Bi Bi Bi Bi

I did a thing — back in April — but it’s nonbinary people’s day today, so I’m telling you now.

What’s really funny about interrogating your own gender when your middle aged is that, for me, this is a huge epic journey, and all the young people really don’t care. It’s amazing and liberating, but also the juxtaposition is hilarious.

It’s us old people making a big deal out of things, the kids are okay. (Well, for the most part.)

I’ve struggled periodically with whether or not to transition, and this has been very quiet. Decades ago, I never reached out to trans men or the trans community in general. I’m unsure I would have even known how. I didn’t read books or even really talk to anyone else at any length. I just decided that if I wasn’t in agony, it wasn’t worth it.

I haven’t even talked about it to trans men who are close to me. In a way, it’s embarrassing. Part of me wonders if they would even believe me. It would certainly be out-of-the-blue.

Even coming to terms with my bisexuality was an intense struggle when I was younger, and I’m still not open with certain people about that. I decided, what was the point?

So, why would I be open about this?

It’s created this weird situation where it’s really easy to question myself. Everything is all so internal, rarely articulated — essentially all in my head.

But middle age does something to you, when you realize suddenly that half your life is gone — and putting things off doesn’t seem like such a good plan anymore.

When I see people who have transitioned late in life, I’m very happy for them, but I still can’t imagine that for myself.

One reason is because, much of the time, I’m comfortable inhabiting my womanhood. It’s not just an ill-fitting garment I’ve become accustomed to. It’s something I’ve learned to live with and has profoundly affected me. I don’t know how to be any other way.

And my manhood, whatever that means, I see as a casualty. However depressing that is, it’s true. I can entertain all sorts of fanciful hypotheticals all day — time travel and magic pills or whatever — but the truth is that I’ve suppressed this aspect of myself so thoroughly that he is someone I grieve.

So, I look at all these terms and labels that have become common relatively recently. Do any of them describe me? The joke is that there are thousands of genders because a group of folks once got together and produced a treasure trove of neologisms related to sexuality and gender identity. You’d think with so many choices, something would fit.

But so many of them don’t work for me at all.

I’m not a huge fan of terms that refer to masculinity or femininity, because that’s not what it’s about for me. I’m also not prepared to shed my womanhood; I’m simply not.

I seriously considered “gender fluid”. However, I know that my perceived “gender fluidity” isn’t actually changes in gender. Sometimes I’m in situations where my gender incongruence can’t easily be ignored, when I have moments of dysphoria. I could conceptualize those times as times when I have a male gender identity and think of myself as having a female gender identity when I’m comfortable, but that would be inaccurate.

I do not have a female gender orientation. This I know.

So, I thought of when I did question my bisexuality for a short time. I mean, it was pretty obvious after I hit puberty, but later on I wondered if I was mistaken because I was attracted to men differently than I was attracted to women. I thought maybe I was wrong.

Then, I realized that was sort of silly.

Likewise, my womanhood and my male gender orientation (that has yet to see the light of day) are very different — extremely different. But, they still exist and they exist simultaneously.

So yeah, I changed my bio on twitter and mastodon to read “Bitter bisexual bigender bitch” — lmao.

I wonder if anyone will notice.

The flag is cute.