Creating my own Gender

I feel like everytime I update this blog, I have a new Identity. So I guess it should be no surprise that once again, it's changed. I guess in many ways I still identify as genderqueer, or neither-sexed, but I feel like I'm moving away from that and feeling more trans lately. It's definitly an evolving, complicated, and sometimes confusing process toward ultimately identifying as male.

I am Trans. I can say it out loud with out freaking out now. I'm also moving forward toward transitioning, while still struggling with staying who I actually am, and maintaining a queer identity. I bind my chest everyday now, have began to change my name and have asked people to call me Kyle and use male pronouns with me, and so far it's not nearly as scary as I thought. My friends have been amazing so far and have agreed to use my preferred name.

So now what? Research. Lots of research. I found an alternate method to transition without Testosterone injections that I'm interested in trying, called Natural Transitioning (NT) that seems like a good fit for me.

The main idea behind NT is that EVERYONE (females included!) produce testosterone, and there are ways to increase the amount produced through diet, exercise and suplements. I'ts basic body building.

Diet- Lots of foods will help to increase testosterone, so step one is to modify my diet to include lots of these foods. Garlic, green leafy vegetables, avocado, cabbage, white meat chicken and turkey, salt water fish, eggs, whole grains like oatmeal and quinoa. Also, the higher your body fat percentage is the more estrogen is produced, so I'm trying to eat as low fat as possible, and also trying to cut out refined sugars so no more soda, white bread, and white rice.

Weight training- As I mentioned earlier, higher body fat = increased estrogen production, so upping the cardio and adding in some more weight training excercises to build more muscle mass. Because men typically have broader shoulders and more squared torso's than women, gaining muscle in the upper arms, shoulders and chest, while also workig the ab muscles (especially sides... it that the obliques?) will give a more typical male appearance in terms of curves and body shape.

Supplements- This is the big one. So I've got the diet that focuses on testosterone increases foods and lowers body fat, I'm getting into a workout routine to work my upper body more, but that will only get me so far. Supplements are what really makes the big difference.
-ZMA- zinc, magnesium and b-6 in precise amounts that will work together to increase testosterone.
-Tribulus Terrestris- stimulates the anterior pituitary to produce LH (luteinizing hormone) which is responsible for "telling" your body to produce testosterone.
-DHEA- stimulate hair growth and deepens voice. Side effects can include increased temper and acne among other fun things, but so do the Testosterone injections that most trans guys use.
Fish oil- among other benefits, works as a mood stablilizer to help controll mood swings caused by increased Testoserone levels, and helps you focus your ADD.
Milk thistle- prevents and repairs liver damage, and is very important when taking supplements as many of them are processed in the liver.

So thats my plan. From what I have read, the results are not nearly as quick or "good" as injections, but I'm ok with that. I don't feel the need to completely pass all the time and be as masculine as possible in order to identify as male. I don't need to erase all traces of my female past to feel comfortable with myself and become who I feel I truly am. I feel like this process will be right for my queer identity, to make me appear even more androgenous than I am now, and for now thats enough.

Another reason why I like this plan over T injections... Typically injections are once every 2-4 weeks. This means that you get a huge boost of testosterone into your system right when you get the shot, then it slowly drops over the next couple weeks to a low point and then next shot BAM! huge boost again. That kind of hormonal roller coaster can really mess with your mood. NT however is a very slow daily increase. Its consistant, steady resulting in fewer mood swings and dips in T levels.

quick clarification...

I feel like I need to clarify quicky that some of the stuff in my last couple posts has just been hypothetical thoughts, and a lot of random stream of consciousness stuff. Not exactly what I believe is actually currently the situation, although I'm enjoying what ever friends/dating whatever you want to call it is going on. This is kinda cryptic... sorry, most people should just ignore this. (i don't even know who reads this anyway)


On a completely different topic.... Bontrager tubes are currently at the top of my "things that suck" list. Was on my way home from work today, when I realized my back tire felt a little low, so I pull over to pump it up a little. So I have my little complact piece of shit pump, and I get it almost full, when all of a sudden the valve stem snaps in half. What the fuck??!?! Im not THAT strong. So im stuck about 6 miles from home, with a flat tire, and no other tube. Had a patch kit, but that was totally useless. So I start walking, called Dan to see if he could come pick me up, and start digging for money to get on the train. Had $1.30, train is $2.25. Fuck.

Hit Chicago Ave, and OMG! the currency exchange! The fact that I picked up my pay check today had completely slipped my mind till I saw it. Problem solved, cashed my check, and took the train home. Disaster averted.

Some late night rambling

Lots of things going on right now. I'm done with school for the semester. My job is going well, and I'll probably be getting more money soon. I'm dating a super cute, awesome artist beer drinking girl, and I'm kinda nervous about our date tomorrow night. First official date maybe? I'm going to Vermont next week, I leave on Sunday afternoon. My birthday is next tuesday and I'm going to be 25.

On the surface, my life kinda rocks right now. I appear to have direction in my life. I guess I'm happy. Still kinda off though, and still lots of things that are wrong. Somehow I'm still wrong.

Lets start with Joanna. (What is it about the name Joanna..... na) Shes great. She's super cute, and kinda girly but a little punk too. Artist, works with kids. We talked about photography and she wants to teach me some stuff. Photography adventures! Yay! But at the same time, she is a lesbian, and she is attracted to me as a woman... not some gender fuck up of a tranny boi who cringes a little at his female pronouns, even though its not entirely wrong.

I dont know if calling it disphoria is correct, but its been fucking with me lately. Specifically how does my gender, or possibly lack of a gender fit in to having a girlfriend? What does that make me to her? Am I her girlfriend? Boyfriend? Boifriend? Parner? lover? And what do I even want to be? Ideally I would love to talk to her about it, and explain from the beginning that I am genderqueer but more to the male side so possibly transgendered as well. I want to be open to her about binding my chest, how I like to be referred to with male pronouns at times. But I'm afraid to start that conversation. The people who know have been my chosen family for years, who I always have tons of support from. With Andrew and Newton, I'm a guy, he, one of the dudes. But with Joanna, I'm a butch lesbian. We did meet origionally at Formerly Known As, the biggest queer and trans party in the city. I passed as a pre-t, pre-op transman and no one questioned it.

Maybe im overthinking this too much. She approached me while I was clearly binding and looked like a teenage boy, so maybe she knows, or guessed it, or doesn't give a fuck. I guess I'll just play it by ear and see where the conversation goes.

I'm rambling a lot here.... um. Going home next week. I'm excited about it, but a little freaked out too. It's always weird to go back to my moms house. I'ts like Im a guest there now, sleeping on the couch, while my mom gets all excited to spend time with me and go shopping, and actually cooks things that didn't come frozen. I havn't figured out how I'm going to deal with binding. Or possibly not deal with it. She has no idea about it, and I'm not sure I wan't to have that conversation right now. Although it would kind of be a continuation of a conversation from last year, when we sat in the hotel bar drinking jack and cokes after mikes wedding. The genderqueer thing breifly came up, but it was breif, and whiskey had been involved, so I don't really consider it comming out. At least not comming out as my current gender expression.

I'm hoping to make a new binder soon, probably tomorrow so depending on how that works out i'll probably bind when I'm home, but the ace bandage is too much of a hassle without having a bedroom.

This has gotten too long........ so goodnight.

A little bit of gender rambling before work

So... I guess the blog is back and heading in a new direction of sorts. Still me and my story for the most part though.

I've come to the conclusion that for me, work is the most gender restricting, uncomfortable place in some ways. Despite being gender neutral in many ways, the uniforms completely enforce the binary of gender, and I feel like I'm being assigned the "correct" side to fit into. Basic work uniform- Black pants, white collared shirt, Black hat, black Apron. Thats cool. I can wear mens clothes to work and it's considered conforming to the uniform. That works for me. But he'res the kicker. Men wear ties. Everything about the dresscode is identicle except that Men wear ties, and women do not. So what does this mean for me? Most days a lot of quiet turmoil as I deal with being constantly percieved and referred to as female, and hearing the words her, and she, and miss, and sometimes sweetie or hun from the geriatric crew, all referring to me. I't gets pretty grating after 8 hours.

And I don't know what to do about it. Are they wrong to refer to me with female pronouns? Well, no... not totally wrong, but not right either. So.... He. HIm. Sir? Maybe that would be better. But would it be right? Not entirely, but again not totally wrong.

I gotta run to work. I'm sure I'll have more to post later.

FKA and liking me

I had an awesome couple days recently, but it sucked at the same time. Work is work, it kinda sucks, but its good to be off unemployment, and actually having spending money beyond rent and ramen for almost 5 months. I can actually save money now, and paying tuition, and a biking vacation actually seems possible now.

This semester is almost over. My business plan has been turned in, even though we didn't manage to completely finish it. We had a lot of problems getting together to work on it around everyones class and work schedules. No surprise that it turned into a last minute cram session, complete with compatability issues between my laptop with open office, and the Vista computers at school (that we had to print through) with Microshit word. I have a take home final to finish by thursday, an in class exam on monday night, 2 finals on thursday, and a presentation on thursday, and I'm done. Plus working 30 hours a week. I don't expect to sleep much in the next week.

Finally onto the real topic of this post... FKA and liking me. I've randomly been thinking a lot in the past week about my gender and sexuality. In the past 6 years or so I've come out several times. I've changed my mind between Bisexual and a lesbian, and again to queer after dating an FTM transexual. I've questioned gender a lot too. I was raised steryotipically feminine, including ballet lessons, figure skating, and girl scouts. I dated guys because it was expected of me, and I didn't question it.

Thats all changed though. i finally acknowledged my attraction to women, I came out, I rejected the ideas of "how women are supposed to look and behave", and began to identify as queer, androgenous, and pansexual. So anyway, I've been thinking more about gender and shit, and after tonights amazing experience, I think I've found my self. at least for now.

I have bound my chest on occasion, treating it as a social experience, observing peoples reactions, and judging how I felt about it. I realized that it felt right to me, and that I feel the most comfortable in the grey area. A couple days ago I decided to bind full time, and for the past couple days I have honestly felt comfortable with myslef and my appearance.

Went out to FKA (Formerly Known As) at Big Chicks tonight, with my tits strapped down, and hair gelled up, and fit right in with the transmen, and all the self consious-ness I had felt going out before was gone. I got checked out by gay men and femme chicks, was told several times how cute girls thought I was. If it wasn't for work in the morning, I could have easily hooked up tonight. I did get a hot make out session with a super cute girl tonight though, so still a win.

Newton, Andrew and Tito were amazing tonight too. Also commenting on how I'm a cute boy, and randomly referring to me as he. Newton said that he noticed i seemed more comfortable tonight than he has seen me in a long time. I feel like I;m kinda rambling here, so I'll try to get to some kinda conclusion here...

I'm a biologically female, genderqueer boi. I'm stuck in the middle between male and female, without feeling like either is correct. I'm me.

I suck at life aparently

I think i take the internet way too seriously. Its fucked up. I was all motivated to work on my website, have a theme in mind, started making some images, and it sucks. What the fuck am I thinking.

I finally have something good going for me, a really good opportunity to get an internship designing a website that could lead to a real job, and I feel like I'm already fucking it all up. My work is all over the place. I have no real style to it at all.

Makes sense that someone would think its too cartoony, and that I wouldn't be taken seriously.

Majorly epic massive failure.

Nightcrawler

There's something about walking home in the middle of the night thats oddly peaceful. Chicago beween 2 and 4 AM is like an entirely different place. People and busses are scarce, shops are closed up, and everything is quiet. Is almost shocking to encounter another person.

Last night, as I half stumbled up Pulaski Rd, in search of the blue line el, I was embarking on a new adventure when the night should have been ending. I had said goodnight to all the metal punks, and the crusties, and the goons as I slammed back a last PBR tall boy, my ears still ringing from Disrobe and Caustic Christ. I was craving a burrito.

As I walked, I grew more and more hungry. I imagined that every lit store front and neon sign was a taqueria, and each time was disappointed by a closed auto parts shop, or tattoo shop, and eventually a place called "Best Burrito", which was also closed. I eventually found the El stop at Irving Park, about 2 miles from Metal Shaker where I had started. I also found a Shell/ subway/ Dunkin donuts mega gas station, and gave up on my burrito craving for a bag of Doritos and some M&M's.

2:10 am, and I'm getting on the blue line with the sleeping homeless. I'm trying to drop the feeling of invading someones bedroom as I listen to Rancid on my iPod and eat my Dorito's. We pull into Western, and the 3rd leg of my adventure is ready to begin. I find my way down the stairs, through the turnstile, and out of the station to the bus stop, just in time to see the bus pulling away.

2:25 am, and there won't be another bus for about 30 min. Rancid ends, and I switch to the Ting-Tings to pass the time. I sit at North and Western, fighting to stay awake as I watch the people and traffic go by. I start to wonder why I had decided not to ride my bike tonight. I try not to think about how I could have been home already.

I finally get on the bus just before 3am. I get off at Cermak, and begin walking again. 1 mile to go. 1 mile till bed. 10 more minutes of walking, and my early morning public transportation adventure is over, at least till next weekend.

Wallflower blossoming

Sam wants to change the world. First though, she needs to figure out how. Because changing the world is a big goal, and there are too many things that need to be fixed. She's young, aggressive, and slowly taking over my world.

I started the night leaning against the wall, clutching my beer. Watching the scene unfold.
"Are you ok? You look positively pissed off right now."
That was Leah. Playing the roll of hostess, making it her duty to see that everyone was having a good time..
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." I assured her, "just don't know anyone here."
"Ok, well, come dance with us."
"I will eventually", I said, holding up my beer.

The truth is, I'm really a wallflower. I stand back, observe, let people come to me. And usually it works. Eventually someone will come and break through my imaginary wall, and drag me away from the safety zone I've created, and pull me out into the world again. That's were Sam comes in.

Eventually the DJ put on a good song, and I slowly made my way onto the dance floor. Suddenly Sam is standing in front of me, asking if I want to dance. I'm not sure at first. I was barely comfortable away from the wall, when human interaction, in the form of a cute girl who's practically falling on me, is invading my comfort bubble. Wasn't that what I came for though?

I say yes, and its awkward. Shes moving against me to her own rhythm, and I struggle to find her beat. All too soon, another question comes out of her mouth. "Do you want to make out?"
"No" I say, too quickly.
She's clearly drunk, and I'm only half way through my first beer. I don't want to take advantage of her. She's ok with it though, and says to let her know when I'm ready.

We keep dancing and attempt to talk over the music.
"So what's your story?" She asks, and I'm not entirely sure what she means.

I have too many to tell, and most of them would scare a lot of people away. I'm silent, thinking about what to share. That I'm unemployed and can barely afford rent and food, let alone a social life? My borderline personality disorder and how many times I've tried to kill myslef? The long list of drugs and addiction, and self mutilation? That I've lived in 3 states in the past 5 years and have started over each time?
"What do you want to know about?" I finally ask.
"Well, are you gay? Genderqueer? Whats your story?" she asks again.

The question makes sense now, and for a second I see myself as the rest of the world probably does. She can't quite figure me out, and doesn't want to assume wrong.

I don't think she realizes how compicated that question really is though. She has no idea how many times I've tried to figure it out for my self with out comming up with a real answer.

"Genderqueer, I guess. Kinda whatever." It's not really an answer, because I don't know the answer. How do you explain being female, with an androgenous apearance, with a non gender specific orientation when it comes to sexual attraction, while at the same time purposly blurring the line between genders? It can turn a seemingly simple question into a long intense conversation.

Flash forward three drinks, and I'm sitting in a chair in the corner. I'm balancing a drink in one hand, running my fingers through Sam's hair as she grinds against my thigh between kisses. I'm having one of those "Is this really my life?" moments. She had been persistant, waiting for me to finish each drink and asking if I was ready yet. Eventually I caved. I drank myself to her level, while she kept telling me how cute I was, and the feeling that I would be taking advantage faded.

After making out against the wall, in the middle of the dance floor, in line for the bathroom, against another wall, and finally the wobbly folding chair, I needed a cigarette. The one habit that's still around. I't seems insane that blow, popping pills and making myself bleed would be the easy ones to quit, especially considering my past as a Varsity Athlete in 3 sports. We found a bench on the fire escape, and tangled together for warmth while we talked.

That was when she said she want's to change the world. We talked about school, and how she finds it hot that I'm a geek. And we talked about fucking guys, and how sometimes its easier, till you wake up sober and just want to get the fuck out and pretend it never happened. She imagines a world where everyone is gay, and theres no guessing game in deciding if you can hit on a cute girl on the train. We agreed that people need to relax, and let everyone else be, and that being queer shouldn't be a big deal anymore. She stopped being the agressive drunk girl that I found intimidating, and I started to fall for her.

We decided at that point that It was time to go home, separately. I said I had to pee, then I would wait for a cab with her before walking to the bus, and we would get phone numbers while we waited.

I was standing in line, talking to a boy in a dress, when Leah showed up again. She said she had seen me with Sam, and that it was good to know. I smiled, and she stepped closer.
"It's good to know..." she said again, looking up at me, taunting almost.
And I kissed her. It was better with Leah, softer. I think I had wanted to kiss her all night, and she had been mixing strong drinks for me, but Sam had gotten to me first. "I'll see you on the dance floor" she said, walking away.

I decided to stay at that point, figuring I could see Sam to a Cab and go back to the party. Sam was gone though. And Leah was making out with someone else. I couldn't be upset though, since it was the same someone else it had been the whole time I was with Sam.

That was when the cops showed up. The party came to a halt as the under 21 crowd grabbed coats and ran for the back door. I hung back, waiting to see if the party was really over. I watched, hoping they would leave and the party would pick up again. It wasn't the case this time though.

I grabbed my coat, walked past the mess of cops out the door (lying on my way past when I was asked if they charged a cover) and looked for Sam again. She was really gone.

Once again I was the wallflower, walking home alone, wishing things had ended differently.

another year, more failure

So it's 2009. I've been in Chicago for 2 years now, and I'm starting over again. It seems like every time I think I have found the lowest point in my life, the ground sinks again. And every time it gets a little harder to climb back out.

I lost my job in the middle of November, just before Thanksgiving, and I'm still unemployed. I guess I should consider myself lucky in some ways, because things are changing for the better, but it doesn't really feel that way. I'm going back to school, and my mom is covering my tuition, but having better job opportunities in the future doesn't fix the now. I'm getting unemployment benefits, but being able to pay rent doesn't keep me fed or pay for books. I have a roof over my head and a warm bed to sleep in, but having the basics for survival doesn't make life feel worthwhile.

So I'm struggling everyday to make it through. Once again, I'm living on a diet of Ramen, bread and peanut butter and feeling guilty for spending more than $15 a week on food. Somehow cigarettes are a more important expense. And most importantly I'm trying to find a job. Not an easy task when getting out of bed is the hardest part of the day. It seems easier to just hide under the blankets all day than to go out into the world and be rejected again and again.

Soon some of that will change though. I will have school to get me out of bed, at least it will 3 days a week. And a job will happen. It has to. Unemployment benefits only last for so long.