i am privileged. and i am queer. 

what does queer mean, to you? weird, odd, strange- to some, maybe. and maybe i am… a little of all three. i would never want to be ‘normal’ that’s for sure, average… who wants to be average? always i’ve wanted to be exceptional. an exceptional person, an exceptional writer, an exceptional friend. and i guess now my person is a little exceptional, that is, i’m the exception to a lot of the ‘rules’, the ‘norms’. transgressing gender boundaries, blurring lines, shattering our glass boxes, blowing your mind (was it good for you?)… i live a life i want to live where those norms you write into law don’t dictate my life. some would say i’m the outlier in your standard deviation. i would say, fantastic.

it’s never made sense to me to “come out”. let me right your wrongs, because that’s somehow my responsibility. just because my life may have been planned for me even before my birth doesn’t mean that i am not the one who has to live it. listen. i don’t want to be anyone’s perfect little christian girlwoman (seeking: man devoted to christ jesus (peace be with him)- must be avid church-goer, clean-shaven, tall, dark, handsome, desiring white-picket-fence, lots of children and maybe a cat and two-car garage). am i not allowed my own life, my own aspirations, my own fantasies?

i want a big gay commune. a community of queers and active straights (i use all terms loosely) who share my interests and my beliefs- a world of lovers who love and negotiate boundaries and share their lives with each other. a family fronted by a group of people, with little or no regard to who is married or exclusive or just stopping by, where everyone’s looking out for each other and themselves and this big world that needs fixing full of hearts that need mending full of lives that need direction. i want to collect hugs and kisses- from lovers, ex-lovers, my lover’s lovers…. i define family as a group of caring people. anyone watching out for me is family. i don’t want to let anyone go. i don’t think i should have to.

i’m trying to think of what to come out as, on this spectacular glorious day of revelations. because coming out isn’t really the issue; it’s what we come out as, to whom, and for what reasons. it’s about what parts of our lives we want to own and give a voice to, what assumptions we want to correct, what normative ideals we want to challenge.

i’m a gender-indifferent queer guy with a female history. a male lesbian that sleeps with all genders. a feminine man with two x chromosomes. my parents’ daughter. my partner’s boyfriend. why are we not coming out as the intricate parts of our identities? why are we trying to mainstream ourselves? are we all lesbians who sleep with women and gay men who sleep with men? and are our identities even about who we’re fucking, or is it about who we love? what happens for those of us who can separate the two? if we all have these complex identities, why are we still using two (sometimes three) labels to describe ourselves?

“i’m a straight man who fantasizes about sleeping with men.” “i’m a lesbian who once had sex with a man- and enjoyed it.” “i’m a polyamorous woman who feels pressure to only have one partner.” “i’m a straight woman who wants to have sex with another woman- but i’m afraid of the judgment i might receive.” “i’m a bisexual guy who has only had sex with men.” “i only sleep with other queer people.” “i’m a gay guy and all of a sudden find myself attracted to a woman.” “i am a heterosexual writer of gay erotica.” “i am a genderqueer lesbian attracted to masculine women.” “i’m bi-curious.” “i’m pansexual.” “i don”t give a fuck about gender.” “i just want to get laid.” “i want a long-term relationship.” “i want a big gay commune.”  “i’m not sure what i am.”

furthermore, why is it our attractions that need voicing? why is coming out about sexual orientation, sexuality, gender identity, desire? we have childhoods to own, relationships that have succeeded and failed, religious upbringings, histories of abuse, mental illnesses, hidden scars, huge successes in our careers, children we’re proud of, weights, baggage, goals, dreams, desires, obstacles we’ve overcome….

i’m a white, able-bodied, college-educated person from the middle-middle class. i grew up in a suburb of new york. i have been privileged to transgress gender boundaries in that, born the way i was born, i present masculine (though still androgynous) and have access to hormones and health care. i was born seven almost eight weeks premature and wore doll clothes for my first several months of life. growing up, i had a mom who ways always home for me when i came home from school and a dad with a high-paying job. i had books read to me and an education that was always supported. i’m an ex-christian. i was raised in fundamentalism, went to church 3x a week for four years, was in several ministries and proud of the work i was doing through age sixteen. i’m almost twentytwo. i lived my first nineteen years of life in agreement with the doctors who sexed me female at birth. i’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends and heartbreaks and fantasies of suicide and i’ve been bullied and harassed and i have scars all up and down my left bicep from all the years i thought i needed to punish myself. i’m on probation for a sex crime i feel i didn’t commit and the law says i can’t contact someone whom i still love. i have parents who don’t support who i am now but in their own way still love me, and i have professors, friends, family, families, coworkers, classmates, and partners from past and present who support me emotionally, intellectually, physically, financially….

i just can’t stop coming out.

life goals, i don’t have any traditional life goals. i want to speak and be heard. i want to keep on believing that the things i have to say are important and that i can with the help of others collectively and individually change lives. i want to write and publish and debate and expand hearts, souls, lifestyles, mindstyles, and form as many intimate relationships as time and energy will possibly allow me to. i want to do whatever i can to create space in this society for the marginalized and oppressed: women, feminine men, ethnic minorities, entire racial groups, speakers of various regional dialects, queers; anyone low-income, uneducated, illiterate, disabled, mentally handicapped, autistic, in an undesirable career, in an unhappy marriage, homosexual, transsexual, areligious, of a minority religion; people who have variant sexual practices, who have variant gender identities, who go to college at non-traditional ages, who date outside the male-taller-and-older sort of traditional pairing, who date outside their racial or ethnic group; minors, the elderly, and so on and so forth. i don’t want to catch myself up in the replication of age-old ageist, classist, racist, homophobic, heterosexist, and ethnocentric bullshit of our past.

i don’t want to come out with an identity that could oppress someone else.

but i do want to keep coming out.
i want to keep fighting.

challenge the norms. come with me.

this is a response to lorelei’s blog asking us what pros and cons to marriage are, in our eyes.

————–

Personally, I find that there are very large social “pros” to marriage, but fewer personal ones. Marriage no longer dictates anything else on the timeline of my life, such as when I would move in with a partner, start a sexual relationship, share expenses or medical information, have children, or anything of the sort. I don’t believe that my marrying a partner would change the level of commitment I feel towards that person or the intensity of my love. I do not see (legal) marriage as a sacred or special occasion and, contrarily, believe emotional marriage happens long before the words “I do” and without any regard to written documentation or witnesses.

“Married” people (people in long-term, committed relationships) live much richer, happier lives, with more stability… so long as the people involved are happy and stable. It has been said to me many times, in various contexts, that people with stable lives are less likely to commit crimes, miss work, or be depressed – and with regard to that, stability is always defined in relation to various commitments: to a partner, to schoolwork, to a job, to a field of research, etc. That being said, an emotional “marriage” between me and another person is something I could see in my future, because I do see it as necessary and beneficial. Though it is not true that all single people are plagued by loneliness and depression, as it is true that many single folks enjoy a vast array of partners or close friendships over the course of their lifetime, the security in knowing you have at least one other person to *always* go back to is comforting, and I can see many reasons for why that directly increases one’s quality of life.

But I have a lot of problems with legal/social marriage. I have problems with its patriarchal history and the ways in which women have been objectified and expected to be the subordinate of their man. I have problems with the fact that not anyone of any gender pairing can get married. I have problems with the fact that relationships between two unmarried people are deemed “less legitimate” than relationships between married people. I find it problematic that, because marriage establishes a legal kinship between a person and their spouse, the opposite is also true: without marriage, your partner is not recognized as family, and thus does not get the same rights and responsibilities as a member of your family. It is problematic that unmarried people do not have the same options available to them with regard to: property, contracts, tax credits, social security, custody, parental rights, inheritance, obtaining family insurance, making medical decisions, taking sick leave, etc.

It is infuriating to me that, even now as society is shifting and evolving, the majority of our laws operate under one main assumption: family is comprised of those blood-related to you, and that blood-related family will always act in your best interest, with your health, safety, and happiness in mind. This carries over into marital law, which essentially says, “in signing this contract you are now one family, and you can take on all the rights and responsibilities of a blood relative” – implying, again, that the individual you are entering into this contract with will act in your best interest at all times *just as a blood relative would.* …Our legal system must be completely blind to think we live in such a utopia!

In closing, I am overwhelmed by the social positives of marriage, and I would be silly to find myself in a situation where I was committed specifically (in a special way) to one person and not marry that person — because the act of not getting married would keep that person from being recognized as a part of my family. However, silly as it may be, it is against my personal convictions to enter into a contract that is not extended to all individuals of all genders; a contract which has been historically oppressive of women; and a contract that extends rights to certain people but not others. At this time, in the present state of our society, I *wish* I could promise to never marry. But I have to honestly admit that I don’t know if I will or not. Because the one person I would want to plan for me in a medical situation, or after my death, or in any tragic or life-threatening situation is my chosen family: my partner.

so, first things first, a lot has gone down over this past year, and there is very little of it i am comfortable writing about.  a relationship i was in ended exactly a year ago this month, i moved out of my parents’ house exactly a year ago this month, i have made new friends and lost others, i started dating someone new and wonderful (and we are three months strong at present), i got my associate’s degree, i’ve become well acquainted with our legal system (for reasons that i don’t feel required to disclose to random anonymous passerbys to this website; i hope you can understand), and that’s just the beginning. 

it’s summer.  i’m between semesters.  hell, i’m between entire schools.  i’m a transfer student, a bachelor’s student, a commuter. i’m also without a car. (the engine died unexpectedly about three weeks ago.)  being carless makes me feel like i am in high school all over again, having to call one of my parents to come pick me up or drop me off somewhere.  lucky for me/them, i don’t go out much.  i’ve become a homebody.  i spend most hours of most days reading, writing, making or watching youtube videos, forming new friendships (mostly online), journaling, thinking, talking with housemates or my girlfriend, cooking, cleaning, organizing, filming, playing guitar, researching, and reading some more.  i feel like i know a lot.  i feel like i know a lot about things i never would have had reason to want to know anything about.  i know good recipes.  i know a lot about the law.  i know a lot about identity formation.  i know a lot about politics.  i know a lot about… a lot.  i feel like a completely different person than who i was this time last year.

i’ve grown a lot, grown up a lot.  i do not feel that i am naive, innocent, ignorant, blind, or trusting in the way i was this time last year.  but i am still hopeful, still positive, and still committed to living in love.  i am a skeptic, but not a cynic.  i’m pragmatic and practical, logical and level-headed.  but i still have a heart that is on fire for others.  i am still an activist, and still passionate about human rights.  there is a whole bigger picture behind everything that happens to us, both in the context of our own personal, individual life and within the whole of our community, society.  i am put in ridiculously difficult positions every day, and i am–albeit through wavering bitterness–enjoying every second of it.  i am encountering in this life people i would have never encountered, and i am growing to have respect for so many people i never thought i would have respect for.  i wouldn’t trade this past year for anything. 

i am more than thankful for my life.  all of my life — not just bits and pieces of it.  this past year has opened my eyes to what is really important in life, what is secondary, and what is just downright petty.  i’ve realized that there is more to life than identity, and that we as humans need and depend on each other in more ways than i could begin to describe.  i have studied under great minds, connected with wise members of my immediate and extended families, and been blessed every single day–every day, for an entire year–by hospitality and generosity, in both small and incredibly large and life-changing ways.

the way i think is different.  the way i process things is different.  my priorities are different.  i am happy 99% of the time, even during this time where i could easily feel like everything is working against me.  there is always something to stay positive about, always something to love, always something to pour my energy into, and always something to be grateful for.  i am more of a lover, and less of a consumer.  i watch sunsets instead of films, i buy used, i rent, i recycle, i reuse, i use canvas bags, i carpool… i frequent thrift stores, garage sales, dorm clean out days, craigslist, ebay… there’s so much wasted.  material waste, wasted potential, just general wastefulness and thoughtlessness and… we have to stop being so short-term minded.  we have to stop seeking instant gratification.  we have to start following things through their natural, logical end.  we have to see the big picture.

in upcoming weeks i’m starting an exercise routine, gender therapy, [an unspecified program], a video project with my girlfriend, and am going to grow my own vegetables.  i think i’m even getting a car.  after that, i’m going to a new school.  and i plan to transform my life.  again.  in new ways.

this is my journey.

and i wouldn’t have it any other way.

(Repost; first published July 15, 2009; now appears with minor revisions.)

1. Define monogamy in your own words.
I define monogamy as a synonym to “exclusivity”.  You can be monogamous in friendship, as in best friendship; you can be monogamous in a marriage (as is the typical marriage arrangement); you can be monogamous sexually, only sleeping with one person at a time; you can be emotionally or romantically monogamous… there are many ways to be monogamous.  Many people associate monogamy with loyalty and commitment; I associate monogamy more with… jealousy and possessiveness.  I do believe that there are monogamous models which are far more loyal and committed than jealous and possessive, but I think, in general, American culture really fosters a sense of ownership in monogamous relationships, and from my observation it’s extraordinarily prevalent. 

1a. What is your general attitude toward this relationship model?
You know, I have nothing wrong with monogamy; it works for some people — it works for a lot of people (though, fewer than we’d imagine, I think).  I just don’t think it would work for me.  I don’t like exclusivity, and less do I like possessiveness or jealousy.  People aren’t property; they aren’t to be owned, bought, won or conquered.  I don’t like the expectations that seem to come along with monogamy, and I don’t like the long patriarchal history of marriage, and I don’t like the “Biblical reasons” behind monogamy, and I don’t much like any of it.  But I’m not against it for other people or anything.

1b. Can you share an experience you’ve had with this relationship type–personal or otherwise–that represents most of your attitude? Whatever comes to mind…
Well, the last time I was in a monogamous relationship was when I was seventeen and I was dating this boy, and we were very exclusive.  I remember being very jealous when he talked to girls, and very insecure, and very needy.  We talked all the time, but I wasn’t always available to him because school kept me so busy, so he sought connections elsewhere… and it always hurt me.  I wasn’t understanding of his other relationships.  This might be in part due to the ages we were at the time of our relationship, but I also think it has to do with the relationship structure itself and how I came to perceive it based on how society makes it look.  I remember feeling like jealousy was both normal and expected and if you didn’t feel jealous than you likely didn’t even really like the person you were dating… it was all very backwards and I’m sorry I lived so much of my adolescence believing that.  Jealousy is based more on fear and insecurity than anything else; I would never identify jealousy as a characteristic of love.

2. Define polyamory in your own words.
Polyamory is freedom.  Technically it’s the practice, desire or acceptance of having more than one intimate relationship at a time, with the full knowledge and consent of everyone involved.  I feel that the second half of the definition is the most important part, because it implies so much honesty and discussion of feelings and boundaries.  Polyamory is the “free love” that the 60s and 70s never got right.  It’s a philosophy, first and foremost.  To me it represents freedom, and choice, and honesty… freedom to explore, freedom to be honest about attractions to multiple people, freedom to pursue your feelings, freedom to grow in understanding of yourself and what you want…. Polyamory gives an individual the freedom to feel fluctuations in need, desire and passion and for that to be okay. I mean, for me, I believe love is everywhere, that any single person has the potential to fall in love with a million different people and compatibility is vast.  I think these are very “poly” beliefs.  I also believe that, although it’s easy to think you couldn’t love someone any more then you love a person now, there is someone out there you haven’t loved yet, and they haven’t loved you.  I also believe that there are some relationships that are meant to be only for a season, and others that are meant to endure (even, perhaps, with gaps). I define polyamory as the model that is most open to exploring these different kinds of love and love arrangements.

2a. What is your general attitude toward this relationship model?
Polyamory is wonderful.  I love everything about it.  I don’t know if I can really say any more than this because I’m really really biased.  I know it doesn’t always work for people, and it certainly has its flaws… but I really think that’s because people are flawed; failure isn’t the fault of the relationship model.  (But I guess the same could be said for monogamy, so I don’t know where I was going with that…)  I just really like it for its freedom.  It means a lot to me to be able to take love from every source offering it to me — and not because I’m greedy, but because I believe that is how life should be lived — by all of us.

2b. Can you share an experience you’ve had with this relationship type–personal or otherwise–that represents most of your attitude? Whatever comes to mind here works too.
I’ve been poly my entire life, and I know that because I’ve never had a best friend.  I wanted one, because society told me that I was supposed to have one and I was “missing out” for not having one… but that just wasn’t the way my relationships ever unfolded.  Any time I did have a “best friend” I wound up more or less resenting the person for being too… “clingy”.  Then when I got into the age where I started to have crushes on people, I always liked more than one person, and I liked them for very different reasons.  I also never really dated traditionally.  The people I’ve gotten the closest to (slept with, opened up to completely in an emotionally transparent sense, gave all my time to, etc) are people who I had no established “more than friends” connection with– no “title” if you will.  And that was okay.  Most of the time I had to “share” these people, because they were involved with someone else at the time, and it was always so okay with me, because I’d rather have the part of them they were giving me and I loved them for than not have them at all.  I was involved with a lot of people who were in relationships (with their partner’s knowledge and consent, of course), and it was so wonderful and happy.  At this point, I guess you could say I’ve been in two “primary” relationships — I was in one this time last year, and I’m entering into one now.  The one I was in last year was really wonderful — there was so much honesty and transparency and vulnerability and freedom… and almost zero jealousy (and forget possessiveness); and it didn’t end due to any failure of the relationship model.  The ability to be committed to a person, and feel those feelings of being in love, and at the same time take happiness from situations where they are experiencing happiness through someone other than you… that’s beautiful.  And I feel that I have that now, too.  I feel like the more time I spend admiring and loving and swooning over other people, the more love I have to give my partner — really, the more love I have in general — and it feels really calming.

3. Is either of the two relationship models I’ve asked you about more comfortable for you?
Haha, you’re kidding, right?  I think the answer to this question is pretty well established. 

4. If one is more prevalent in your life, could you see yourself ever pursuing the other model? If so, why?
Yes, I think I could be monogamous, but not in the traditional sense, just… in my own sense.  I guess I am kind of doing that now, with my current partner.  I am committed to her, and she to me, but I am still very much poly in philosophy.  There hasn’t been any desire to be poly in practice so far while I’ve been with her — but she knows and understands that I give and receive love as freely as I exchange oxygen and CO2.  I’m not sure I could be in a relationship where I was expected to belong only to that other person.  Lots of people have my heart — I’m willing to give it to anyone who wants it.  I’m just short on time and energy.  I’m not sure I really answered the question…. I could probably do monogamy, yes, but really it depends on how it’s defined and what the expectations are.  Fair?

5. How do you see the concept of honesty playing its role in either/both relationship models?
Oh boyyy.  Loaded question.   Honesty is vital to all relationships.  I don’t think you can have a relationship without honesty– and I mean just a close friendship, let alone a romantic relationship or two.  All people should speak truth and create trust in the minds of others (aka, be honest).  Hm.   Answering this question reminds me of these concepts I heard once, “passive honesty” and “active truthfulness”.  Passive honesty allows us to lie by omission, by glossing over the truth and withholding information from our loved ones (sometimes we don’t even know we’re doing it); active truthfulness requires courage… it’s offering truths without having to be asked, sharing freely with those who show interest.  I think that active truthfulness is vital in poly relationships and, perhaps more importantly, employed in them; I think that passive honesty occurs fairly often in monogamous pairings, and it makes me very sad.  I think that the passively honest are missing out big time.

6. If you can recall the last time you felt jealous, for ANY reason, can you describe it?
I think the last time I was jealous was when my partner last year spent three or four days in a row with the same boy and I hadn’t seen her for the majority of the week.  I wasn’t jealous of the boy; I was jealous that he had the freedom to be with her consistently that I didn’t have.  I had categorized my relationship with her as the most important of all my relationships (she was the one I wanted to give of myself the most to- my time and my soul and my energy and my body and my mind) and it just made me sad that I couldn’t see her as often as I would have liked.  I was jealous of people who had her parents’ permission to be with her.  (And considering that lack of permission/acceptance is what came between us, I’d say a part of me is still sad about this to date.)  The good thing, is knowing and recognizing that a part of me can miss her while loving others and letting love in from others.

7. Define “intimate relationship.”
An intimate relationship is a really close personal association accompanied by a sense of belonging…. it’s familiar and affectionate and there are established connections between the people involved.  Intimate relationships are wonderful.  I believe that genuine intimacy in a relationship requires open dialogue/communication, honesty, transparency, vulnerability and reciprocity and cannot be missing any of those components.  As a verb, “intimate” means “to make known” and, as an adjective, “intimate” indicates detailed knowledge of a person; so an intimate relationship denotes individuals entering deeply into relationship through knowledge and experience of the other; it is a relationship in which the participants know or trust one another very well or are confidants of one another.  To quote Wikipedia:  “Intimate relationships consist of the people that we are attracted to, whom we like and love, romantic and sexual relationships, and those who we marry and provide emotional and personal support.  Intimate relationships provide people with a social network of people that provide strong emotional attachments and fulfill our universal needs of belongingness and the need to be cared for.”

7a. Does your definition include physical intimacy?
It can.  Physical intimacy is important, and can come in many forms, from passionate love and attachment to kissing to holding hands to sexual activity.  Everyone defines physical activity differently and everyone views different types of intimacy on a sliding scale.  Holding hands can be incredibly significant to one person and meaningless to another — even sex can be viewed that way.  Physical intimacy can definitely be a component of an intimate relationship, but isn’t necessary for one.

7b. Are there any defining characteristics to an “intimate relationship?”
Yes.  Open dialogue/communication, honesty, transparency, vulnerability and reciprocity.  (In any or all forms.)

8. (As if these questions weren’t philosophical enough) Describe what “love” is for you.
You know, I think that love is only a concept and not something that can be defined.  Love is different for everyone who experiences it and in every connection established between the “lovers” (if I had to use a term).  And I think, for that reason, all people and all connections should be respected and cherished.  Because everyone only wants to be loved.  And if I really *had* to try and define love, I would point out that it is different than “liking” and that it’s more than sex and physicality and commitment.  It’s about reciprocity and authenticity.  It’s about “bonding” with someone, about establishing a connection, about feeling alive.  I know I feel the most “in love” when I share perspective with someone and when that person and myself get excited over or feel passionate about the same things, but that’s just me.  Lastly, I find that love is a verb before it’s a noun, and you’re lying if you claim to love someone you lie to, compare to others, are rude to, are jealous of, are possessive of, or hold things against.  Love is an action; it’s a commitment to put that other person (or other people) before yourself, even if it hurts. 

8a. Have you ever loved more than one person at a time, according to the definition you have provided?
Yes, I have.  I really love everyone in my life, and I know you’re asking in the “in love” sense, but I kind of mean that, too.  I respect the connections I have with nearly all my friends; I try not to keep people in my life whom it’s hard for me to respect or connect to.  And so then I find myself in love with a good handful of the people I consider my friends.  I mean, right now I’m “with” one person — with some things we’re monogamous, and she gets the majority of my time and energy — but she knows that I love other people (because of the special–and different–connections I have with them), and I love her, and we’re good.  I really can’t see myself living life any other way.

9. What comfort do you gain from sitting down and defining the nature of the relationship you have with a significant other(s)?
Wow, good question.  I gain *immense* comfort from sitting down and defining the nature of the relationship I have with someone.  I can’t express how important it is to sit down and have this discussion — even monogamous people should have these discussions.  Making sure that boundaries are respected is one of the most important things in pretty much any relationship, and it’s difficult to respect boundaries that are never talked about.  More people should discuss what they feel to be permissible in a given relationship (emotionally, spiritually, sexually) — and not just when they first enter the relationship; people should constantly be reevaluating things and communicating about their revelations or feelings.  I just think it’s very important.  You should always know where your partners(s) is (are) coming from, because it’s not fair to you or anyone else to be left guessing.  Your partner(s) should be the first to know if/when anything changes in your life, even if only in thought and not action. 

10.  How have religion/spirituality and polyamory interacted in your life, and what general thoughts on their relationship can you offer?
This question is pretty loaded.  First of all, I was raised in a fundamentalist version of Christianity and I found (heterosexual) monogamy and Christianity to be very closely related.  I was taught from a very early age that God had a very specific relationship model for relationships (the “servant-leader model” if you’re curious), and this model only made room for man, wife, and God.  Anyway, I left Christianity almost four years ago now in search of a more open, spiritual and communal lifestyle… and I’ve been identifying as polyamorous for about two of those four years…. I just think that polyamory is spiritual.  I feel strongly that we were all put on this earth to live in communion with others and give and share and reciprocate.  And I feel that polyamory is the relationship model that best recognizes this purpose, which makes the practice of polyamory something almost spiritual for me.  In being poly, I never have to deny myself a connection with someone.  I can love freely.  I can love in a way I feel I was “commanded” to love in.  (2 John 1:6.  “Love means living the way God commanded us to live. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is this: Live a life of love.”)

Another of my posts on polyamory:
A reasoned response to the monogamous

Do you still believe in God? What do you think of Christianity now? And if you don’t believe any longer, what do you believe in? What do you identify as?

i could spend a lifetime answering this set of questions.  (i think part of me already has, and the rest of me plans to.)  to answer the question of identity… i identify as nothing in particular — just a spirit on a human journey, a philosopher, a wandering soul, a truth-seeker, a part of the divine. some of my beliefs have labels. i could be said to have humanist, agnostic, and pantheistic beliefs. i could also be called a practitioner of generic religion, “post-denominational”, and moderately skeptical.  but i think what defines me the most is my identity as an ex-fundamentalist. i am also defined by the fact that i am well read in scripture, have had decent exposure to other religions (and have found truths in all of them), and am now studying philosophy.  i have a very holistic approach to almost every detail of life, religion being no different.  i believe that you cannot know your own beliefs without understanding those that you do not believe; i believe in the reconciliation of science and religion; i believe that there is a major truth that all religions are a part of.  i get upset by what i see as unnecessary division, disconnect, and brokenness. 

but the word “god” carries a lot of connotations and misconceptions, i think.  while i believe that there is a benevolent force at work in the universe, i don’t feel compelled to give it a name.  (the language paradox: you need to give something a name in order to reference it, but naming something almost automatically gives it a definition… one which no one can seem to agree on, when it comes to god.  so i opt out of the naming system, as many great believers before me have.)  i won’t go so far as to say that i don’t believe in the biblical god, but i will say that i don’t believe in the god that most christians interpret the scriptures to speak of.  there is a part of me, when i read kabbalistic literature or “revamped” christian works (like velvet elvis or the transcended christian) where i do have some faith in god (“their” god).  i do not consider myself a “believer”, nor do i consider myself any sort of christian (i don’t see christ the way most christians do), but a great deal of my beliefs have been formed through christian tradition and christian language.  i’m finally okay with that.  (i’m going to assume that you’re asking me what i think of christianity now that i no longer go to church or identify with christianity, and not what i think of what christianity has become.)

i think religion is great for those whose quality of life it directly improves, and those who can see it through a child’s eyes as this wonderful magical thing and not law and dogma. but i think that it can really hurt a great deal of people, souls, and relationships.  which brings me to perhaps the most paramount of all my beliefs:  i believe that our relationships (especially those with the people to whom we are closest) are the real opportunities we are given to emulate the tolerance, sharing, and love that are said to be the creator’s essence; that these are the qualities that our relationships can teach us and the qualities we most need to learn if we are to fulfill the true purpose of our lives.  i firmly believe there is a reason that all research points to us being social creatures and why all our thoughts revolve around our relationships, identities, conversations, and all things interpersonal.  and i think that when religion starts to get in the way of relationships–when religious belief is what leads to pain, destruction, heartache, family problems, etc–then that’s really hell.  the wages of sin is death, not eternal torment. and until someone defines death for me and can prove to me that the bible is also speaking in accordance with their definition, i will  forever and always consider loveless situations hell and the killing of a soul (however metaphorical or metaphysical) as death. 

i’d consider myself a writer except words fail me too often. language can’t keep up with the mind, the soul, the heart, culture, experience… we have words like “androgyny” to describe gender ambiguity, a word limited by its very definition, putting the androgyne in a binary, on a line, trapped in a false dichotomy. the androgyne becomes a mime, playing with the walls of the box- the box may not exist but it is very real. words. ideas. there’s this word- “like”- this one word to describe the complex affectionate feelings between friendship and love. i like you. what does that mean? what’s the soul trying to say? the body? is it different from what is leaving the mouth and reaching another’s ears? you like me? what does that mean? if i had a creative mind i would string together complex words and phrases that would jump off a page like a schoolboy going to recess. i am that eager about language. but language, you frustrate me. language, you’re so paradoxical. because without you we have nothing. you communicate our thoughts and ideas, you forge our friendships, you strengthen our relationships, you hold our entire perception of reality in your hands. communication establishes connections, and connections are what we live for. using another’s language is a primary way of conveying respect and openness. but language can be meaningless. a word on a page, a term, a definition- it tells us none of what we need to know to have respectful, meaningful discussions; the definition alone communicates nothing. i hear what you’re saying, but i cannot hear you. i don’t speak that language. gender what? i’m sorry. what? no, no that’s not my experience. no, no i’m sorry i don’t understand. of course we’re drawn to people who are like us. shared experiences. shared language. “the need for a recognizable identity, the need to belong to a group of people with a similar identity — these are driving forces in our culture” – yes, yes kate. and with this, with this is the need to find others who speak our language. speak with me, i like you. i like you because you speak with me. you speak my language. i speak and you hear me. of course we like people who make us feel good- we all need affirmation; we all need human mirrors. we like people who speak our language, and language is shaped by culture and experience and knowledge. there is so much room for misunderstanding — “well i learned to think this way, i learned this word meant that.” you have to work to communicate. when communication happens without effort, there is a loss there. colors fade, vibrancy is lost, connections are broken. you lose out, you miss out. “when something is understood, when something is fully understood — it was communicated with a deliberate effort, it was done so with care.” is there a more beautiful, wonderful gift to someone? i am working right now to get you to understand me. i am making a deliberate, concentrated effort *to you* — i am taking care and weaving my words in a more beautiful, intricate way. hello, i like you, i wove you this tapestry.

[stolen from a guy who stole it from someone else... so, no clue where it came from.]

Before you can grow up, you must fall in love three times. Once you must fall in love with your best friend, ruining your friendship forever. This will teach you who your true friends are, and the fine line between friendship and more. Once you must fall in love with someone you believe to be perfect. You will learn that no one is perfect, and that you should never be treated as any less than you deserve. And once you must fall in love with someone that is exactly like you. This will teach you about who you are, and who you want to be.

And when you’re through with all that, you learn that the people who care about you the most are the ones that hurt you, and the ones that hurt you are the ones that you needed the most.

But most of all, you learn that love is only a concept and not something that can be defined, it is different to each person that experiences it. And you will learn to respect each and every person on this earth, knowing that everyone only wants to be loved.

The truth? I’m afraid of what my body would look like post-transition. I’m afraid what my voice would sound like. I’m afraid I would regret it if I didn’t get the changes I want. I don’t even know what changes I want. I just know I don’t want to look like my father. Which would probably happen. But seriously. I don’t know if I want to live my life as male. As a man. I’m afraid to age as a trans guy. I’m afraid my dysphoria over my lower half will only grow. I’m afraid it will consume me. I’m afraid I will want surgery. Why can’t I just be a lesbian? Wouldn’t that be easier in the long run? It’s just, I’m really feminine… and I don’t know how to be a feminine dyke because… I don’t want to be a girl. I don’t, at all. I’m not a girl. But I don’t know if I want to be a man. I’m a boy, and a woman. Neither, and both. Where is the line in this binary society, and how can I walk it? What kind of feminine do I want to be? Do I want to be a small, short, feminine mannish person; or an “average” feminine womanish person? I am even still considering the possibility of being female. I just don’t want to continue THIS way anymore, hyper-masculinizing myself, my appearance, in order to “pass”, in order to be received as male. But I still feel perceived wrong most of the time. I feel perceived wrong no matter how I’m being perceived! It only feels “right” when people know I’m trans. When people understand the extent of my female socialization and the degree to which I identify with women. So why transition then? If I identify with women and feel uncomfortable in male-dominated spaces, why become one? Why not remain female? I don’t know. Honestly. All I know is that I can’t stay this way. Something has to change. I don’t feel that my current way of presentation is true to me. It’s too masculine. It’s too… young boy. I don’t like being fifteen. I’m almost 21, but I don’t see it. I don’t see it at all. Sometimes I feel it, like when I’m interacting with professors or grocery shopping or paying bills or cooking dinner… but I don’t see it in my relationships, I don’t see it in many of my actions, and I certainly don’t see it in the mirror. Julz raised a good point in her video where she renounced her identity as a transmale and voiced her desire to be recognized as a butch lesbian; she said, “I think it was so appealing to me to be received as male because then I am received as a good boy, a gentleman, normal, upstanding. As a butch lesbian, I am received as a deviant, a freak, visibly living a life contrary to the traditional way of doing things.” I can’t break free from this feeling that those are the reasons I am “doing this” (perhaps more accurately, feeling this). I’ve internalized all of society’s homophobic messages. They’re all I know. I’ve given my soul over to the binary. Actually, that is a lie. My soul has no gender, it sees no binary. Should I take a gender identity in this life it would be… this. Transgender. Beyond gender. Bi-gender. Gender-free. I guess that’s not really “taking a gender” then, is it. Well, I can’t. but I guess it’s necessary I choose a sex. That’s so difficult though. Oh, my body. It limits me. It confines me. It’s so praised, the body, so valued. So much importance is placed on it, on attractiveness, on gender, on age, on height, on size, on ability. I am not disabled. I am able and I am capable and I am intelligent. But my body. The body controls so much of our life experience. I just, I don’t know. What kind of life experiences do I want to have? What community to I want to be a part of? Will it destroy me to lose the lesbian community? I don’t like to think about it. I don’t like to think about things changing. Because I’m so blessed. I have so much going for me. But this… this is always there. Every time I use the bathroom. Every time I shower. Every time I have sex, or navigate the dating pool, or breathe really. Thank you sir. Thank you ma’am. Inconsistent. Even within the same conversation. “Oh, I love Eli. He’s such a great writer.” “Yeah, she’s really talented.” What? I’m tired of this. I’m tired. I’m tired of being judged and I’m tired of judging myself and I’m ready to move forward in some way. I just want to move forward. I want to hold hands and be united with others and talk and converse and cuddle and make love and share. I want community. Let’s move forward.

I have been holding on to hope that through speaking things that are solely positive I would come to enjoy that I am alive.  I have been pushing myself to carry self-dialogues that are solely uplifting, quoting every inspirational source I can think of, even praying and reading Scripture—believing that if I focused on the good things I would be able to find confidence in a bright future.  I had honestly thought this would work; that if I could control my thoughts I could then generate positive self-talk and with enough of that happy self-talk I would eventually find happiness.  I don’t believe that anymore. 

The problem with the above approach is that it requires that I be alive.  I am not alive.  I am here, physically breathing, but I am dead.  Someone has taken over my life—someone sad, someone consumed by sorrow, consumed by confusion, consumed by uncertainty…too tired to think, too tired to eat, too tired to sleep, too tired to spend energy on making the future look appealing.  The future doesn’t look appealing.  The present doesn’t even look appealing.  I want out.  This person is sucking all the life out of me.   I don’t like him and I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know how to help me get away from him.   I need help.

The person I was before lived life, and lived it fully; this person was full of hope and trust and positivity.  He was genuine, authentic, unashamed, resilient, brave, genuinely happy and an unlimited source of love to countless people.  He knew oppression, but he had confidence in his ability to overcome it; he knew pain but he knew love could overcome it.  He knew sorrow, but he knew it was fleeting and had faith in the resurgence of joy.  Now, underneath every thought and every action, he feels sorrow, and only sorrow.

To make something very clear: This is not about the person that I lost.  While losing my very best friend has been extraordinarily painful and consuming, this despair is about so much more than that.  I have never never felt so strongly like I was doing everything in my life wrong.  I have never felt such strong opposition.  I have never felt so weighed down, tied up, oppressed, hopeless, or directionless.  I have never hated myself so strongly.  I have never felt so tired of existing, existence, the human experience, other humans.   I don’t want any of it.

I don’t really know what to do with myself.  I really don’t feel like trudging forward.  I don’t know how to go about picking up the pieces and collecting myself to move on in the way I need to.  And while the person that I am now has done extraordinary things to improve his life—moved out of his parents’ house, picked up some of the bills he used to have his parents pay, registered for a semester of classes that genuinely interest him, surrounded himself with friends, and created lists of priorities and goals which he has even begun to tackle, looking so motivated and inspired—the fact still remains that the passionate love for life that he had just days ago is nowhere to be found. 

If we are spirits on a human journey, and I’ve lost my spirit, what am I? An empty shell?  That’s how I feel…. deflated, empty, hollow.  There is nothing to me anymore, I just float on.  I’ve forgotten what it feels like to smile.  I’ve forgotten what it feels like to enjoy a hug.  I’ve forgotten what it feels like to love, to enjoy a sunset, to listen to a song and be happy, to lust after something, to desire to be around people, to want to wake up in the morning, to enjoy being alive, to be alive.

And while this isn’t about my last relationship, there is something extraordinary that happened in it that you should know about: I took a break from hating myself.   In fact, I almost forgot what it felt like to hate myself–even when that was my strongest internalized feeling for so much of my life.  I’m won’t go so far as to say that this girl’s love is what changed me or that without her I can’t find such self-love on my own; I know that I can find this love again, alone, someday.  But I had never had someone take such care with my heart before.  In places that I felt entirely unlovable and unattractive, I knew love for the first time.  In a world that is so preoccupied with gender and sexuality, I found someone who didn’t care and loved me for me.  I can say with no hesitation, the past four months have been the most meaningful four months of my adult life.  I grew so much as a person.  I discovered a new depth to myself and the life I lead.  I was in love with everything about everything.  I knew joy.

And then I lost that joy.  The only people whose opinions seem to matter oppose me.  “We love you but we will never approve of your life.”   “We have put up with you living this way for long enough.”  “It is our prayer that you will one day reconnect with the person you were meant to be.”  “We think it would be best for you to pretend you never met her.”

And people wonder why I actively, consistently grieve over my attraction to women—to the point where I could kill myself over it; to the point where I can fantasize about careening into oncoming traffic easier than I can fantasize about how great the future could be.  People wonder why my whole late adolescence and early adult life I have been preoccupied with gender and sexuality; why I spend so much time educating the world on the issues that homosexual and transsexual individuals face and checking psychological associations religiously to see what current studies and publications report about LGBT people.  I do these things operating under the hypothesis that if I were “just” heterosexual I could love those I love openly in the world, and be accepted and affirmed and supported.  I firmly believe that if I were not “queer” I would not be going through this, that this would not be my life–because my love and my life would have been supported from the start and I wouldn’t have had to fight.  I never wanted this.

If you can’t see that I am a good person who tries to do the right thing in every circumstance I find myself in, you are the reason I am in agony.  My life is about love, and life, and living in love, and loving passionately.  I am so aware that I can’t help the world that I was born into, this society, the worldviews that shape the people around me, or anything other than myself really.  And with that I try so hard to have control over that person and make that person someone worthy of love and acceptance and approval.  I spend days at a time trying to better myself, looking inward and finding flaws and trying to fix myself to make myself better—a better lover, a better student, a better child, a better friend, a better coworker; more productive and efficient and contributing; better at displaying love, more full of positivity….  I even turn this around and make it external, focusing on society, educating society, showing society that people like me are okay, that I am not a monster, that I am just a kid trying to live his life…. But I’m still the monster anyway; I’m still the fuck-up, the failure, the disappointment. 

To those who want to knock me down:  Congratulations on your success.

There are few things that hurt more than thinking about all the apologies I feel that I owe the world right now, even when I don’t feel that all of them make sense.  I’m sorry I caused the one person I loved fully and completely and devoted all my time and energy to for the past four months any pain; I’m sorry that I have hurt her family and I’m sorry if there is even a fraction of it that is beyond repair; I’m sorry for the physical pain she is in and I’m sorry for any part I have had in any of her emotional pain; I am sorry that I can’t be heteronormative and sorry that my parents have to deal with it; sorry that they have had to mourn the loss of certain hopes and dreams for the future, the loss of their daughter, the loss of dresses, etc.  I’m sorry I have lied and snuck around and allowed someone in my life to do the same; I’m sorry that I had even encouraged lying and sneaking; I’m sorry that the best I can do is remove myself from the lives of the people I have hurt and I’m sorry that I can’t actually verbalize these apologies to the people I need to hear them; I’m sorry that I’ve failed you; I’m sorry that there is nothing I can do to show you that my heart is pure.  I’m broken and I’m sorry.  All of me is sorry. 

And to think I was actually finding happiness and learning to love myself.  To think I was deluded into thinking that there is room for me in the world, that I, Eli, could even exist here.  Was I crazy?

So here we are.  This is all that exists now.  I am sorry and full of sorrow.  I am on my own, jaded and untrusting.  I’m a new person.  Maybe someday Eli will be around again, but for now there is just this.  

To those I’ve hurt, I’m sorry.  If there were ways to better apologize, I would do it.  If I knew what the people I have hurt needed to hear, I would say it.  If there was something I could do to make amends, I would do that.  I’ve grown up a lot in the past few weeks; I’m not so naive anymore, not so childlike and trusting.  The world isn’t as beautiful as some sunsets make it seem, and sometimes even love gets you in trouble.  I never meant any disrespect.  I never meant any pain.  I don’t even know how this happened.  I was thinking that it was the right time for me to fight for what I wanted, and I did.

And in that, somehow everything went wrong.  And in that, I lost myself somewhere. 

In this life, I have been promised love, but not approval.  And while I believe in the power of love, sometimes love is not enough.

Love doesn’t always win. 

Some lessons are harder to learn.

The truth is, I want to throw myself in front of a speeding train, jump off a bridge or cliff, lock myself in a running car in a small garage, drive into oncoming traffic, or anything certain to end my life.  But I keep posting positive shit because no one wants to hear that.  Also I keep thinking that all this positivity will change me.  It hasn’t.

Every time I think things are getting better, I find out new details that only make me further upset.  I honestly feel as if I’m on rock bottom… only until I feel myself fall a little further.

My parents wanted to get me mental help, to appease the parents of my ex-girlfriend.  Their motivation to get me help was to be as a barter, so that her parents would stop threatening to take legal action against me.  That was a week and a half ago.  Since then, there has been no talk of getting me help.  But I need it. 

I’m going crazy, and no amount of friend’s love is helping.  I sincerely cannot take life right now and do not desire to live through this.  I have never known these emotions before, and this scares me.  If I didn’t have faith in my future, that in time I will overcome this, I would have already done something drastic. 

But right now it doesn’t matter that I’m not going to kill myself; it matters that it’s all I think about.