In Transition

I've suddenly and very unexpectedly found myself in transition.  My whole life is in flux, and I'm not entirely sure just where I am headed.  I'm leaving it up to faith, praying nightly, and I'm prepared to never give up, despite the challenges that I see burning just over the horizon, their heat already burning my skin.

After recently coming out as genderqueer, I've begun a genderqueer transition (what does that even mean?).  I've come out as genderqueer to all my closest friends, and I'm beginning to do so more publicly and openly; I've adopted the genderqueer pronouns ze/zan, and I'm starting to ask people to use them in most situations; I made myself a binder and purchased men's clothes in hopes of experimenting with a male and/or androgynous gender presentation and perhaps living part-time in a male gender role (is that even possible?).  I am very uncertain about where this transition already went, where it's now going, or how "far" it will go in the future. In fact, I am scared this whole thing will be a huge failure. However, at this time, I don't know, and I am leaving it all up to fate, ready to see where it does and doesn't go as I embark on an amazing journey.

I am transitioning spatially - ie moving.  I'm not quiet sure where or when, but I know I am ready to find a place of my own and to call it home.  Within the next year, I will pack up my life and go somewhere else.  This also means transitioning to a new level of independence, as the distance will mean that the place I call home will no longer be in the same state as the place my family currently calls home.  I am scared, but I am ready.  Much of this, too, is left up to destiny, also known as the admissions counselors at the universities to which I am applying to transfer.

I am transitioning out of two romantic relationships, one of which recently pummeled into heartbreak, and the other is disintegrating due to distance.  Both of these have been very important, and they've had a huge influence on my life.  They've also been filled with new experiences, especially sexually, that taught me a lot about myself, my identity (especially asexuality), and my relationships.  I am unsure where my love life will take me from here, if anywhere, so it's all up to chance.

I am transitioning out of a very interesting time of self-exploration, self-discovery, and coming-out to a place where I am comfortable living with a queer sexual and romantic orientation that I've come to understand really well.  Alongside my gender identity, I've realized that I reached a point where none of my future relationships will be as hetero-normative as those in the past: until recently, I identified primarily as a woman and partnered primarily (almost exclusively) with men.  I am also transitioning out of a very life-changing year that opened up my mind to many new perspectives and completely changed my view of much of the world.  I am learning how to live my life as the person I've become and the person I am becoming.  This transitioning out of a period of transition really goes to show how transition never really begins, and never ends. So, here I am, in transition.

You want something that's constant,
And I only wanted to be me.
But. Watch.
Even the stars above,
Things that seem still
Are still changing.

-- Still, Ben Folds

Multisexual Identities

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Self-Identity

One thing that I love about the queer community is the appreciation of self-identity. This extends beyond sexuality and gender identities, but into all aspects of life. I've noticed myself and others speaking about almost anything in terms of an identity: anything from social class, to political orientation, to emotional conditions, to simple descriptor words like "a flirt" or "stoner" have beecome things you do or don't identify as. However, the community is also especially accepting of the fact that not all people's identities fit a label. Identities like "queer", for example, are flexible and have no solid definition, allowing people to identify however they wish.

In discussions about different identities, I've often had people say something along the lines of "why do we need to label?" or "labels are for jars!".  I've found this to be very frustrating, mostly because it hinders discussion, but also because, in my opinion, someone's self-identity is an integral part of who a person is, and an important aspect of how we understand ourselves. Although not every person may need a label to understand who they are and not all people have a label that fits them, I don't feel that way at all. Instead, I am constantly searching for the identity that suits me the best, and this is constantly on my mind. If labels are for jars, I must be full of pickles.

In the greater context of philosophy of language and metaphysics, however, such a perspective seems to go against everything I believe it. The view that I most often subscribe to sees the world as one whole. However, when we choose to define something in this whole (usually through language), we pull it out of whole. Once we define "chair", we no longer have one, but two: "chair", and everything other than "chair".  My personal favorite philosophy, Daoism, describes this very perspective:

All in the world recognize the beautiful as beautiful.
Herein lies ugliness.
All recognize the good as good.
Herein lies evil.

Therefore
Being and non-being produce each other.
Difficulty and ease bring about each other.
Long and short delimit each other.
High and low rest on each other.
Sound and voice harmonize each other.
Front and back follow each other.

Therefore, the sage abides in the condition of wu-wei.
And carries out the wordless teaching.
Here, the myriad things are made, yet not separated.

-- Daodejing Ch 2

The Tao produces one, one produces two.
The two produce the three and the three produce all things.

-- Daodejing Ch 42

By abandoning definitions and dichotomies, you can become one with the Dao.  Thus, I think Lao Tzu would discourage us from creating and claiming labels. However, I find this somehow counter-intuitive. I would rather we have a plethora of labels to choose from and be able to create our own as we see fit than subscribe to a limiting binary. Though it would be nice to eliminate labels entirely, I don't see that happening any time soon: whenever we meet someone, they're going to want to know if we're gay or straight (well, actually whenever we meet someone, they'll assume we're straight, but if they question it, they'll want to know); I'd much rather be able to tell them I'm "queer" then identify as "neither of those" as I attempt to break down the structure of labels. Somehow, it seems that if we keep adding labels and making them acceptable, eventually, we will break down this structure, and it will be much more pleasant and effective than trying to forcefully destroy it the other way around.


Another element of self-identity that has been on my mind is the idea of "self": if we decide to do so, can we identify as whatever we wish? I've seen a few discussions recently about appropriation and misuse of identities such as queer, genderqueer, and even ally. This seems right on par with another Eastern philosophical tradition: Confucianism. Daoism, as I discussed, rejects labels and names, and it was in many ways intentionally built to contrast with Confucianism, which instead puts a very strong emphasis on names. One major element of the Confucian tradition is the rectification of names: one must act like whoever they are to actually be that person. For example, a "king" is a kind ruler who rules for his subjects. A selfish ruler who cares more about profit than rightness and humaneness is not a "king", but a "tyrant". Now, I'm not trying to say that there's a certain way someone must act to really be genderqueer, but I do think that Confucius would agree with anarchafemme on Questioning Transphobia. I think that article does a really good job with discussing the problems associated with the appropriation of any identity, and actually being something is an integral part of identifying as such.

I am frustrated.

I am frustrated because today is one of those days, in every single way.

I am frustrated with the word "bisexual". I am frustrated because I think it goes against everything our community believes in. I am not frustrated with the fact that some people are bisexual, that some people may prefer binary gender identities or gender presentations to non-binary gender identities and gender presentations, but I'm frustrated with people for whom this isn't true that use that term out of convenience without even giving it a second though.

I am frustrated with the trinary of sexualities: L G B, and I'm frustrated because I try to explain "queer", "pan", "fluid" to people around me, and in the end, many simply conclude that I'm bi, erasing my attraction to non-binary individuals, and erasing the existence of non-binary individuals.

I am frustrated with the word "biphobia" because it means practically the same thing as "monosexism", only biphobia refers to phobia of bisexuality, while monosexism refers to phobia of various non-monosexual orientations.

I am frustrated with pansexual people who say that, to them, gender "doesn't matter". That they don't see a person's gender, but just the person "inside". Because, you know what, gender does matter. And, sure, maybe you don't have a preference for a certain gender, but it's an integral part of your partners identity, so you can't just pretend it's not there, and then act like you're somehow more enlightened than others because of your supposed lack of sexuality. And I'm frustrated because this alone is making me shy away from identifying as panromantic, although I feel like it's the term that best fits me.

I am frustrated with the hostility I am facing as a gray-a sexual. I am frustrated with people insisting that this is something that I need to fix, that I haven't met the right person and need to try to, that it's not normal. I've had a healthier sex life than most of the sexual people I know. I am sick and tired of people assuming that they know me better than I know myself, and that I can't be happy without sex.

I am frustrated because my romantic orientation is apparently not as "real" as a sexual person's. Because I recently told a friend that I am, somewhat, polyamorous and curious about polyamory, and she said "well, you're also a romantic asexual", as if that makes me any less polyamorous.

I am frustrated because I do have a somewhat unusual relationship with my body, and that recently, people have been acting like there's something wrong with that. Like, a friend of mine said that I'm "ignoring my vagina", which I'm not, I know my body much, much better than the vast majority of women, and I know very well how I relate to it. My relationship with my body is very healthy, and I don't see why it has to be the same as everyone else assigned female at birth. I am me, I am not everyone else.

I am tired of the biological determinism in the gay and lesbian communities. I am frustrated with gays and lesbians expressing a disgust in "vagina" or "penis" to prove their sexuality.  I am frustrated because it puts the focus on sex, alienating queer romantic asexuals. But mostly, I am frustrated because I think that's very, very transphobic.

I am frustrated with my body. I am frustrated with the way it feels and the way I relate to it. I am annoyed because I have issues with PVI, because it's uncomfortable at best and painful at worst; and I wish I was at least ambivalent to it, and could occasionally enjoy it as I do with oral, anal, and other types of sex. I am frustrated with the fact that no one else seems to have a sex identity quiet like mine, and I honestly don't think there's even a word to describe how I feel about my physical sex.

I am exhausted from questioning. I've been questioning my sexuality since I knew it was possible for a girl to like girls. I've been questioning my gender identity since I was a child. I've been questioning my (a)sexuality since before I had sex. And I'm still questioning it all. And, you know what, "fluid" is the perfect word to describe me in all respects, but somehow, it isn't enough. As I'm experiencing an ardent phase, I'm beginning to wonder: what if I'm not asexual? As I lean towards men, I'm beginning to wonder: what if I'm straight? And I'm so. fucking. tired of it.

I am frustrated because I feel like people have been disrespecting me lately, because I think I'm being much too patient with a few friends.

I am frustrated and I feel lonely.

Last night, I had a dream that someone drugged us all, and we talked and talked about the deepest things, and then we cried. But, when we woke up, we couldn't remember any of it. We were safe: safe from the danger of intimacy, safe from others knowing who we are, safe from anyone seeing us cry. Yet we felt so much better after the drugs had worn off, so much closer, so much lighter. We talked about everything. When I woke up in the morning, I was back to this silent world.

Can we please talk?

How did I get here?

My family ridicules me for having so many queer friends. They criticize the fact that most of my friends are queer. They insist I need to branch out, that I'm limiting myself. Once, my mother even told me that the reasons so many of my friends are queer is because I struggle with making friends, and that gay people do too, so I get along with them. I told my mom she knows nothing about gay people. These things really get to me.  Often, I feel ashamed; often, I feel like this isn't good enough. I notice that my friends, even my queer friends, have straight friends, as well, and I feel awful that the vast majority of my friends are not heterosexual. To tell you the truth, the only reason I am not branching out beyond my current queer group of friends is because I don't know how: I struggle with meeting people, and I found (and am still working on finding) my place in Boulder through clubs like GSA and QI and through the people I met at those clubs.

Only I shouldn't feel ashamed. Recently, I visited an old friend at Northwestern University. She told me all about her friends, and how much fun she has. Most of her friends are band people, and she met them through the college band. And she was so happy - she went on and on about how cool they are, about their band inside jokes, about how happy she is. So I began to wonder - what's the difference between that and my friendships? Most of my friends are queer, and I met most of them through queer organizations. And I could go on and on about how awesome these people are, about our inside jokes, about how happy I am. I'm attracted to the gay community, I love the gay community, and that's why I befriended queer activists!

Often, I wonder how different my life would be if I hadn't come out last summer. Before summer, although I admitted that I had some attraction to women, I primarily identified as straight. Occasionally, I would tell people I am questioning or bi-curious, but by the end of the day, I was straight (and turned down many girls in highschool because I was straight).  To tell you the truth, until I met the right woman to pull me out of the closet, my sexuality was not a major concern in my life. Even now, I still believe I lean primarily towards men, and I even consider myself hetero-flexible at times.  Thus, if I hadn't met that woman, if I hadn't come out, I would have identified, acted, and felt straight - and I would have been fine with it.  Still, I think I would have ended up in the same place I am now. Before coming out, before seriously questioning my sexuality, I was already active in the GSA at my highschool, and I proudly wore an "I am an Ally" pin on my backpack. I had already looked up the GSA and the GLBTRC, and I was already planning to get involved in the gay community at CU. If I was straight, I would have joined the same clubs, met the same people. Even my love life would be essentially the same - except for a few casual make-outs, all my significant physical and romantic partners since starting college have been men. I probably would have still cut my hair. If I were still straight, I would look, act, and interact in much the same way as I do now.

So how did I get here? I got here because this is where my passions lie. Because this is something I believe in. I got here because I love friendly, kind people, because I love unique individuals, because I love change and activist. I got here not because of my sexuality, but because of my personality.

More dimensions, please!

We view the world as a binary.  Either you're A or not-A.  Either you're man or woman, white of a person of color, heterosexual or queer, liberal or conservative, good-looking or ugly, wrong or right.  What a stupid view of the world, a divisive, unfriendly view.  There are so many dimensions to everything.

I will use politics as my first example.  There's more to political views than being liberal or conservative.  It's a spectrum: you could me more or less liberal and conservative than others you know, you could be moderate, or just a little more liberal than conservative.  There's the first dimension, a one-dimensional spectrum that doesn't require you to be one or the other.  Yet that's not enough. On some issues, you may agree with the conservatives, while on others, you may think the liberals are right.  In politics, we are faced with social and economic issues, both of which are very different.  Thus, we have the two-dimensional view of politics, shown above right.  Yet even that's not enough.  About the same time I began exploring political views, I started playing a game called NationStates.  This game brought me an entirely new view of politics, a three dimensional perspective, shown to the left.  This view contains three spectrums: economic, political, and personal freedoms.  Even three dimensions isn't enough.  A true political spectrum would contain every issue, perhaps several possible spectrums for certain issues.  Yet three dimensions is easy for a human mind to understand, and is a great way to view politics.

How about sexuality and gender? The sexuality spectrum, I'm quiet certain, would contain a potential partner's gender, sexuality (I, for example, am very attracted to queer people of any gender), masculinity vs femininity, even a possible fourth dimension of sex.  The gender spectrum could contain gender, masculinity vs. femininity (You could be a feminine man or a masculine woman), perhaps physical sex.  What other factors would lie on these two spectrums? Where else in life do we need a multi-dimensional perspective?

Overall, I'm tired of binaries, and one-dimensional spectrums aren't enough for me, either. Let's change the world.

Pride.

It's time for me to be proud.


Time to be proud of my heritage. I was ashamed of it for most of my life, but I refuse to be ashamed anymore. I'll proudly tell others that I was born in Russia, I'll proudly speak with an accent. I'll proudly tell you what Russia was like and what it was like to live there. My heritage makes me different, it makes me special, it makes me unique. And I'm proud of it.

Time to be proud of my body. I will no longer look for faults with it, no longer complain about the little things as everyone does. I will no longer fall into the trap the media built for women, I will be proud being just the way I am.(about the image: John Lennon and Yoko Ono on the cover of their album Two Virgins. The idea was to depict natural human form.)


I will, from now on, be proud of my sexuality. I've hid it for so long, denied it for many years. I couldn't be myself when I was living with my family, when I was scared of the truth, when I refused to be proud. No more hiding. No more sleeping with men despite the fact that they never once satisfied me. From now on, I am proud to be gay.

Proud to be myself, and everything it entails. I am unique and an individual. I will stand out, I will say what I want. No longer will I remain silent because I'm scared to say something that will make me seem "weird". I am not afraid to stand out, I am not afraid to be judged by others. After all, I am only myself, and no one else is me.