I’ve been trying to write for the last few weeks with very little success, obviously, because nothing seems right. I have ideas I want to discuss but, as the words flow onto the screen, I lose rhythm. I lose the point. So I have about a dozen half-written posts with ideas that just lay there, dying. What do I want to talk about? The struggle I’m witnessing in my family and friends? The panic I see arising in people’s eyes as they accidentally use the wrong pronoun or name? The weight of being the only non-binary person in their lives and having to answer questions that even I barely understand at times? The struggle with dating, attraction, and sexuality that is tied to being non-binary but not mutually exclusive? Do I want to talk about my mental health issues, and how they don’t relate, yet still have impact upon my identity? Does this blog have to be about being androgynous or, like me, can it just be about living honestly and fully, and how those adventures weave in and out of being non-binary?
I don’t have the answer right now. But I do have a story. Continue reading Beauty in the Scars
Perspective is a fickle, interesting creature. It was just a few days ago when this line got thrown across my lap while sitting around a fine at a friend’s house. There I was, firmly comfortable in my squishy chair, playing with my backwards cap as I happily listened to the laughter of this rag-tag group of kids that I’ve grown fiercely protective of. I was, for the first time, comfortably clothed the way I wanted to be, and had spoken to a few more people about my gender identity. Not a huge coming out by any means, but a quick glance at me didn’t scream female and that made me happy. Comfy red, oversized flannel partially buttoned over a black tank top, dark blue jeans, black sneakers and a well-fitting Valken ball cap. I was feeling good all around, and dressed in a manner that you really couldn’t tell what my sex was. I was happy.
I’m not entirely sure how the conversation shifted to gender, or if someone was making a comment and my cousin was just responding, but in his easy-going manner that makes it difficult to both hate and love him at times, he responded to the person talking and waved his hand at me while saying “you don’t count you’re just confused.” Continue reading You Are Just Confused
As I type this on my phone I’m looking out over a room filled with my friends and family. I look at them and feel such a gentleness hit my body; the kind of gentleness that you feel when you look at the ones you love unconditionally.
Such an interesting concept, unconditional love. Misunderstood amongst all ages today, as we are struggling within the age of me, myself and I. Conversations filled with constantly one upping the previous story, trying to redirect attention onto oneself and then waiting for reactions that either reinforce actions or further shove a person down. I know I am guilty of this offense; many of us do not realize that we are doing it when we do it. It is not necessarily a bad trait amongst the upcoming generation. We have spent years watching the generations before us keep so much inside, so much private, and constantly snap from the stress of it all. But we don’t necessarily understand how to go about communicating what we feel, and what we need. Not everyone goes through this, but a lot of people who I’ve spoken with have expressed this sentiment.
Continue reading Fear
Faith is not my legal name; although it will be when I can finally afford to. I never liked my name, and long before I started on my gender identity journey, I was on an overall who am I journey. During that time I was writing about my past, the traumas that I faced, and was told to choose a name to protect my identity. I was taking a class that focused on writing about love and loss, and my professor was going to include my essays in his textbook. I spoke about self-harm, child abuse, suicide attempts, and overall depression. To keep all of his students safe, my professor asked for pseudonyms. Faith was born then. Faith, an ideology that was broken within me. Faith, a concept that I was trying to regain in my life. Faith, one of my favorite characters on TV in a show the resonated around the world. The name became my own.
Broken, drowning, lost and feeling so disconnected from the world around me, Faith rose up within me as I navigated my world through essays, reflections and prose. Taryn Davies came later, through gentle musings and a need to feel complete. My given name is still used, out of legality, out of disrespect and out of confusion. But that girl is gone. She is gone with the gender roles and deep secrets that always held her back.
Continue reading What Do You Want To Be Called?
One of the issues that I’ve found in the LGBTQ+ community is the consistent use of umbrella terms. I understand why the practice exists, and continues. Writing out the entirety of the community could take years as a new term is added under the glorious rainbow umbrella each day. With the variations that take place even within basic terms, like “lesbian,” I understand the struggle the community faces in finding a home for all those searching for love, understanding and identity.
Then there are those outside the community trying to understand the melting pot our community has become. Many are trying to be allies, and trying to understand so that they make their loved ones feel loved and accepted. It’s hard. Years of conditioning (gender binaries, heteronormativity etc) are working against their attempts in understanding, and for them, understanding is important. It gives them a connection to us. It is something more than just “accepting” us for who we are. Continue reading I’m Not Transgender, I Have Gender Dysphoria.
I should start this post by stating that I am no expert in this field. I am still navigating my own gender identity, and each day can be a struggle. However, it doesn’t mean I won’t share what I feel and what I find in my own search for understand who I am as a person.
The first time I truly was educated on the concept of gender I was in college. Stereotypically so, I was in a women’s studies course, and naturally we were talking about sex, sexuality and gender. If I’m not mistaken I think the class was titled that, but it has been so many years. I digress, there was I was, a young adult, sitting in an uncomfortable desk having my concepts of gender completely torn asunder.
Continue reading What Does Androgyne Mean?
Yesterday I attended a mental health support group called Rational Thinking. The purpose of the group is to address issues with irrational thinking, and provide skills that will assist with reframing negative thought processes into positive ones. I pride myself in being able to identify my irrational thoughts and I work hard not to let them overrun my mind. For many that is no easy task so, again, I take pride in my skills.
The wonderful person leading the group had decided to try to address irrational thinking in a new creative way. She asked us to take an index card, write down an irrational thought, and place it in (anonymously) in a box. She would read them aloud once everyone was finished. I took two index cards. I understand the power of putting words to paper, so the chance of placing negative thoughts on paper and then giving them away wasn’t something I was going to pass up. I put my first irrational thought down, and then turned to the second card. What to write? I had been grappling, for weeks, with relationship insecurities, so I decided to write about that. However, I never expected the words that appeared in front of me to be what they were. Continue reading Irrational Thoughts