For a while now, I had been procrastinating thinking about how I felt about certain things; how uncomfortable I feel when people refer to periods as something that is a "cis woman" thing, how uncomfortable I feel when my friends send me posts or made comments which were directed at or about solely cis women, how disturbed I feel when people call me a "woman" or a "lady", the feeling of discomfort and disgust in my throat and tummy when people say things such as, "perks of being a (cis) woman", how I always felt that sick feeling when people gendered things, as if it were only for "cis females".
At first, I thought it was because of how cisnormative it was, how gendered - but then I realised that I've been feeling these feelings since I was small, since I was a child. I had absolutely no idea about the lgbtq+ community back then, I had no idea what "gender roles and norms" were, I wasn't even aware of what feminism meant- so it surely wasn't because of that. Then I forced myself to believe that I was in the process of getting over my internalised misogyny. After a lot of introspection, I realised it wasn't that either. With the help of a few of my friends, I could finally admit that it was because I wasn't a "cis female", it was because I was a demigirl (/an agender girl) - to myself and to them.
Figuring out my gender identity wasn't easy, it wasn't the same as figuring out my sexual orientation. There were days when I would beat myself up - calling myself a fake person, a wannabe. I didn't think that my feelings were valid because I didn't actually mind my body - I didn't have dysphoria; little did I know, back then, that body dysphoria wasn't the only type of dysphoria that existed, and moreover, I didn't have to experience dysphoria to be nonbinary.
I invalidated my own feelings, I refused to acknowledge them, I was afraid of talking to others about it because I didn't want them to confirm my doubts, my insecurities - so I shoved my feelings into a box and hid them away.
But now, after a lot of introspection and a lot of external validation, I finally feel secure with my gender. I am an agender girl, which means, though I do not mind the label 'girl', I do not identify with the meaning people have assigned to it; I do not identify myself as any gender, I am genderless. My pronouns are still she/her. I comparatively feel more "girl" than "agender" - when it comes to the label - but that doesn't make my identity any less valid, that doesn't make *me* any less valid.
My identity is not an oxymoron, my identity is not a buzzword which I find interesting, my identity is who I am, and who I am is not up to you to judge, who I am is up to me to own and accept.
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If someone asked me to explain my gender to them - eventhough I know I don't owe anyone any explanations - it would be somewhat like this :
Imagine you were born in a world with no labels, no categories. You don't know what gender is, you don't know what it means to be a girl or a boy or neither or either or both. Imagine you were a person with XX chromosomes, a uterus, a vagina and boobs and that was it. You don't know you have a gender, you don't know your parts and your chromosomes have a sex - you just know you have certain characteristics and that's it. Suddenly, a person from another world classifies you as a girl and you're okay with that, it's a simple classification, doesn't hurt anyone - but then they assign that label an identity, you. You are identified as that label, and on top of that more gendered labels are identified with you. But that's not you, you don't feel that way. You don't feel like boobs are a "female" thing, boobs are just boobs, when it's forcefully called "female parts", you feel sick, you feel like shuddering and curling into yourself. When people say that boobs are an advantage of being a girl, your entire body shakes with disgust, when they add meaning to the label "girl", you feel shaken up, you feel revolted.
But weirdly enough, until they assigned a meaning to the label "girl", it was just an empty word, and you were okay with that.
That is how being an agender girl feels like.
//
I'm sad.
I think that one of the worst things a family member could ask a child going to therapy is if they're "honest with their therapist" - not because they genuinely want them to be honest with their therapist, but because they don't want a stranger to judge what the child could possibly be telling them about their family or other issues. In other words : "are you truthful with your therapist?" = "are you sure you're not telling him (my therapist is a cis man, so) biased things which put you in a positive light and us in a negative light, thereby manipulating him to say things that are convenient for you, and choose your side whatever you tell him?"; which thereby results in my mind going -" ohmy gosh, what if you've tricked your therapist into thinking you're a/an good/okay person, when you're a burden and you're ungrateful and a bad child and you trouble your family, what if you tricked him into thinking that you deserve his kind words when you actually don't and what if you actually are painting everyone else in a bad light and yourself as a victim-", because my self esteem is even lower than my sense of humor. so yeah, fuck that shit.
My therapist suggested that I draw lines on my thigh with red sketch pen whenever I feel like self harming, and yesterday I tried that and it worked yayyy (only after I self harmed a bit and then remembered it tho)
I wanna bitch slap my roommate
reasons to live-
The last few seasons of Grey's Anatomy
The stack of unread books at home
Yet to write love letters to all my best friends
Diana and Kuttus and kitties
Haven't got enough of eating certain food items
People in my life
Boating
Bianelle
Louis releasing COACOAC and Change
Reading COAGDP again
.
I feel like there's no point to anything. The only thing I do everyday, the entire day, is stay on my phone or my laptop or sleep or eat, nothing else. I feel so drained and demotivated and just so empty.
something I'm proud of myself for : I have learned to ask for the things I need. A person to sit with when I study. Words of support when I'm freaking out over public speaking. Words of reassurance when I feel alone. Without shame, without guilt, without self criticism. and that's something.
cw : mention of death/s*icidal ideation; original content, based on prompt idea by @writingprompts365
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Sunshine meant people; sunshine meant people, chatter, and moving about, forced to be a functional human being who had to survive in proper society. They hated how looking after their beloved pet had been turned into a chore by their family, how helping around seemed more like being ordered around; the injustice of never having a moment of peace and quiet, never having a moment of respite to themselves, the dread of having to be extraverted when the only thing they wanted to do was learn and write and read and goddamnit- be alone. But moonlight. Moonlight meant everything holy, precious, and hopeful. It meant dancing in the living room, eating cold chicken, listening to music on full blast, infinite creativity. Alas, nights were too short to fit oneโs entire life into. Sleep was for the strong โ for the ones who could manage time and socialization, for those who could live with people, for those who didnโt fall apart when denied solace in their own arms. They were weak, they did not sleep; if days were for existing, and nights were for living, had they not dreamed of dying for far too long to deserve to want to live? ย
When I think about sex psychology, I get so excited and ajsjskskwkle and I feel like ranting because it's SUCH an intriguing subject and I'm probably gonna specialise in it later on sometime
23 \\ she/her // pan oriented aroace CONTENT WARNING FOR LIKE 89.8% OF MY POSTS
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