Raising Faith

We currently live in culture trying so desperately to figure out how to be human and humane that there is a disturbing backward trend that results in people clinging so desperately to ignorance and fear that there is an acceptance of inhumane¬†treatment and actions, to the point it is celebrated and stoutly, and violently, justified to act in such a manner. Somehow, somewhere in this painful growth spurt in humanity, any thought, existence, idea that makes an individual uncomfortable is automatically wrong and that person is justified to act in any manner they see fit to address it and that action should be automatically accepted because said person is just acting authentically, and well we should accept all people for who they are…

I call bullshit.
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You’re a Pretty Man

It is not a secret that I take immense pleasure when I am addressed/referred to as anything but female; it’s almost juvenile. I love being called sir, dude, etc because woman/female doesn’t fit. Although being male doesn’t fit either, having spent 30 years being labeled in the wrong term, any reference outside of said label is liberating. It’s exciting. It’s the opposite of everything I’ve been told I am. It’s outside of the identity I was told to have.

Still…as I begrudgingly admit, being referenced as male is incorrect, despite my somewhat childish glee from it.
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You Are Just Confused

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.

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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

What Does Androgyne Mean?

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.

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Irrational Thoughts

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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