Tegan and Sara

God damn. These two are sexy. And, as I discovered yesterday, they are SO much better live.

Double Standards

Yesterday I went to a sort of social gathering at the Pride Center called Genderland. It’s designed to be a place for teens that don’t fit into the gender roles created for them by society to meet each other and visit.

I guess the idea is that while you’re there, gender isn’t really of any consequence. What I felt, though, was exactly the opposite.

Bit of back story, I’m female, obviously, but gender identity has been somewhat of an issue for me. I’m most comfortable calling myself gender queer, though I’m not sure it completely fits. The thing is, I don’t look like it. My clothes are not feminine at all, but are definitely women’s clothing, and my hair is very long. This is partly because I haven’t talked to my parents about either my sexuality or my gender identity, and me suddenly wearing boys clothing or chopping off all my hair would probably freak them out a little. It’s also partly because I just like my hair.

The point being, even at this specific gathering that was supposed to disregard biological gender, I still felt the double standards based on it. Because I’m biologically female, it’s strange to others that I identify as gender queer but keep my hair long. On the other hand, if I had a penis, and identified myself the same way, long hair would be not just acceptable, but normal.

The irony of this situation is not lost on me. My gender expression does not currently match my gender identity, and I felt more judged for that fact at Genderland than I have anywhere else. What is it going to take to get past the stereotypes?

Pushed out

Coming out is a long, often difficult process, and it's just that, a process. It's not a one time thing. You might have to come out eight times, or twenty-six times, or maybe more, and there's a certain amount of terror and doubt and stomach butterflies each time, at least for me.

Being outed is different. Instead of butterflies it's like rocks in your stomach. Because not only are you now exposed, you didn't have the time to prepare yourself for the exposure that you do when you come out on your own. It's scary, and there's an element of disbelief, of denial.

I'm fairly open about myself at school, because I don't really have to worry about word traveling to my family. Or I thought I didn't. Recently I had a fling with a girl from school, and somehow it circulated to an acquaintance of mine who also happens to be an acquaintance of my cousin's. That acquaintance promptly went to inform Allie that her cousin is gay!

There are reasons as to why I don't feel ready to be open with my family. I had a good relationship with Allie before now, but now there's nothing but awkwardness between us. I hate that she has to keep this secret for me, and I know she's uncomfortable with me being gay.

So now all that I can think is Fuck, I wasn't ready for this, I'm still not ready for this, and I have no idea where to go from here. Well, I do know I'm going to go take a nice cold shower, but after that I'm not so sure.

On Rainbows

I have a rainbow tie. It's a nice tie, a silk tie. My dad has seen this tie, and he mentioned he'd like to borrow it someday. I have a rainbow hat, a rainbow bracelet with "live proud" stamped into the side, even rainbow pants.

I wonder why it has never entered my parents heads that their daughter might be gay. It's not that they're oblivious to the gay community, more like oblivious to my obvious membership. And I do mean obvious. All my friends knew at least a year before I could bring myself to tell them. By the time I was able to admit it, they had long since accepted it as fact.

Which brings me back to wondering how my parents have managed to miss all the little clues, the equality stickers, pride paraphernalia, posters of girls hung around my room, or, you know, the girlfriends.

Hmm... It's quite a puzzle.

Be kind.

Blogs are strange. It's like a diary, only instead of locking it inside a little pink box and keeping the key around your neck, you count how many people have read it, the more the better. I suppose it's the anonymity. I suppose no one really want to keep everything to themselves.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this blog, so I guess I'll have to wait and see. This'll be fun.