National Coming Out Day

Okay, people!  I am really tired and feel fat because I ate 2 whole bags of tortilla chips from yesterday into today (although, I mostly ate that, plus a smaller bag of chips and a small ramen and a cup of fruit and a box of raisins)  I probably just ate the chips because they were there and required no real work to be able to just stick in my mouth.  I also had my first day of Pelvic Floor Physical Therapy and we’re going to work on my pelvic floor and me not going to the bathroom so much.  Ideally, maybe not every hour.  Every 1:10 is our goal for right now.  My problem is that, if I don’t go every hour, I don’t know I have to go unless my bladder yells that I have to go RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.  She said it’s basically retraining my bladder.  I can stop doing PT at any time I want, I’m choosing not to because I want to be ‘effective’.  As a side note, I’m really starting to hate the word ‘effective’.

Another quick thing to add is that I’m not arguing with people as much because I say “I have better things to argue with you about, this is just Drop Bears.”  I also try to take a deep breath (we’re going to work on breathing too, in PT) before I make a retort.  Doesn’t always work, but I try.

So, today was National Coming Out Day here in the states.  I want to talk a bit about that.  Now, you all should know by now that I’m a female bodied non-binary genderfluid gay person.  So, lots of words to basically say that I don’t identify my gender as female, although my bio-sex is female and I’m not trans.  I’m also gay because boobs.  (it’s a bit more complex than that, but bare with me).

It was so wonderful to see all my friends post on Facebook and to see all the lovely feedback and support they all got.  I’m a bit jealous that my dad can’t see me past my gayness, but I’m happy for my friends.  I even posted on Facebook in celebration of today.  What I haven’t posted is all the mixed feelings I have about being gay and identifying as nonbinary.

I grew up in a very conservative Mormon household.  My dad was a racist ass.  He would call Okaasan names like ‘Jap’ and ‘Chink’, among other things that I don’t feel right posting.  I wasn’t allowed to watch the Proud Family (a cartoon) because the main characters were all ethnic.  Gay people were just not spoken of.  I knew I was supposed to like boys so I would think I had crushes on them.  I’d admire the girls from afar.

I don’t think I even knew what gay was until High School.  Then everyone was gay or bi, it seemed.  I even knew a transgender person at one point.  It blew my mind.  Also scared me.  I was genuinly afraid of becoming gay.  Because girls made me feel ways that boys hadn’t.  Sure, I continueally dated boys.  I’ve had sex with many of them.  I had sex with plenty of girls too.  That’s what I was supposed to do.  I tried so hard to be straight.

Finally, I had to accept to myself that I was not feeling the same fire with boys that I did girls.  Even now, I tend to call myself Pansexual instead of Homosexual because I still cling to that hope that, maybe, one day it’ll turn out that this is all a phase and I’m really straight and my dad can love me again and I’ll be able to have kids and all that fun stuff.

With the exception of Ryan Reynolds’ glorious ass, I still find guys to be extremely icky when it comes to being attracted to them.  And Ryan Reynolds’ butt isn’t even a sexual thing for me.  That was just when I realized I was genderfluid and wanted to be more male than I am now.  My ultimate goal is a look of androgyny.  Without the hair.  I like short hair on my head and no hair anywhere else.  Thank you, Ryan Reynolds’ butt.  You glorious ass, you.

I’m not a big fan of me being gay.  I love telling everyone that I’m allergic to nuts and that’s why I’m a lesbian because that’s hilarious.  I don’t like being excluded from things or being told that I’m a sinner and I’m going to hell and all this other stuff.  I don’t like being told straight up that I’m a girl and therefore I’m a lady , or otherwise I’m just a lady dressing in men’s clothes.  I don’t like the stigma that comes with being gay.  I don’t like how people treat me.  I don’t like how I treat myself.

I don’t like not being able to just ask out a girl I like because she’s probably, like, 90% straight and Christian and so I’m left bottling up my feelings about it because I don’t want to ruin another friendship because I can’t keep my fucking mouth shut how pretty or attractive I think someone is.  I don’t like being someone’s experimental lesbian experience.

I don’t like this shit and I don’t like being like this.  I’m not okay with being gay.  I am okay with being me.  I’m okay with laughing with friends and smiling at partners.  I’m okay with falling in love with someone and getting my heart broken.  I’m okay with going to the store and having a meltdown because I can’t decide if I like the men’s Pikachu shirt better than the junior’s.  I’m okay with having friends from all sorts of backgrounds and experiences and hardships and tears and laughs.

I’m okay with reading a book super fast and knowing random maybe-not-so-fun facts and not making eye contact well and having Executive Function Dysfunction and Social Dyslexia.  I’m okay with only liking certain kinds of hugs and touches and sounds and lights.  I’m okay with holding hands with a lover and I’m okay with snuggling alone under my covers.  I’m not okay with being Autistic.  I’m not okay with being gay.

I am okay with being me.

-The Sarcastic Autist

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