some of my paintings

Shades of grey with reguards to sex, gender and sexual orientation

Ok so originally this post was going to be about pansexuality and the roles of labels in sex and gender and sexual orientation, but I think there is also the bigger issue of how we so often insist that things be black or white and fail to see or accept everything that lies in between.  I now hope to discuss one in the process of discussing the other.

One of the biggest challenges of any label is that within any group the individuals that make up that group can be very different and that there may not be a label that fits an individual particularly when it’s an either or system. What happens to the person that fits requirements of both or neither? Then we create the idea of you’re this or that or neither, neither being a catch all for anything that doesn’t fit the original (often binary) system.

At this point I would like to mention while I do have some firsthand knowledge on what I’m about to discuss and have done some limited discussions with others as well as done some reading on the subject(s), I am by no means an ‘authority’.  There may be some info that does not reflect the general consensus, and there may be some opinions that are, not only, not agreed with, but feel somehow painful; my goal is to express my thoughts on the subject with hopes of furthering discussions and understanding. This is written out a place of love and wanting to understand, not out of a place of hate, so please try and keep that in mind.  (And if you feel I am misinformed, please feel free to share your thoughts, but also understand that while I will listen and try to understand your point of view, I may not agree with you. I am trying to be as respectful as possible and ask that you do the same.)

Another issue that comes up with labels is that we do not all agree on the definitions of labels and yet act as if the definitions are obvious. We need to speak the same language if we are to get anywhere closer to really understanding what the other is trying to say. This is true for most things. In math we can’t simply combine fractions with different denominators without first finding a common denominator. In a game to really be fair and have fun we need to establish the rules at the beginning. Language is a bit more obvious, but the example of the word ‘gift’ in English meaning a present has a far different meaning than the word ‘gift’ in German meaning poison, shows how if we’re not using the same language, the same word can have a grossly different meanings. 

But then comes the challenge of using the same language, what if we cannot agree on the basics, what if the language is inadequate. This is the problem I’ve come across lately, particularly where gender, sex and sexual orientation come in.

I have a friend who is trying to learn about sexual orientation for, among other reasons, as part of a class for social work. She knew I did not consider myself part of what the majority labels itself, in this case, as I do not consider myself straight (nor do I think I really have ever met anyone who would classify me as such) and so she asked to interview me as part of a paper for class. And had she asked me the first question a year ago, my answer would have been different, not because I feel my sexual orientation itself has actually changed, but because I did not (and still do not in some ways) have a word that accurately described my sexual orientation. I chose pansexual because it’s the only group I have found that does not exclude me. And through the course of these discussions with her (as well as others) I came to the conclusion that there is a problem with the language, there is no accurate label for me beyond the catch all of pansexuality. And the thoughts and feeling surrounding this label show me even more the lack of a label for it and perhaps a need for it, or more so the acceptance that not everything fits into our neat little boxes and not trying to force it to.

Here are some of the basic problems I have in terms of claiming a sexual orientation under the labels that society has created: all our traditional definitions of sexual orientation are based around gender and/or sex. Again I am aware of the failure of the language because I have issue with the definition(s) of both sex and gender; I somewhat cringed with using “gender and/or sex” because on some level they have the same problems that sexual orientation labels have.

I think part of the problem is the whole black/white thing. At the extremes it is significantly easier to classify one as one or the other, but the closer we get to the middle is where it becomes unclear. Now I am more than aware that it will be impossible to ever come up with labels that capture all that an individual is. (Please see the affect/effect of labels post for more discussion on labels themselves) So I guess it’s a big improvement to have a catch all, a way of accepting that the other labels do not fit, but it is also important to note that catch alls are more likely to be grouped by what you’re not instead of what you are.

Traditionally there is male and female. But the definitions of these are not always clear. And then there is also the dilemma between the definitions of sex and gender. For many, sex is a biological and physically based definition, often using criteria of chromosomes, genitalia and biochemistry. While gender is even more confusing as it seems to be a societal construct based on what is agreed on to be ‘masculine or feminine’.

 Many societies agree generally on what is on a biological sex nature as being either male or female and more and more are accepting that there is, at least, a third option for those that don’t really fit either. But it is really not definite. Some may look at the chromosomes and say XX is female and XY is male. Ok good a definition… but what about those that are XXY (and yes it happens)? Is it the having two ‘X’s that makes you female or the having a ‘Y’ that makes you male? So then let’s go to genitalia, males have penises and testicles while women have vaginas, ovaries, uteruses and clitorises. OK again for the majority this will help define them, and usually correlates to the chromosome definition, but what about those that have all of the above? Or what about someone where it is not clear, particularly at birth, what they have? Also if you have a hysterectomy does that mean you aren’t a woman anymore? Then how about biochemistry, again not only is it always not definite or obvious, it changes over a person’s lifetime, I mean look at puberty and menopause. And secondary sexual characteristics are not really anymore clear, there are women who are hairier and bigger and stronger and have smaller breasts, etc than some men.  And then also take in consideration that physiologically there seems to exist some correlation between sex and brain chemistry and structure, which while typically falling along the sex lines, does not always. My point is what defines sex is not black and white.  

Which is a problem because on some level gender and then sexual orientation are built on the idea that it is. In a culture, the society has some agreement, on average, on how a male or female is viewed and should act in society. This shapes not only our view of ourselves, but how others view us and therefore treat us. This can change over the course of time and also from culture to culture. One culture might say that women are supposed to be submissive and quiet, while men are dominant and loud; where as in a society like the Amazons the reverse may be true. And at one time men of wealth equally wore high heels in Europe. At one time in western civilization, for a woman to wear pants was taboo, while it’s still quite taboo for a man to wear a dress.  Gender is somewhat a push to prove you’re either a man or a woman to society and does not have to match one’s defined biological sex either. The problem is many do not fit classically, in the same way, into either group all the time. There really needs to be more options. There is to some extent, tomboy, effeminate male, butch so on, but these come with so much judgment and often a proof of how one doesn’t fit the ‘norm’.  What if you don’t feel masculine or feminine, or what if you’re both? What if your biological sex that society gives you does not match how you feel, what if the sex assigned is not what you agree with even without gender roles? What if you have no specified sex, which gender roles are you expected to follow? What if you consider yourself a woman, but act entirely masculine? And so on. There is just so much grey here and yet so often we’re forced to pick one or the other (and what we label ourselves is not always what others would).

And then consider that our classical definitions of sexual orientation are based on whether you’re male or female and whether you’re attracted to males or females. If you’re attracted to the opposite only you are considered heterosexual. If you’re attracted to the same you’re considered homosexual. If you’re attracted to both the same and opposite of you you are considered bisexual. The problem with all these definitions is they depend on a binary system of gender/sex when there isn’t one. Yes a person who by all definitions fits male who dates only people who by all definitions are female, nicely fits into the classification of heterosexual, but what about someone whose sex/gender is not clearly defined?

At this point I feel the need to point out the importance I see with how people define themselves. To me, a self proclaimed man could be either cis-man (one where biological definitions and gender role definitions match) or trans-man, either way he is a man and so if he is attracted to a woman (whether cis or trans) he is by usual definition heterosexual. If a trans-man is attracted to men (whether cis or trans) he would fit into a definition of being gay. I know many would not agree with this, mostly I believe with the debate in society as to whether a trans-man is a man. I think because there is no definite definition and it is not a black and white thing, we must accept what labels people give themselves and be respectful of that, and keep in mind no person fully meets all of everyone’s definitions of even the same label. I also wanted to point out that just because someone is trans does not mean they are gay or straight or bi. Also by the same token just because someone doesn’t feel they fit either gender or fits both doesn’t mean they have to lay claim to one or the other. A transgendered person does not necessarily mean their sex is opposite from their gender. It can be a catch all for anyone who doesn’t feel they fit the standard definitions. And not everyone who’s sex and gender roles don’t match considers themselves trans. I know many, particularly women, who while comfortably calling themselves women actually fit the masculine gender roles definitions more than the feminine, I still accept them as women. Also just because someone doesn’t feel they fit homosexual, heterosexual or bi because they’re attraction is not limited to a binary system, does not mean they don’t label themselves as male or female. I wish there didn’t seem to be such a need by people to categorize, it wouldn’t matter so much if we weren’t expected to treat someone differently based on this label. I mean it’s on so many government forms, and often without an alternative.

 Here’s where my problem really happened. I don’t believe I fall into a binary gender/sex system and neither do my attractions to other people, I can be attracted to men and women and anyone that either biologically or socially falls somewhere in between; and therefore can’t classify ‘same’ or ‘opposite’.  So the catch all of pansexual is where I went. Because I like men so I’m not homosexual, I like women so I’m not heterosexual and I see that there are other options beyond men and women so I’m not bi. So pansexual it is by default.

But this had a problem. Not many people know what this mean and it’s an all inclusive group…. (see next post for continuation as to pansexuality)

An eye for an eye...

So at the moment in history class we’re talking about the time period between the two world wars and it really got me thinking how different the world could be if when they were writing the treaty of Versailles that they hadn’t been out for some sort of revenge, some sort of we’re winners and you’re losers and we’re going to make you pay. Particularly when there was no clear winner or loser and Germany (who got the brunt of the fall out) was not entirely to blame nor did they do anything more horrible than anyone else.  If they had followed Woodrow Wilson’s idea of a “peace without victory” I think things would have been very, very different. (Such as I don’t think WWII and the rise of Hitler would have really happened) And had they stopped and listened to Ho Chi Minh who had begged them to listen to his concerns about the future of Vietnam while they were writing the treaty of Versailles, perhaps that whole thing would have been different too…

But I digress, we could spend forever discussing the moments in time that we could have done something different, knowing that things would be different, but not necessarily better; and to spend energy wishing we could change the past when we can’t, is a waste, but from looking at the past we can learn to try to do things differently in the future. This is where I am.

Looking at this time frame, and particularly what happened at the writing of the Treaty of Versailles, I see some problems that we as humans often seem to have and the future impact these things have. It is so common to have this desire for revenge, for placing blame, for demanding there to be a winner and a loser, etc, even when there really isn’t a need. The whole thing makes me sad on some level because it doesn’t always have to be that way and quite often it ends up not only hurting the other person, but us as well. Makes me think of the Gandhi quote “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind”.  Revenge really gets us nowhere, or at least doesn’t really help us.

I do believe there are times when people are at fault, whether they break rules or inflict damage to another or what have you; and I do believe there are times when there is a winner and a loser (more so in games then in war), but I believe how we treat people who do us harm is so very important.

The whole idea of “an eye for an eye” was setup to try and limit escalation of events, to create some sort of law as to cause and effect that would limit feuds and just dole out punishment. Before this the powerful would simply squash the weak, before this one might kill another’s goat and in pay back the victim would turn around and kill the other’s son which would then spark a retribution for that and so on leaving destruction in its path. It was an effort to say if you did this, this would happen, end of story. Which I believe was a step forward.

But I believe we also use this idea as an excuse to do the opposite, we see the harm others inflict on us but do not always see the harm we inflict on others. We use this ‘eye for an eye’ as a justification for me to cause you pain because you caused me pain, which only adds to the pain of the world.

Also I still think there is some basic problem in the idea of if you do me wrong you then owe me, particularly if the return payment is too big or if the wrong was to some degree unintentional. We let our anger run away with us. I’m not saying that if you stole fifty bucks from my brother (or vice versa) you shouldn’t have some punishment for it (otherwise I think there would be chaos)such as a minimum of if you still have the money it should be returned but there needs to be some consideration for the factors involved. Why was the money stolen? Does the punishment fit the crime? And so on. I think the goal of punishment should be to detour people from doing things against the rules and try to keep things as fair as possible, a way of protecting everyone, everyone.  There is a definite cause and effect that happens, if you’re mean to someone, they should have every right to wish to not be your friend or even not be around you if possible, but the mentality of I should be mean right back to them bothers me. I feel we often take things from the realm of protecting ourselves to the point of actually using someone else’s misdeeds as an excuse to inflict pain on them.  Which is particularly worrisome when there really aren’t winners and loser and really no one is more at fault than anyone else, then it becomes the powerful bullying the weak again, and not a way of trying to correct and reduce problems in the future.

This may just be yet another way where my view of the world is simply different from many, but I don’t get any genuine pleasure or gain from inflicting pain on others even if they somehow ‘deserve it’. It does not bring me joy nor take away the pain to watch someone else who caused me pain to have pain inflicted on them. It all only further adds ill will to the world. I think there should be consequences for actions because it would be unfair otherwise, but I think these consequences should stop at trying to make things better in the future and not go into the realm of simply wanting to inflict pain.

I know on some level from looking at history, that there is some part of us, of humanity, that seems to enjoy other’s pain. This is why the gladiators were so exciting to Rome, the executions so exciting to Europeans, perhaps even why we laugh a bit when someone falls and hurts themselves. And we are somehow convinced that watching someone who has caused us problems misery, will make our pain less, will make our lives better. It’s somehow the idea of it’s ok if I’m miserable as long as someone else is too.

I think there is, also, some level of they deserve it. I find this a bit of a sticky thought. There does have to be some sort of cause and effect, some sort of consequences to maintain order and try to promote justice, I accept that. I believe if I do something wrong, I should have to face a reasonable punishment or consequence for it. However, there is something in the pleasure at someone else’s misery that I find disturbing. I, at least from my experience of being a boss, really hated having to punish another, I took no joy in it. It was necessary to maintain order (there is some danger and unjustice to not following through with reasonable punishments and expectations. There needs to be some level of cause and effect to cause learning, growth and order) but I never wanted to have to do it. I wanted everyone to just follow the rules or if they didn’t agree with them try to work in respectful confines to try and change them.  But at no point did I try to cause pain because I wanted to (and not just because it was wrong to do so, I never wanted to.) Causing you pain does not make me feel better, causing you pain causes me pain.

 Although, perhaps, there is some level of frustration going on; of feeling helpless to fix anything and so the only thing that eases that is perhaps seeing them in pain as proof that you were somehow right and they were wrong. Maybe that is a core issue, this frustration and belief that their pain takes away some blame or shame and puts it on them. It seems on some basic, possibly primal level, to abate this frustration when there seems to be no other way.

The challenge I think is to let this go, this concept of being right and wrong, of making them pay (as if a million dollars really replaces someone’s life) to move beyond the frustration (of not being able to change the past, to truly ‘fix’ it) and try and make a better world for all of us. How different would the world be if we could really let go of wanting to hurt someone because they hurt us, let go of any pleasure in hurting another, and spend the energy trying to make a better future?

What if the Allies had simply accepted that this whole first World War was a huge mistake brought about by many of the problems in Western Civilization, of which they were all partly to blame, and had simply agreed that the best interest for everyone was to end the war and let everyone rebuild their countries after the destruction, instead of making someone the loser and making them pay something they had NO hope of ever really paying? How different would it be if we all tried to focus on the causes of problems, taking in consideration any part we or the society may have in the conflict, and how to do things differently going forward? If we could somehow move away from adding any extra secondary or tertiary emotions of shame and so on, that so often hold us back from making any real change, and focus on how we could try to make it better? No amount of inflicting pain will change the past, ever. All that we can possibly do is try to change the future.

I know someone out there is probably thinking something about how foolish or naïve this whole thought of the world is, probably thinking it’s awfully utopian in its outlook. Maybe it is on some level. My only real argument to that is, I am under no delusion that there will never be conflict, not only do I think that’s impossible, I think it would cause evolution and growth to halt in its tracks. There is nothing wrong with conflict, nothing wrong with not doing something perfectly, with not being perfect. We wouldn’t be human without it, we will make mistakes, it’s human. My only hope is that we try to move to a place where just because one makes the mistake of inflicting pain, we don’t try and destroy them or take pleasure in their pain, not asking that we do this every time perfectly, but just a hope that we stop and think, that we try to learn and grow, that we try.

Selling Myself into Slavery of the Mental Variety

Mental slavery, I’m sure this can spark many a blog and many a discussion, even a fraction of which I hope to have the energy to engage in, and will try to re-visit the topic as I’m not really going to get into all my thoughts on the subject.

But this specific post is a semi-continuation/tangent/somehow related in my head to the Iris and the silently screaming posts that precede it, please bear with me for inevitable connection I hope to make clear. In that post I discuss some of my struggles of being misunderstood or not seen, partly related to change. That whole thought was sparked by what I’m about to discuss, and although not necessarily directly related, seem to emanate from a similar source and frustration that brought me to tears for much of the day last Wed. They both seem to be examples of one another and yet separate, but related tangents.

Tuesday night, after months of searching for a job, almost any other job, and getting nowhere, and being brought to a place where I felt to have no real alternative, I decided to try to go back to work for a specific company that has a series of pizza places, whom I worked for many years.

For those of you who know the whole story of my past employment there, this thought alone probably causes some sort of very sick feeling in your stomach because you know the danger and all that goes along with this decision. (Believe me I was very, very sick over this and I will get into that more later in this piece) Please keep that in mind, but don’t let it stop you from really listening to what I have to say. This all was incredibly difficult for me, and I will try to explain all my thoughts and feeling about it, but please be patient and please don’t judge (at least before hearing the whole thing).

For those of you that don’t know, working there had become absolute hell in a very complicated and sad way. When I started, I really enjoyed it on some level. It was probably one of the best jobs I ever had. I had fun, I met many people I enjoy, it wasn’t perfect, but it seemed to be an answer to a prayer. And in honesty a lot of the problems that would come later had as much to do with me as anyone else. I did well and was fairly quickly offered more hours and promotions. I had always been more than eager to help, which is not really a bad thing, but the problem came where I couldn’t say no and at times this seemed to be taken advantage of. I found myself agreeing to do things I didn’t want to do, had I been stronger, or known how to cope better I could have saved myself a lot of misery. So I found myself as a manager even though I had never intended for this job to become a career (it started out as a way to pay some bills until I could afford to go back to school (keep this parallel in mind) nothing more than that) partly because I couldn’t say no, partly because I wanted to help and not let people down, and probably because some part of me felt a little better having a title (somehow saying in my mind I was not as big of a loser as I felt, but that’s another complicated tangent perhaps for another day). So before I really knew what was happening I ended up getting myself into a position that I would not easily feel I could get out of. Being a manager would not have been so bad if I had more self-esteem. I really didn’t hate being a manager, there were several things about it I really enjoyed, but it seemed to further amplify my own defects. Because I never felt I was trying hard enough, never felt I was doing a good enough job, I worked way, way too much and never could give myself credit for what I did right, nor ever let myself really take joy in any of it. My boss would often tell me all the things he was proud of me for, all the things he thought I was doing well (and I now realize there was a fair number of things) but all I ever heard or saw was what I needed to work on. I never felt I was good enough, never felt I was really worthy of anything good and because of it I worked myself into a mental breakdown. I never slept enough, never ate enough, never really saw friends outside work, never did anything to take care of myself, all I did was work. And work at a job where I never felt I was good enough. On top of all the stuff going on inside my head, add the fact that my abusive girlfriend was my assistant manager and so there was a whole other level of shit going on beyond just the job.  Add to all this, the fact that I lacked good stress coping skills and it was a recipe for absolute disaster.

 I did not know how to change what was happening, didn’t think I deserved to and didn’t know how to cope. I was miserable on so many different levels. (but keep in mind it really wasn’t all hell I did occasionally in spite of myself actually have fun, and do have quite a few good memories, but they are often overshadowed by the bad) I was stressed out in almost every area of my life and didn’t know what to do about it and it all seemed to be related on some level to the job. I never seemed to have enough money (and therefore was getting further and further away from my goal of going back to school) never had enough time, there were way too many entanglements with my girlfriend and felt completely trapped. I was so suicidal most of the time, I spent so much energy trying to destroy myself because it’s what I thought I deserved. I didn’t take care of myself, many basic needs were not really being met and on top of that I would further purposely punish myself.  I’d have panic attacks every time I’d walk in the store. I’d cut or burn myself just to make it through the day, I’d obsess over suicide because it seemed to be my only way out. I felt I was digging myself into a hole I’d never escape from (perhaps a grave would be a better analogy). At some point I just broke. I simply could not go on anymore, and had there not been people who cared about me, who fought for me, who went out of their way to help me, who had not done everything in their power to stop me from killing myself, I would be dead right now. I’m not saying that figuratively, literally had friends not physically stopped me, had they not literally taken me to the hospital, I would not be alive today. That is the point where I ended up. And in order to escape all of this I had to not only quit my job but also break up with my girlfriend, get one of us to move out and figure out how to survive when I not only didn’t really know how, but also wasn’t sure I wanted to. All of that was hell, hell to stay, hell to change.

So in the end through the grace of friends and family (particularly my father) and by some turn of good luck or fate, or generosity and love I didn’t think I deserved and by willing to lose everything I had worked for in order to survive, my dad took me back in and offered me a chance to get my life back on track. I spent the next 2 years in and out of hospitals and intensive therapy programs, desperately trying to learn how to make life worth living. Trying however painfully and difficultly to learn to cope, to move beyond the years of abuse, not just at the hands of my girlfriend, and years of mental slavery, where I among other things did not believe I had worth or should be loved, even by myself. Trying so desperately to find a reason to keep going, and maybe even one day actually be happy. It’s an uphill battle and is not easy, but I feel I have been making significant progress and believe I’m in a better place than I’ve ever been. I’m back in school and working toward a career I actually want, and most importantly feel much more able to cope with life and am finding a way to be happy and to make my life worth living.

And that is why anyone who knows, particularly anyone that was around for any of it, probably feels a little sick at the even fleeting thought of my returning, because the last time I was there I really did end up broken and almost dead, and it can be seen as turning around and heading back into hell.

Now that we’re mostly all on the same page… (and hopefully in the same book)

And so Tuesday I found myself in a position where I could no longer pay for my cell phone, could no longer spend time with friends, could no longer pay for the gas to go to the meetings at the pride center or really anywhere else, could no longer do most of the things that seem to make life worth living, and so in an effort to not give up, and not let myself fall back into isolation, back into a life that didn’t seem worthwhile, I chose to play that last card I had been holding in my back pocket as a last ditch attempt, I got back in touch with someone at the company and asked for a job. I felt sick, not only because there is something very sickening and unnerving about going all in and playing your last card and letting your chips fall where they may, but also because I am well aware of the potential danger for putting myself back in a position that was so detrimental. I do not want to repeat the same mistakes and am afraid I might waste my second chance.  It really felt like I was selling my soul back into slavery. I can’t quite explain all that came with that; it was a horrible feeling, in of itself. And then add to that the resistance and judgments and everything else those I care about are putting on me about it, and it’s been very difficult and frustrating.

I completely understand that all of it comes from love for me and wanting to protect me, and therefore don’t really fault anyone for it. (Honestly on some level I appreciate it being a sign of their love for me) But it hurts so much. The whole thing hurts on a core level. And a lot of that comes from a feeling of being misunderstood and not feeling as if I can really explain it, without somehow inflicting some level of pain, to either or all of us. I feel a deep sense of frustration and lack of support and misunderstanding. I know that many are afraid, many may think I’m being naïve or dangerous, many may be quick to offer ANY alternative so I don’t do this. I’m aware of the risks. I’m aware of what’s at stake. I do not see any alternatives that feel any better. And I have already made my decision, and fully intend on sticking with it until I feel that there is reason to change. What I don’t know that everyone sees or appreciates is this: I feel with my coping skills etc I am able to handle what comes and also feel I will be able to change directions if needed. I have made it clear to the powers that be of my intentions and plan on sticking with them. I am not in the same bind as I was before, where this job is a matter of literal survival, but instead an attempt to maintain a life worth living. Many may see my going back to work there as a self-destructive act, but I am pleading with you to understand that this is not the case. In fact this is the opposite, this is an attempt to fight for a life worth living, an attempt to get what I want, an attempt to do something for myself. At this point I do not need someone to try and talk me out of it, and I don’t even really need everyone to agree with it, I am simply asking, hoping, that, if you can, you all understand and respect my choice. I want your support and your love, your willingness to be there. But please don’t add to my frustration of telling me what I should or should not do, I’m not looking for advice at this point as to whether or not to do it, I’ve already decided. All I ask is if you cannot be happy for me, cannot agree with my decision, don’t spend your energy trying to talk me out of it, don’t stand in my way and bring me down, even if you believe it to be in my best interest. I just want to know you love me, that’s all I really want.  

I know this may seem impossible, I know this may hurt some of you to watch, and believe me I don’t want to hurt anyone. I understand if you cannot watch, I know if this goes horribly wrong I cannot ask you to keep being there. I will respect (although with great sadness) anyone’s desire to abandon ship because they can’t deal with this.  This is part of what weighs on my soul, I am not doing this lightly. But I do feel I have changed quite a bit, believe I can be safe in doing this, and hope you know I am doing this because I think it’s what is best for me at this moment.

And if I choose to stop for whatever reason, if I decide I should not continue, please do not add shame or I told you so, or any of that, just let me know you love me.

And for the record, this all is done out of a genuine attempt of me loving myself. Which is probably the biggest difference of all.

(at some point I want to go into my thoughts in response to thinking of going back as selling myself into slavery and my thoughts now that I’m working there again and how it’s going, but I simply don’t have the time or energy at this moment)

Iris

So as many of you know the song Iris by the goo goo dolls has always spoken to me on a very core level.  It’s one of very few songs that have ever made me cry and one of very few that the lyrics often come to mind. (I’ve included the lyrics at the end for anyone who is unfamiliar or wants a refresher)

For as long as I can remember I have felt misunderstood and unseen by most of the world. I used to try and fit in more, but I don’t think I really can no matter how much I try, and quite honestly have grown to enjoy my differentness, not because I’m different, but because in enjoying being me I happen to enjoy being different. So now I seek to find the few I think will be able to see and understand me as I am without asking that I change.  And so I want to be unnoticed by the world who I don’t think understand because it is only pain that they seem to bring. And with everything always seeming to be falling apart, I just want to know that at least someone really got who I am and loved me before I die.  

I often run into my differences from what the general population seems to think or feel is the norm. Now a days I rarely get attacked in any way for being different, but it does at times make me wonder how much of the way I think and feel do people often get.  I know there have to be people out there that share some of my thoughts and feelings, I know I’m not that original, but many days I can’t help but feel my differentness and the loneliness that sometimes follows. It’s rarely a blow when someone who doesn’t really know me, gets me all wrong or can’t understand the way I feel or think, but it’s hard when someone you think gets you makes you realized they don’t. I now really accept that some people love me; I’m positive that they do. My only remaining worry is that many of them do not really know or understand me, for all that I give people the benefit of the doubt in general, I am beginning to suspect that this is one area I’m not giving some enough credit.  For years I’ve been somewhat secretive, rarely showing all of myself, for fear of the rejection and pain that I believed would follow. Believing I’d be less likely to be rejected and that if I were to be rejected it’d hurt less because they were rejecting the image I put out, not the real me. But I now suspect that while I don’t always share the details of events, I’m pretty forth coming with many of my emotions and thoughts, and therefore my soul is pretty evident to anyone looking or listening. There are people that know me as much as, if not more, than I really let them. I think there are some who see my soul, even if they don’t know everything. And quite honestly it’s impossible to know all of someone and it is forever changing. My biggest fault in this is I don’t always take the time to try and explain my side, mostly because I’ve already decided it’s not worth it, having already decided that no matter how much I try, most won’t get me, and that trying to explain will probably just lead to conflict. To not even try is a disservice to me and those close to me. If I really want someone to know me I have to at least try to share with them at least some of what’s going on in my soul, it’s unfair not to.

This may seem a little unrelated, and I’m not sure of a great transition, but here it is anyway.

So I’ve been struggling with ideas of success and growth and some level change. Mainly how much I feel I have succeeded, grown and change, despite it seeming to being unseen or unappreciated by some, most notably my family and a few friends.

I think one of the hardest things is to see how much a person has changed, particularly when you think you really know them and it’s been gradual, even when the net change is quite dramatic.  I think some of this is the tendency we have as humans to somewhat fight accepting that people change.

I know some do not think people do, or least not really. Maybe there is some truth to that, maybe we can’t just be a different person entirely. But my entire hope for staying alive is that it’s possible to some extent. I need to believe that I can grow and change or there is no point in trying; and if I can, others can. Although this does lead me into trouble sometimes believing so readily that someone can change, I sometimes assume that someone has in a way I hoped, and therefore often leave myself vulnerable to certain people who have hurt me time and time again. I’m not sure I’d change my willingness to believe someone can change, no matter the pain that may follow because I’d rather the pain of finding out I was wrong, than to close my heart to the possibility. I do however now try to work on my ability to cope with the pain, and am trying to get to a point where I accept that just because someone can change doesn’t mean they will. All I can do is change how I react. So I’m trying to move to the place where I am openly willing to accept that someone can change, but not expect or assume that they will (at least not in the way I sometimes hope).

But I really do feel that when we change, the people that have the hardest time accepting it are those closest to us. In part because they think they have us figured out and are therefore paying a little less attention. Also because they at least know how to handle the person we were and are not so sure of what this new person means. And we must not forget the power of denial. It’s much easier to accept that a new person likes the color pink, mainly because we have no information telling us otherwise; but  to accept that an old friend who used to, for years, outwardly despise pink suddenly proclaim their love for it is nearly always quite a bit more difficult because we have past info to the contrary and it means having to change an already held belief. When we have no previous info, it’s just a matter of learning something new, but when something changes, there is often a bunch of questions that follow on top of having to learn the new thing. What caused this change? How long and accurate is this new thought/belief? What does this mean to how I perceive this person and therefore our relationship?  And so on. I think there is also the level of comfort. There is comfort in knowing something and unease when this thing you thought you knew is no longer accurate. It can create a sense of chaos, of uncertainty. If the foundation on which you built something can change or shift, then everything built on it is at risk of collapse; that’s where I think the fear really lies. The less built on something the less at risk, and then the more easily accepted it is.

I’ve been struggling with how little I feel some are seeing my recent growth and changes, but I realize I must be patient. Although it seems like some of it has happened overnight, most of these changes have been gradual and have taken a lot of time and effort to occur, most of which has been internal. So I should not hold it against anyone that may take a little bit of time to see or accept. Also I shouldn’t need others to see the changes in order for me to know they are real or to continue with them. I’m changing and growing for myself and I should not let others, or their inability or unwillingness to see me, stop me from becoming the best I think I can be. So I will keep being me, as that ever evolves, trying to be open and willing to share and let people in, and let the people who can and want to see me , see me when they’re able.

So, on some level, I already have what I hope for :)

(There is another part to this whole thing that I do want to explore, and will in the next post, but this seems to have reached a natural end)

(p.s. it amuses me a little that my favorite song and flower both are named iris)

And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
'Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am

silently screaming

Sometimes when things get too intense

And I am brought into the conflict

Between what I think or feel

And my worry of how you may react

I feel as if I’m a million miles away

In my head

Screaming

Absolutely screaming

Until I’m hoarse and exhausted and have nothing left

Screaming

All the while knowing no sound

Is escaping my lips

I get trapped in this frozen implosion

There is so much power

And energy

Coursing through my soul

But it all feels frozen

And stopped

And unseen

In these moments

I don’t know how to tell you what I need to

Without the destruction I fear will result

Without the pain I think will follow

I want you to know

Really know what’s going on

But I fear what may result

And fear you probably won’t understand anyway

I don’t know how to adequately express

These thoughts, these feelings

In a way that you will understand

And am not sure I can handle

Your reaction

I’m afraid of creating pain

In either of us

All the while aware

That in not being able to express myself

I am still inflicting pain in both of us

I don’t know what to do

Or how to do it

I want to be true to myself no matter what

But have as of yet not learned how

To express that when I get so weighed down

By your wants and demands

That I feel I am screaming without making a sound

the affect/effect of labels

first off that this whole tirade came about because I was thinking about the implications of calling myself a dork

secondly I must note that I've been having trouble deciding between affect (to influence or cause change) and effect (as the result of a change) because on some level both fit, I want to talk about how labels cause a change and the result that occurs because of them. And I realize that one may be more appropriate, but in this moment I cannot figure it out.  (I did however finally learn the difference between lie and lay and understand how the past tense of lie being lay confused me, which then led to not being sure whether to use laid or lain...)

Anyway

So as of late I've been on a mission to fully allow myself to be me. Whatever that may mean, whatever form that may take, however that may change over time, but most importantly learn to love myself whatever form 'myself' may be. And in doing so I have several times run full into the brick wall of a label. I KNOW labels have always had an impact on my life, not always negatively, but still causing some problem, particularly when realizing it doesn't entirely fit, But now I can't seem to ignore it.

I understand why we use labels; it's a way of describing things, a short hand to trying to understand something. In reality all words are labels. They are ways of conveying something without getting to know all of the subtleties of it, which is necessary because quite honestly if we stopped our lives to try and understand all of any one thing we'd live our whole lives trying to learn every millimeter of the first crib we were ever placed in and never seeing beyond that. In honesty, it is not needed to truly know everything beyond labels because you'd never be able to do it, and it doesn't really matter to you. Does it make that big of a difference to know every millimeter of a chair when all you want to know is if you can sit in it? ok maybe you want to know if it's comfy, or if you can recline, perhaps if the color matches the room you want to put it in. All of which further label the chair. so I guess this is the important thing to remember, labels are not the problem as much as believing any one, two or few labels completely describe all that something is and the belief that that something will never change.

Another danger that has become abundantly clear to me is that the labels themselves aren't necessarily detrimental, calling a chair red, in of itself has little effect other than possibly giving more information, but it's the judgments that enviably follows where the danger lies. Ok so the chair is red. All of a sudden several things happen, we get an image of what we consider red (which is not always accurate, I mean I may think fire engine red and you may think more maroon) and then we make some sort of judgment about it. The judgment might be whether we like or dislike that color, or it might even be as benign seeming as color doesn't matter to me, what I want to know is it comfy. All of which then change how we think of the chair.

I think the like and dislike of a label is somewhat obvious in what it means to the thing being labeled, and will get back to it, but for the moment I want to point out the danger in the seemingly benign of deciding that color doesn't matter to you and wondering if it's comfy. The danger lies in being so willing to cast off labels in favor of the ones we care about. Every label is trying to capture a bit of the entirety of something, we should not ignore the fact that it is red, but not define it solely by its redness. I understand it not changing your opinion of it, doesn't make you like it any more or less, but we shouldn't forget that it is part of it. The way that I don't pick my friends based on their hair color, but I accept and see that they do have different colors and that they may change, doesn't change whether I love them, but on some level it would be a disservice to not see it either. It is so damn painful to not be seen as you are. Every label is a little step closer to trying to understand, if we discard some we limit and limit the total descriptors to only a few and we have start then putting things into bigger and bigger groups further away from what they are. When it comes down to it, we are all of the same stuff and all each our own at this moment in time at the same time. Each label can be used to narrow down everything to one thing, but we must never forget that it can change and that there aren't enough labels in the universe to narrow down all that one thing really is. Once you put things into classes it's easy to believe that all in a class are the same, they aren't. They have commonly held things, but even these commonalities may not all be exactly the same. Two people classified as soccer lovers does not mean both love soccer in the same way or for the same reasons, nor does it mean that they have more in common with each other than another person who doesn't love soccer, but loving soccer is part of each of them and should not be discarded because it is part of who they are.

Now the liking and disliking of things, there is so much power in that. The concepts of good and evil, right and wrong, better and worse have made us lose sight of really knowing all of anything. We're told to try and be a certain way because it's the 'right' way and we often feel bad about ourselves when we're not that way. Now I'm not saying I don't believe in right and wrong, I'm not saying we should throw all judgments of any kind out the window because not only do I not think it's impossible but I think there is some danger in that too. But what I am saying is I hope we realize how much these judgments can change us and the world and that they have a lot of power from keeping us away from being ourselves and most importantly loving ourselves.

 I don't really know where to go from this, I'm having a bit of a classical psychological dialectic. On the one hand I believe that everyone should to some degree decide what is right and wrong, what works best for them, what they can live with at the end of the day, And yet on the other hand is the recognition that there needs to be some level of order, some agreed upon rules, in terms of how our action affect others. Everyone should have the right to decide what works for them, but somewhere that right stops in how it may damage another. It's somewhere in between and not a clear line, not a black or white. I try to not hurt people in my pursuit of my own happiness, but sometimes that's impossible. I try to weigh out causing the least amount of pain, but know I have to keep my own pain in mind as well. Also what others may perceive as damage I may not deem my fault or not a flaw in what I’m doing. I don't think my kissing another woman with consent is truly detrimental to anyone (except of course if I'm in a monogamous relationship where we agreed we wouldn't kiss others and I am in fact kissing another, but then it’s a different factor at play) or is really anyone else's concern, particularly people who don't even know us. But at the same time I'm concerned with a pedophile. So I guess, in my best judgment there's a line of ability to consent at play. I'm all for truly consenting adults to do whatever they want with one another. But we do need to be aware of how we impact others and need to keep that in mind when we're deciding whether something is right for us to do.

back to the liking, disliking... We try so hard to fit in, to be part of the group, to be loved, that we sometimes lose sight of ourselves. I've been aware lately of my self-talk. I didn't use to think anything of calling myself a dork or a geek or crazy or silly or any of that, but recently I've noticed how with every label comes some judgment. And some of these judgments don't make me feel great about myself, or somehow feel limiting. I need to be careful with the judgments of myself and how they can detour me from accepting and loving myself. I enjoy learning, I enjoy classically classified as nerdy pursuits, which is fine there is nothing wrong with that, but it can be a disservice to myself to use words that can feel demeaning. And by the same token these words like gay, queer, nerd and on and on can be taken away from the oppressors who originally used them to degrade another and be used by the oppressed as a rallying point, the formation of their own group, can give them power and sense of belonging they so need. So I guess it's important to try and not use labels to degrade ourselves and keep in mind once again, that a single label will never describe all of any one of us.

I also strongly believe that these self judgments should be used as a way of deciding what we may change in the future, such as I didn’t like the way I felt when I yelled at someone who I don’t feel really deserved it, next time I will try a different tactic that might feel better. But my hope is to move away from trying to use these judgments as anything but trying to better navigate my life, I don’t want to waste so much energy belittling myself because I didn’t do what I later realized was not what I’d like to do in the future. I need to accept the past without shame only lessons.

which brings me to my last point at the moment (finally lol this has become much, much longer than anticipated, not good or bad, just unexpected) how hard it can be once you add a label to yourself to change it as well as get people (ourselves included) to realize that this label is but one of many.

For example early on in school I was labeled 'smart' which had all sorts of impacts on me. The majority of the students and my peers seemed to deem this a negative on some level and basically ostracized me on some level, the teachers and my parents seemed to think this was great and tried hard to encourage me, a minority of my peers (often ones labeled similarly) also thought it good and we turned it into a rallying point of our own group. Now part of me was in conflict as to whether to try to fit in with the bigger group or hold tight in my smaller group. Now within the smaller group there were further labels and always some level of worry as to whether I fit in there too. I often felt smart enough to be considered among them but didn't quite fit in many of their worries of grades and success. So strangely I tried to fit in the majority on some level by not doing my homework and showing that I got 'bad' grades like many of them, but it didn't matter I was labeled as smart and I like to learn they never even noticed my grades and I could never be one of 'them'. And yet I didn't quite fit in with my smaller group because I didn't focus on working hard and getting good grades. I was somewhere in no man's land, the majority never really saw me, they saw the label, and my friends while I love them dearly, and they did accept me with open arms and did mostly see me, caused me to still feel on the outside because I was still different (as we all are, I know, but I didn't understand then).

For another example, when I was little I knew I didn't fit the 'norm' or majority as far as things like gender and sexual orientation were concerned (among other things) I further felt like an outsider AND for this society often told me I was wrong and bad. When I was small I felt a lot of pressure to change some of my appearance to fit what I ‘should’ be in terms of being a girl, I grew my hair long because I was tired of being made fun of and also having the question are you a boy or a girl and the inevitable judgments that followed because it wasn’t obvious. As I got older I started thinking of myself as a bi tomboy. I was attracted to boys and girls, and a more masculine acting girl. Later I was pressured heavily by my first very serious girlfriend to proclaim my lesbianism (as we were going to be together forever and since from that moment on I was going to be only with a woman I must be a lesbian, oh how naive I was) and after trying to get me to occasionally wear more girly things (to prove I was a woman dating a woman) accepted that I was simply what she called butch. Then after that relationship ended I went back to being 'bi' and now 'butch'. A few years later I was loosely seeing a trans-guy, suddenly gender became a HUGE factor. For his own sanity he felt the need to make me act as much like what he considered feminine particularly in the bedroom as possible. He couldn't accept how attracted to me he was when he didn't think I acted like a girl and what that meant to his definition of himself. I once again (stupidly) tried to make myself fit his idea of what he wanted, once again denying myself what felt good to me. At some point in going to the Pride Center I realized how hard it was on some level to be 'bi'. No one said anything of note to make me feel different but I didn't feel like part of the majority again. (I know a lot of this has to do with how hard it is in society to be gay and because of it it becomes a rallying point and being bi can be seen as some to not making the choice.) So I kept my interest in men a secret to most, but this felt horrible. And I was also confronted with how many lesbians further label themselves into different degrees of femme and butch and how one treats another changes drastically based on what one thinks the other is. I agree I fit much of the requirements that could give me these labels, so I don't fault anyone for this, but I also realized that bi and woman and butch didn't quite fit me either and that these labels had been something I had been struggling with, particularly with how I felt the need to "fit" them. (I also feel the need at this point, to point out that many of my friends and family thought I was a lesbian and were unaware of my attraction to anyone other than women and unaware of my pull away from the label 'woman', all of which stems from my stand point that if I label myself I limit myself, but by not labeling myself and not being open with all of who I am I left myself open to their label, which given incomplete info weren’t completely accurate.) At some point in a meeting I heard a term that seemed to fit better than any I had heard before, 'pansexual'. I can be attracted to men and to women and to those that fall somewhere in between. I don't really think of gender as binary and don't limit myself based on gender. So this then leads to the gender issue. I consider myself genetically and anatomically female and have absolutely no desire to change that, I don't consider myself a man in a woman's body, but by the same token I don't really feel like I'm classically female in most ways except anatomically. I also don't really feel 'butch' either because I find it somewhat limiting more so in what others perceive as 'butch'. yes I like to wear men’s clothes because they feel more comfortable to me, but I prefer women's underwear. Also just because 99.99999 percent of the time I prefer men’s clothes doesn't mean I don't sometimes want to wear a dress or skirt or high heels and I don't want people to act like it's somehow weird or wrong for me to do so. Just like maybe I might seem somewhat masculine doesn't mean I also don't have classically feminine qualities and doesn't mean that I only date girly girls. So in honesty I'd prefer to not be pigeon holed. I have no real problem if someone describes me as 'butch' as long as people use it more as an additional descriptor among many and accept that I may not fit their definition entirely. Just like I don't mind woman or pansexual or any other label, but don't look at the label and think you know all of someone and don't assume it can't change. It's all able to be fluid, all some shade in a continuum that has the potential to change.

I guess I am most comfortable with the single label of I am me and what that means changes and I'm still trying to figure out all that that means, but it's all that fits.  And I want to spend my life trying to understand.

(and no it never had anything to do with a whale penis anyway)