Neue

In the vast majority of my life, I've lacked a clear sense of identity. I've always maintained a few very distinct personas; I can easily identify the traits of leader-me, addict-me, antisocial-me. But whenever I tried to take in the whole picture, it was as if I was looking through a glass darkly. The distortions of my own self-perceptions and biases made it a Herculean task to approach objectivity in regard to myself, so I stopped trying.

Many times I've subconsciously tried to counteract this by identifying with others or with groups, but that unsettles me to no end. I've never really trusted people as a whole, so tying up some vital part of my personality in their existence seems like too dangerous a gambit, with very little possibility of causing anything positive in the long-term. In my estimation, it's a tack that's saved me from a lot of hassle and stifled as many opportunities for interesting new experiences. C'est la vie.

Today, though, I feel an uncharacteristic urge: to state who I am. So that I may understand it a bit more. Maybe even to introduce a bit of vulnerability to this somewhat sterile, if ultimately fulfilling, record of my human progress.

Okay. Inventory. Here's where I'm at:
(note: after writing this, I realized that each subject went from the most superficial to the most private in descending order. I guess self-disclosure takes a while to work up to. I'm glad that I have this Neue instead of a psychiatrist, though; here, extraneous verbage is free, whereas a shrink would charge me for it.)
I've been thinking a lot about the art of the rice. Japanese imports, general theory, basic automobile information has started to intrigue me to no end. Plus, I'm sad to say, it functions as a rudimentary barometer of masculinity. I really don't like ascribing to conventional gender rules/demands, but at the same time I recognize that they're easily manipulated, convenient factors for low-effort, easily understood social coding. Well, that and I like driving very fast.

I'm a college student now. Huh. I highly enjoy researching medical terminology. It combines three things I love: memorizing complicated-sounding compound words, gaining functional understanding of a useful field, and cultivating a more complete understanding of my body and its workings. My interest in medicine doesn't define me, but at many times it does compel me.

I'm coming to identify more as a gay man. It's a fairly long uphill battle, as I don't have any gay friends or anything much that could be termed a support network. As a mostly closeted homosexual man, gravitating mostly around circles of straight men (with all of the subtle and explicitly oppressive homophobia that comes with) is an easy way to feel that one will never belong, no matter the situation. As I matured, I realized that I could choose to relate with the world by identifying more wholly with others, at the cost of sacrificing some portion of my personality. An unsatisfactory option. I realize now that by cultivating my own identity and sense of belonging, I can learn to relate to people on a much healthier, happier basis, even where this new growth runs counter to mainstream acceptance.

And out of this grew something different. For the duration of my life I've felt . . . dispassionate towards the roles expected of me. As a man, I don't wish to fulfill the heterosexual stereotype. Particularly, I feel minimal attraction to women and little desire to be the dominant partner in a relationship. The masculine image is rubbish; while I prize within myself many of the qualities associated with the male gender-image (strength, constancy of persona), I find the physical trappings and lack of emotional depth unappealing. To put it more simply, I'm considering whether I'd rather live as a woman. I've dreamt about it as long as I can remember, but only recently have I conceded that the possibility is within my reach.

Of course, with such a statement comes a host of questions, none of which I feel like asking right now. Currently, I'm in the process of adopting the female trappings that can be had without anyone questioning my XY phenotype: panties, pantyhose, painted nails, and bras. It feels natural, more natural than I really could have imagined. I feel so free, really; I've fnally taken the first step by allowing myself to question, to explore. Of course, that's only the first step. Right now I'm living with my mother, which places a lot of strain on the expression of the in-between parts of my personality.

The next challenge is the quest for self-sufficiency. Once I'm able to live on my own, the application and exploration of my new meta-identity will be able to enter their terminal stages. I'm excited, like a seasoned world traveler finding out that there's a half of the world she has yet to explore. At the same time, apprehension grasps at me, a vague feeling of being lost. I mean, I'm sure that I have it easier than most; I'm not really unsure of myself, but I'm as yet uncertain of how to proceed with this new knowledge. I'll muddle through, I guess; I always have, I always will. Reconciling the harsh need for independence with my desire to be submissive in a relationship is hard, though. I want to be a good fighter, a great fighter, world-class, but would that be too masculine?

I read once a male-to-female transsexual describing their gender identity as not fully male or female, but containing elements of both. Gender seems to be viewed by most as being like the two poles of a magnet - opposites defined simply by their differences. I'm growing to understand that I'm more of a pastiche. This I can live with.