of all the things i worry or am self-conscious about… (like my writing skills)
gender is never that thing. for this i am grateful.
physically i am one thing. in my brain i am “whatever.” it’s taken a long time to get here for me, believe me. i probably don’t dress in a way that matches with how people perceive me as (unless it’s say, a job interview.) i don’t care. sometimes it confuses people. sometimes they label me. i say, “whatever.” i’m done being offended. i’m done caring. plenty of people have and do mistake me for the wrong sex even though it’s become a lot harder to make that mistake these days. doesn’t matter, i won’t speak to most of them ever again. choose the right one? great. we can discuss kittens or my little pony. there is one person in my life that probably cares what gender i am, and i will leave the caring to him. i refuse to subscribe to gender norms.
otherwise, my gender is like my sexuality. if it comes up in conversation or i draw a picture of myself or you learn of it, great. that’s a bingo. otherwise it should matter to no one. my work isn’t the way it is because i’m one thing or the other. it’s because i’m “me.”
I am a Riss.
I dream that someday we can live in a world where people are defined by who they are and not what. Don’t get caught up by he/she/it. They don’t matter the majority of the time.
