Floundering Around in My Identity; Privilege and Marginalization III

I am not even sure where to start here honestly. 

I have known my sexuality and gender identity were out of the box since before I knew what sexuality or gender identity was. 

As a child I was constantly rebuked and shamed for being to masculine, for not having crushes on boys, for being to emotionally needy with my platonic friends. 

Censure for my differences started long before I had the language to say that I was non-binary trans masculine, queer/bi/pan, neuroqueer, nebularomantic/greyromantic, and demisexual.*

Most if not all my relationships both romantic and platonic have been negatively impacted by these differences in experience and identity. My emotional needs have until recently always been dismissed as incorrect or impossible, or over looked entirely without effective language to communicate how differently I function emotionally, than most people…which ultimately lead to both parties feeling heartbroken and unfulfilled.

I have spent a life time, being mocked, dismissed, erased, invisible, threatened, and misunderstood. 

Currently I live in a state where it is both (more or less) legal and socially acceptable to discriminate against me because I am obviously and undeniably not a cisgender heterosexual, even if most cis het folks aren’t sure what I am, they are sure about what I am not…and what I am not and have never been, is one of them. A reoccurring theme in my life time. 

Though I can legally marry my nesting partner, I can not be legally recognized as a nonbinary person. To be legally recognized as a masculine person, I would probably have to lie about my experience as a trans person and fake a “trapped in the wrong body narrative” to please medical cisgender gate keepers. I’d also have to be able to afford it…and non-binary top surgery? Yeah it happens but would I be able to afford it? To travel to a doctor who would do such for me? Who would work hard to keep my nipple sensation? Maybe…maybe in a world of uncertainty when you are  struggling to survive can be practically impossible. 

But without top surgery, being to poor and to unwell to pursue even low dose T, to unwell to bind, I am perpetually non-existent, a myth caught in an invisibility hole. My nesting relationship is dismissed as heterosexual. I am often wildly misunderstood by cis-het culture and not taken seriously by much of the cis normative lesbian and gay communities or even the binary trans communities. 

I feel by and large communityless, at sea in a universe of possibilities. 

I speak loudly in hopes that others who share my burdens may not have to struggle quite so much, the internet, friends, family, no one and no where is safe from microaggressions. This is in many ways no different than what any other marginalized group of people experiences. Injury via a constant onslaught of small but deep wounds. 

I’ve developed panic reactions to certain transphobic arguments. I sweat and fret instantly, my day, or at least the next few hours spent trying not to panic. Trying to convince myself that I am a real person, worthy of full humanity, worthy of dignity. 

Certain aspects of my identity are so new to the broader community as a concept that many people do not believe it is a real thing. Which can often lead to different sorts dismissal, a different sort of lack of space. 

These are a few small parts of how My queer identity impacts the way I move through this world. I will attempt to tie it all together in one more piece, as soon as I am able. 

*oppression for me as a white person who is read as female, is much different than it would be and is for queer, trans (women especially), and femmes of color. No matter which marginalized identities we white people hold, intersectionality tells us that our multiply marginalized siblings of color are more at risk of both systemic and physical violence.

You can read part one and two of this series here. 


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