I am a woman. I have never had doubts that I was female… or have I? There is a period in my life I do not talk about often, when I wanted to be a boy. I tried to cut off my breasts, I shaved my head, I desperately wanted to stop being female. I do identify as a female but, it was terrifying because the world hates women. This was one of the steps that lead me to know that persons who are born transgendered, inter-gender, or even without a gender (links to Norrie and Clair Lewis) are born that way.

This period helped me to deal with my struggle when I realized I am bisexual. I actually have a stronger preference for women than men. I often joke that this is because women taste better, to lighten the mood if I am outed. I live mostly in the closet, because my community is in accessible and I am fearful. Also, because of my mother’s reaction the first time I told her. She told me I was instantly a whore. I was slut shamed, I was told I was a liar, and I went with it because I had no recourse.

I admire anyone who lives with their sexual identity and gender identity in the open when it does not match up with the lie of Gender Binary. I have many friends who are between the two pegs that privilege reigns with in. I admire the strenght it takes just to be yourself when there is little to no protection for you in this world and your gender or lack there of makes you a target. That must be beyond terrifying.

I just did my census form, and there were only two check boxes. I secretly hope that those who do not identify as female or male make their own box. This of course may cause issues later but, the fact is, if you don’t fit in the little box then make your own!

This post is in honor of the 11th Annual Transgendered Remembrance day. This link is to a blog called Deeply Problematic, a blog with a series of other links about today and this issue and this link is to the memorial.

I find it striking how many of our brothers and sisters did not have a photo. Something about that strikes me. The lack of photo mirrors a lack of acceptance.

I light a candle and the candle is for each loss we know of, and the many we do not. I light a candle so that no one forgets your murder.


  1. I’m not really out either. I don’t tell most people that I’m bi – too many people would believe that that means that I want to have sex with anyone and everyone, when the truth is that I am very happily monogamous. It’s easier, in a way, to only tell people that you already know will be accepting.

    I also had a period when I wanted to be a boy. I’ve been mistaken for a boy so many times in my life, and those were usually times when I was treated just a little bit better. But after 30 years, I’ve gotten used to it, and there are certain things that I really like about being a woman that, unfortunately, other genders don’t get.

  2. Sometimes I wonder if my acceptance of female is merely because I cannot have any surgery, nor can I look like anything but because my breasts are larger than average and I have the “perfect” shape.

    I spend the rest of the time wondering if my gender issues (not sure I like that word for it but it’s the only one I have) came from the sexual abuse or if I am conflating things.

    My mother did say I just wanted every sex partner in the world. I am not positively monogamous but I lean towards it because it’s safer. It is far too dangerous to be out in any non typical way in my area. Hate crimes happen daily, it’s so normal it isn’t on the news and no one talks about it… this is the bad type of normal. I don’t want to be another statistic damn it!

  3. Yes, you might have simply disassociated from your own body in order to survive. Lots of women who HAVEN’T gone through the horrific things that you have disassociate because that’s what society tells them to do… We put such an absurd amount of emphasis on the visual, and bodies are supposedly bad and icky and wrong… And I’ve talked to so many women who felt like they were a separate being than their bodies or the category that it represents – but weren’t transgender – that I can’t help believing that it is a peculiar disorder of the modern American woman. Add severe abuse on top of that and you are bound to feel like something is wrong.

    Did you ever feel comfortable in your body? I know you’ve mentioned dancing before, and how much you loved it. I don’t know if trans people experience those moments of pure pleasure in their physical self (I imagine they must) but I do know that holding onto and treasuring those moments has helped me to come to grips with and learn to love my body, whether that has anything to do with my sex/gender or not.

    Yeah, even in the most progressive communities, it can be dangerous to be out. I used to live in one of the gayest parts of one of the most progressive cities in America and I still got mistreated sometimes when I told people that I thought would understand. Even worse, I heard about gay-bashings and trans-bashings there all the time; sadly, having such a relatively big community in a small area also meant that it was an easy target for those who wanted to harm someone they considered inferior. No one is really safe anywhere if they are out…

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