“Queer”, has always been a part of my identity.
“Queer” has been a part of me for as long as I’ve been able to self identify, moving from that place of just being into really observing, acknowledging, and finding comfort in a label, instead of just fear or hurt.
“Queer”, has felt to me like a safety blanket from the first time I heard the word and wrapped it around myself as if to keep warm from the cold, and keep the bad words out.
Queer is broad enough to explain my open love, my all encompassing attraction, my strange desires and my unwillingness to fit into the gender binary.
Queer is my both my want, and my being.
Since coming out, some ten years ago, I have spoken openly, honestly, fiercely and passionately about my queerness, and that is something I wear as often as I know how.
Lately, when speaking of my first queer experience, people give me confused glances like I must have said something wrong, or inaccurate.
I speak of the first time I kissed a girl. I was twelve, and I knew right then and there from the pounding of my heart and wetness between my legs that I was feeling something that maybe, I wasn’t suppose to feel. Maybe, I was only supposed to feel like this with boys. Back then I looked like a girl.
Fast-forward 14 years and I’m 26. Today, I’m 2 years into HRT, trying to find the balance between boy and girl of body that matches mind. Today, when I speak of my first experience with queerness to strangers, they see the boy first and rarely understand. It is at this junction where I stand between the choices of a short answer like “I was assigned female at birth, but that’s not how I identify” OR a much longer explanation. The funny thing, is that often times neither will really allow the individual or persons to take in and understand, unless they’ve had experiences with gender-queerness before me.
“We have a tendency to believe that people’s histories begin when we meet them”.
I can’t remember who said this or where I saw this quote, but it stands out to me and often wanders it’s way to the front lobes of my brain.
Like I said, I’m looking for a balance. I don’t identify as “a man” nor do I as a “woman”, but somewhere in between. I believe that gender is both biological and social in construct, and it’s in that social construct that people now often drop me into the “he” category…yes, “he” feels more right than “she”, but this brings me to something else—gender pronouns. I am not a man, nor am I trying to be one. You should know that my gender pronoun is not a preference, it just –is-. I use “they/them/their” pronouns intentionally, because to me, those are the pronouns that best encompass who I am and my lived experiences.
“WHAT! There’s more than just girls/boys & women/men??” Yes. People are starting to understand gender as more than something we are assigned at birth, and recognize that there are more than 2 options.
When we talk pronouns, we’re talking basic levels of respecting an individual’s right to self identify. It’s not about you, or what you might consider to be proper grammar, language is forever evolving, as are the people who use it. Folks who use pronouns other than “he/him/his” or “she/her/hers” [example] are doing the best they can to express themselves in a world where language dictates how we identify one another and ourselves. Use of other personal pronouns is a way to better get to know someone, and respect who they say they are.
My Queerness comes in so many colours, and I’m sure it will have many evolutions throughout my lifetime.
Gender defines us [as does race, ability, size, class and countless other things]. By saying things like, “I don’t see gender”, “I don’t see race”…we’re erasing the differences that make us beautiful.
When I tell you about my Queerness, I’m saying “See me, see my difference, love me for all of it”. If I tell you that I use “they/them/their” pronouns, it’s because I care enough to tell you who I am. Hear me, and listen, not just to me but to anyone who cares enough to share with you who they are.
GavinKade 