well, okay.
when i first was thinking about doing this page, i wanted to make
it so you'd read
through the whole thing and not know whether a boy or a girl had written
it.
i guess i was missing the androgyny that i can't really (afford
to) pull off on the street
anymore. got bashed too many times, i think; i turned chameleon, put
on some
protective femmey coloration.
so the page was supposed to be a refuge from being read as a girl
on the street so
much, a refuge from the constant stream of maams in my life. it hasn't
really turned out
that way--i tried to keep it andro for awhile, but it meant leaving
out too much of myself.
i realize that by being open about the ways that i have lived as a
woman, as well as the
pleasure i take in flamboyance, i am destroying the refuge i used
to have, the ability to be
read as male at least (and sometimes only) online. i'm frustrated
about the people who
put me on their list of kewl grrrl sites. i know that they are in
the majority.
but really, it's a sort of interesting frustration. it's hard to
be an inbetweener. my
history says girl as much as my body does. there are boy cues, but
they are
outnumbered by girl cues. and most people don't recognize tranny cues--although
i
certainly see them everywhere.
i don't know. i wanted to have something perky and bright here,
but the stakes
are pretty high. i can sit here, at my computer, and i can type whatever
i want
and be whoever i want. but when i go outside, certain ways of moving,
certain
ways of dressing, are a hell of a lot more likely to get me beat up
(again) then
others. there is no neutral territory, here. i don't get to be switzerland.
most people look at me and see woman. maybe butch dyke, who knows.
there
was a time that wasn't so. pals from high school have told me that
they took
weeks figuring out what i was. it certainly affected the way that
i was treated.
well, i learned this shit that is supposed to be inborn. i learned
to move like a
woman, dress like a woman, sound like a woman. i learned how to send
the
signals so that people would look at me, say girl, and leave me alone.
now i regret that. i look wistfully at beautiful androgynes. i wish
i had the
strength to do it full-time.
i wish they had left me alone.