is only occasionally and kind of blah. It would help if he wasn’t so vanilla. He says he wants to try new things, but he is really only open to new positions. I wouldn’t say I am heavy into the BDSM, but I’m definitely not vanilla. That is all of the detail I care to disclose concerning this.

This is not to say I don’t love him. I do. I love him very deeply and outside of the sex, I’m incredibly happy and I’m not completely unhappy with the sex; it’s just not as stimulating to me as it once was. Of course, there could be other factors–the long depression and other physiological factors.

This time around, I wouldn’t define the depression as severe. It is closer to apathy. I don’t feel sad, but I don’t feel happy much of the time. I’m largely uninterested in terms of everything and I’ve withdrawn, socially. I’m starting to come out of it. I knew, deep down, I wasn’t unhappy. I recognized it was a sort of depression and that, logically, I had it good. I just had to will myself into doing more than I was. I needed to get off my butt and do things. I needed to go socialize again instead of rotting my brain with tv shows and video games.

The real world was just overwhelming for awhile. All of the political vitriol got to me. While I didn’t step away from social utilities completely, I distanced myself more. I was avoiding political topics and current events concerning the queer spectrum, which I happen to fall into somewhere.

I don’t think I have an identity crisis. I think I’ve just been hiding too much and allowed others to invalidate me for too long. Even some people in the gay community have invalidated me, in the past. “You just don’t know which you like yet.” Same kind of crap I hear from ignorant heterosexuals.

I was hanging out with my family the other night and we were talking about my transgender friend, Chen. I kept correcting them saying,”she,” when they said, “he.” They didn’t express being weirded out or anything. They were just talking about her and the time she was here at my graduation party. I know it was a bold move for her to come because homophobia and transphobia is more common out here in this rural town, although it’s improving. It’s mostly ignorance. Anyway, they weren’t making any judgemental statements. Just ignorant ones.

I could tell my dad was trying to be understanding about it, but I started feeling frustrated and sad over what he was saying. “They can’t help it. They have to be born that way. Who’d want to be subject to that?” That part didn’t bother me so much. What bothered me was his description of being born that way. He said there was a “short-circuit in there somewhere.” It read to me like he viewed it as a birth defect. I don’t think there is anything wrong with it. It isn’t something that went wrong or needs to be fixed, but how do I explain that to him without seeming offensive, on the defensive or abrasive? Especially since he had been drinking and it is best not to rock the boat at times like that.

I feel more masculine than feminine most of the time, but sometimes (even if it isn’t quite as awesome feeling as dressing masculine) I like to dress girly. I don’t really feel male or female though. Both are constructs. I feel female in the sense that I have female anatomy, but that is about as far as it goes. I feel like the construct I take on, for whichever day I do, more suits my mood for that day.

I don’t feel like I have an unstable self-image. I feel like I am both handsome and pretty and that I can accentuate either or at any time. I feel like I don’t want to be in a box. I’m kind of tired of it. At the same time, it’s dangerous not to be depending on where one is and whom one runs into. Still. I hate the box. I don’t want to be stuck in it anymore. It’s cramped and maybe my depression has a lot more to do with that.

My family might not ever fully understand, but I don’t need them to. They don’t treat me badly or even say anything about it.

When I talked to my mom about the woman I went on a date with and how I ended up with Dasc, she basically said, “Thank Go

d.” I asked, “Why would it be a problem?” She back tracked. She said, “I guess it wouldn’t. It would take some getting used to.” Her voice was uneven. I was skeptical about her sincerity. Maybe she is uncomfortable with it, but at least she doesn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable. Still, that kind of bugs me.

My dad says, “whatever blows your skirt up.” I kind of laugh about that. It is an allusion to Marilyn Monroe. He means, “whatever makes you happy.” I have found, despite his ignorance, which isn’t really willful (he is kind of slow to get things sometimes–I’m the same way), he is the most open and accepting and I can tell him things about myself that I can’t tell anyone else in my family. I know he won’t judge me or express any shame for it.

I have talked to Dasc, a little bit, about who I am and I’m not sure if he is bothered by it or not. If he is, I can’t really tell. He seems okay with it. He tells me I’m beautiful all of the time and masculine can be beautiful too. I adore him and I think he is beautiful and amazing. I would love to spend the rest of my life with him, I think. At least, as I know him so far and how things currently are, I’d be happy with him as my life partner.

Anyway. I’m kind of rambling.

Thanks for reading. 🙂