Wednesday, June 5, 2019

[Editorial note: published retroactively 2021-09-03, with some minor edits for privacy. In hindsight, I find this a fascinating look at the way my psyche was struggling to resolve some seriously complicated things. As I sit here and think about my current self-described genderflux identity, of wavering between "girl" and some kind of agender non-binary person, it's amazing to realize what has - and hasn't - stayed with me from this experience.]

This is actually overdue by just more than a week; at the time I managed to scribble some hasty notes in my phone before ultimately falling asleep, and then I subsequently failed to find the energy to actually type up the full account between then and now.

Despite having spent a lot of time in the last week trying to articulate exactly what happened, I still find it incredibly hard to capture, for some reason. So I’m going to stop procrastinating and just try and relate the events without exposition or backstory.

Monday the 27^th was Memorial Day. I didn’t work that day, obviously, and had been nervous about having the time with no plans or real structure. That weekend I spent a lot of conscious effort trying to keep myself from just disintegrating emotionally; trying to at least have a moderately decent time.

I succeeded and was feeling fairly good about life, and went to bed. As I lay there trying to fall asleep, I started thinking, as I tend to do. I can’t remember what started it or even really much of what I thought about over the next several hours; partly because, as usual, my memory is in very poor shape – but mainly because of what ended up happening near the end.

I was wrestling with the feeling that gender fluidity was periodically “taking away” parts of me. Honestly… I’d had several boy days in a row at that point, and it was hard to take. I kept thinking about Amelia. What she would do in various little daily situations. What she would say in response to something. How she would feel about an idea or an experience or a tiny vignette from the day. I missed her, badly.

More than that, I just felt like she would do such a better job of being me. She’s nicer, kinder, more… pure and incorruptible… funnier, braver, more real in some strange sense. She’s the person I want to be, and the boy-mode husk is… not. I trust her to live a good life, and it seems so brutally unfair that she can’t just drive all the time.

I have to get over my inhibitions about the next part. If I could explain it better, I would.

I was laying there, boy mode me, lamenting that I couldn’t just step aside forever and let her live instead. And unbidden, unmistakably, she simply said, “I trust you.”

The next hour or so was a fascinating exploration of my identity and how it is built out of various components, particularly gendered ones. It still drives me fucking nuts that I can’t even describe this properly. Amelia talked to me. In the background was an enby, making quiet, unobtrusive, yet profoundly impactful interjections now and then. (It took a while to learn this, and I’m still not 100% certain, but she seems to go by Sarah. Definitely the enigmatic but unarguably wise and insightful type.)

For having a week to contemplate, I still don’t think I can do any better than my original notes.

Mulling over stuff while trying to sleep. Trying to keep up the exercise of staying in a good mood (was successful).

I can engage my gendered aspects (?) somewhat at will right now. Can’t quite select a gender overall, but there is a lasting connection to me in there somehow.

Been in boy mode much of the evening. Wasn’t thrilled about it most of the time. But as I toyed with seeing me as a whole, something cool happened.

Amelia found her voice, and told boy-me that she trusts him.

Of course he thinks Amelia walks on water and can do no wrong, so he’s super encouraged by this trust and approval.

Enby-self sort of hung out but we don’t yet know their pronouns or name. They seem very content to be quiet and unobtrusive. They are officially invited to make contact if/when they feel safe and interested in doing so.

Amelia gets first dibs on the body representation, for the record. Unanimously agreed.

Boy-mode got this mess through three decades of life, and achieved considerable success in the process. He also managed to find Amelia and wages an epic battle for her rescue. We all love him and trust him even if he doubts his qualities.

The scribe dutifully notes that all parties present have digressed into an enthusiastic discussion on the many superlative merits of “boobs.”