Ladies, gentlemen, and all those in between,
I have something profoundly awakening to say.
I do not label. I orbit.
Okay, I know what I’d be thinking if I were on the outside reading this. “Alllllright then! Someone’s been knocking back a few too many sneaky quick ones!”
But no, seriously! Read Scarlet’s post on labels and identity. Tell me if that does not make the most absolute PERFECT sense ever in the sensical world. Okay, I’m exaggerating, I know this, but holy shit, wow! Think about this. Labels are stuck on things, generally with some sort of adhesive substance that is harder than hell to get off. Hell, they sell products just to remove such adhesive substances! So basically, once a label’s on something, it’s pretty well on there indefinitely. If you want more labels put on, you have to add them to the labels already there, and soon enough, you’re covered in labels, without a hint of original identity left. But orbits, oh, that’s something entirely different. If a satellite is orbiting around the primary body, it is becoming a part of the primary body’s gravitational pull without being submersed in its atmosphere. It remains its own entity, simply within the influence of the primary body. It can just as easily break free from this orbit and enter into the gravitational pull of an entirely different primary body.
That is what we non-binary people do. This is why we call it a gender galaxy.
God, this is such a huge moment for me. This is my liberation. This IS me standing on top of the smoking rubble that was the unit of pigeonholes. I finally get it.
Another exceedingly valid point raised is this: IF I don’t believe in binary gender, then why do I have the term “bio-female” in my profile? (Although funnily enough, in subsequent profiles and bios that I have written, that term is absent. It didn’t feel right. Now I know why.) And furthermore, why do I identify as “21F Switch” on FetLife? Why is that not “21GQ Switch?” But… how genderqueer am I? I may not be into binary gender/sexuality, but does the tiny little midget butch inside me really legitimize me embracing the genderqueer identity? Or am I genderqueer simply because I acknowledge that there is more to life than male-born-with-a-penis-female-born-with-a-vagina?
Although for what it’s worth, after work I changed into my long, loose denim shorts and stripped down to the black tank I wore underneath my work shirt today, and went to wash the walls in the bathroom in prep for M to paint them. I caught a glimpse of myself in the medicine cabinet mirror, balanced on my tippytoes on a chair, shorts slipping down under my tum, tank top riding up, sweaty hair tendrils flying everywhere as I put sheer force of muscle into scrubbing the walls… and damned if I didn’t think I was hot. So maybe I’m more genderqueer than I think.
And in the end, it only matters to a tiny, minute, fractional extent, because if I do identify as genderqueer, it is not ALL of me. It’s not stuck on me. It’s there, and I am in its orbit. I can break free any time I wish.
MAN that feels good.