This Thing Called Feeling

I should have never opened up my heart…
I should have never let this thing called feeling start.
But wait, let me go back to the beginning…
To before I ever let this new song start singing.

It didn’t take long for me to see that I wasn’t fitting in
To what our society’s gender norms have always been.
A small girl who didn’t seem to fit into the world
Of dresses, makeup, and long flowing curls…

I was always running around and playing sports,
Playing toy soldiers… and then sitting on the porch
Wondering what exactly was wrong with me.
Why was it that I couldn’t be what the other girls could be…

They were playing with dolls and going shopping,
Wearing their hair down, frolicking and hopping
From one hobby to another that I didn’t want anything to do with…
Should I start pretending to enjoy all this?

Well eventually that’s what I tried to do…
Put on a fake smile
And live in denial
Of the fact that I was indeed different.

But still many years were spent
Telling myself that my time would come
When it would finally feel alright to succumb
To the general norms of my fellow female.

But that time never came and time began to sail
Into the time when we all begin to lust
For something more for the ones around us…
But again…I seemed to be losing my sight…
Because I wasn’t feeling or seeing the same things as Mrs. Right.

Oh but still my time must come when I will finally fall in love
With some grand prince charming who comes down from above…
But the funny thing is…I didn’t want that at all…
Then finally my walls I had built up around my heart began to fall.

And that’s when this new chapter of my life
Came to unfold
and stir up the strife
That I had been trying to hold back for so long.
I guess I must not be all that strong…
Because there seemed to be nothing I could do or pretend to be…
To forever hold back the real me.

This all seems so bitter sweet.
It’s amazing to finally feel a heart beat.
But it’s not so pleasant to know that it’ll never be ok
To be myself and let these feelings stay.
And that’s why I fear I should have never opened up my heart,
And let this thing called feeling start.

The Reaction (Part 2 of “Locks of Lies”)

So how did people react to my transformation (see my blog post “Locks of Lies”)? People had many different reactions…similar to a group of people watching the process of a reptile shed its old skin: some thought it was pretty cool, they understood the process, and knew why it was a healthy change to be made. While others were weirded out, screamed, and ran away.

Perhaps that seems a little dramatic (and yes you are allowed to laugh). But let me break it down a bit more.

Some of my friends were totally cool. They saw that I was undergoing a change and they just “got it”. Common comments I had were “this is so you”, “you look so much more comfortable now”, and “wow, you pull this look off so well!”. They saw the change I was undergoing as being good for me (even many of my Christian friends). They had seen through some of my attempts the last few years of trying to look like someone I was not. So when they saw me, the REAL me, they were excited about it. They were on the journey with me and were happy that I had found a pair of shoes that fit right.

But I also received (or overheard) other comments and questions that were on the more frustrating side: “why are you trying to look like a boy?”, “mommy, is that a boy or a girl?”, “you look like a boy”, “wow dude, that’s a chick!”.

Let’s not forget the equally uncomfortable looks I’ve gotten. Some look annoyed, some even looked angry, others merely looked curious or confused. But they are all staring…and staring isn’t very polite. Especially when I would look back at them and it didn’t cause them to look away. Geez, stop it already!

At first, these comments or stares made me feel REALLY uncomfortable. Some days I noticed so many stares that it felt like I was walking around without pants on or something. I was suddenly an anomaly to people…and I didn’t like it. I wasn’t used to having so many people’s eyes on me when I walked to class, went to the grocery store, or went into a football game. Sometimes I just wanted to yell at them to mind their own business. The real me was finally visible…but I sometimes found myself wanting to hide again.

It took me some time to turn my focus away from feeling annoyed and frustrated at the stares I got, to having a more patient understanding of why it was all happening. I knew this was going to be tough…that’s why it took over 20 years for even ME to look like myself. My style isn’t typical of a female. My preferred style looks very androgynous (indicative of both or neither biological gender). That makes people stop in their tracks and take a second look sometimes. I am a female and they can see that after staring for a bit, but I am also wearing loose clothing and backwards hat like a lot of guys do. AND I have short hair. It’s just downright confusing at first glance to a lot of people.

There are several different categories of people you face when you look the way I do:

1. Children and their brutal honesty (“are you a boy or a girl?”)
2. Strangers (like the cashier in the store who calls you “sir”)
3. Loved ones:
                     a. Ones who totally get it, love your style, and help you pick out a bowtie for a wedding
                     b. Ones who totally do NOT get it and wonder if you are off your rocker a bit

1. Kids Say the Darndest Things

I heard a former waitress tell a story once about her various encounters with kids. She was determined to give the next kid who asked her if she was a boy or a girl a lengthy Women’s Studies 101 speech. But when the opportunity came, she found herself looking into the eyes of a small and curious child who was merely asking a question. So she simply told the child that she was a girl…the type of girl who likes to wear her PJs all day instead of a dress. And the little girl said “my favorite pajamas are purple with fish! Can I have pancake, please?”  And that was the end of it. So far as kids go, I’ve been learning to take on this approach. Just keep it simple and answer their question. Don’t get angry. They just want to know. A lot of kids are taught to only see girls and boys in very specific ways. Take this small opportunity to show them that the world is bigger than that.  Maybe it will help prevent them from being a bully later in life towards kids who have unique clothing and hairstyles. (See her speech here)

2. Stranger Danger

Random encounters, especially with strangers, are tough and the most awkward. A lot of the time, I don’t say anything (especially is they were just being an asshole). But something I’ve been trying to do more of lately is: speak up. If someone calls me a “sir”, I usually correct them, but try to be kind about it and follow it with a smile. In all honestly, they always feel way more awkward about it than I do (a secret pleasure 😉 ). I’ve often dealt with women who walk into a public restroom as I walk out…only to swing around, run out, look at the sign, look at me, and then stumble awkwardly back into the restroom in confusion. I was a little embarrassed by this at first. Now, I literally laugh out loud, because…well…it’s a funny sight. It’s also fair to say that people are often very apologetic when I correct them, or they will realize their mistake before I say anything. I’m not mean about it. I just say “that’s okay”, smile, and move on. I’ve come to find that it’s important to keep your cool about such things.

Most of the time, people DO get my gender right. But I’ve come to find that one person simply takes in their first impressions differently than the next. This is likely all connected to their level of awareness of diversity as well as their willingness (or unwillingness) to take in a deeper look of someone before jumping to a conclusion. Maybe the fact I corrected them kindly and softly will help them see before they speak next time.

3 a. The “Tell me more” Friends

I am always willing to answer any questions that people have and try my best to do so without any malice. In fact, I’ve come to enjoy having the chance to describe to people why I dress the way I do and why I chose to get my hair cut short. It’s a chance to show them that I am not all that different than they are.  These deeper conversations are pretty much always with friends. These are the special people in your life who want to know more about who you are. I believe it’s important to take their questions as an opportunity to give a clarity about who you are…and in turn you have made a whole group of people visible to them. Maybe next time they see someone like you they won’t stare as long. Maybe next time they see someone like you…they will actually see them for who they are.

3 b. The “I don’t know about this…” People  

The hardest conversations I’ve had so far have honestly been with family and  (some) friends who have known me since I was much younger. They had grown accustomed to the mask I had been putting on my whole life to try to fit in. This made it a lot harder for them to see how this new style could possibly be me. In some ways, they understood that I had always been a tomboy, but still…this seemed a little extreme to them. It also just happens to be that a lot of my family and childhood friends grew up in a very conservative world. It hasn’t been as easy for a lot of these loved ones to embrace or understand my style. I’ve been called stubborn and hard-headed when I’ve worn a nice button up, dress pants, and bow tie instead of a dress to a wedding. I’ve been called selfish to do such a thing as wear a black dress shirt and pants to a funeral instead of a blouse. I’ve been told that it’s detestable to reject my womanhood this way and that I am in great need of a reconciliation with my femininity. I’ve been given books on how to be a better and more “godly” woman.

Some of my conversations have brought me to tears. Sometimes, I feel like I am talking to a robot when I try to explain myself. I say one thing and they regurgitate the same hurtful comments back to me as if I hadn’t spoken at all. I’ll pour my heart out about what this all means to me. What it feels like to have broken out of my shell, what it feels like to be the REAL me, and how this whole journey has not shattered my image of who I am as a woman but instead STRENGTHENED it, and how it has not shattered my relationship with God, but has GROWN it. But it’s not enough for some people. For them to believe that a gay woman (especially a “gay looking” woman) could actually have healthy self-esteem, a love for who she is, and actually be a Christian…is totally impossible for them to wrap their minds around. Seriously, it’s mind-blowingly impossible to convince some people that this combination can exist.

I’ve come to realize that some people don’t actually LISTEN at all. They already have their mind made up about who you are and why you look the way that you do…and no matter how many times you try to tell them the truth, they don’t actually hear it. They think they know you better than you know yourself. But they don’t. It’s a frustration that goes beyond the use of words. I know they love me and feel they are only trying to help. But to be so vulnerable and so raw and so eager for them to feel what you feel…and then they don’t. They don’t feel it. They don’t see it. So it feels like they don’t actually see or know you at all.

But it comes back to the analogy of the reptile shedding its old skin. If you don’t understand the process, you tend to take your uncomfortable feelings and turn it into ammo. Because the reptile is out of your realm of understanding…you label it as being gross, weird, and something to keep a distance with. When in reality, it was only doing what was totally natural and even necessary for its health.  But try convincing this to someone who hates snakes…it’s not gonna be easy.

But I won’t budge. You see, I’ve already been in both sets of skin. I already know that one works and the other one does not. I’ve lived the discomfort and emptiness of trying to be someone I wasn’t…I’ve lived the life they want me to go back to…the one where the void inside of me goes unseen and swallows me from the inside out. But hey…at least THEY are comfortable. NO. I will live that way no longer. I do my best not to snap, but I won’t bend either. This is who I am.

I am a hat wearing, bowtie rocking, tomboy of a woman. And I am beautiful. I actually believe that now, and I stand my ground firmly against anyone who tries to convince me otherwise.

How are you with listening to your friends or family when they are trying to tell you something? Are you quick to speak, instead of listen? When you see someone who looks different…what is your reaction? What does that reaction tell you about yourself?

Locks of Lies

 

Locks of Lies 

I can’t believe I’m finally doing this.
Looking in the mirror and remembering
A young girl who tried for so long
To fit into a world that always felt so wrong…
A vessel of false expression and fear
That
Has
Finally
Cracked.

Here we go,
It’s time to finally let show…
Who I really am.
I want to live as true as I can
and put to an end
The ignorance of who I know
I’ve always been.

So as he pulls out those shears
And begins to cut off what society had always held so dear…
I can’t help but smile;
So happy to finally let go of my self-denial.

As those locks of lies fall to the earth
I feel a sense of awesome re-birth.
I feel courageous again and I feel bold…
Strengths I know I’ll need as this new chapter unfolds.

___________________________________________________________

Let’s talk about hair. Well not just hair, but also the way we all choose to express ourselves day in and day out through the clothes that we wear. I get this question a lot, “why did you cut your hair?” I think a lot of people are merely curious, while others want to crack the code of why on earth so many gay women choose to have such short hair. What I’ll do is merely share my personal thoughts about it all. I’m sure it doesn’t reflect all the tomboy gay chicks out there, but based on conversations I’ve had it seems to reflect some of our experiences and reasons for looking the way we do.

Why did I cut my hair short?

Honestly, it all started with me wanting to switch things up a bit and just be myself. Yeah. No gay agenda was present when I got my hair cut. Sorry to disappoint you. I had been considering cutting it really short for awhile before I finally had the nerve to do it. I had really long, thick, curly hair my whole life and had it up in a pony tail or braid most of the time. As a kid, I hated wearing in down. It felt suffocating around my neck and impeded me from doing kid activities as easily as I wanted to. When I got into high school I started wearing it down about 2 times a week to try to tap into a “more feminine” side of myself, and then did the same thing in college. It wasn’t that I hated my hair, but I never could quite find a hairstyle that I really “owned”, ya know? I felt most comfortable with it up in a ponytail.

As it turns out, I had a similar relationship and treatment of my clothes as I did with my hair. Growing up, I always preferred baggie shorts/ jeans and a t-shirt to tight fitting clothes. And I HATED wearing dresses. This was a fact ever since I can remember. I have always been a tomboy, hands down. But I always felt a certain amount of pressure to “grow out of being a tomboy”. I tried wearing more feminine clothes once I got to high school and into college…again, to try to tap into a “more feminine” side of myself. I saw other friends and sisters growing out of the tomboy stage a lot easier than me and I just wanted to do the “right” thing.

But even as I approached the end of my junior year of college, wearing my hair down and being dressed in feminine and close fitting clothes just never felt right. Even as a 21 year old, I preferred my loose T-shirt, jeans, and a pony tail to any other outfit. And when I really stopped and thought about it all…it frustrated me. Why was it so hard to look (or rather, enjoy looking) at least sorta like my female friends or sisters? And then suddenly I had a realization…why does it matter? Why am I trying to like clothes and a hair style that I literally have NEVER liked?

It was around this time that I had a novel idea: “maybe I should try just wearing exactly what I WANT to wear and see what happens. Maybe I should try that short hair cut I’ve been thinking about for awhile. Maybe…maybe I’ll really like it. Maybe it’ll feel like a good fit for me. Maybe I should stop fighting myself over all of this.

“But I wonder what people will think?”

Gulp.

But I went for it. It honestly felt like a fairly impulsive thing for me to do…well, considering how much I had been tiptoeing away from those ideas my whole life. But it was SO EXCITING all at the same time. I already had a large selection of jeans and loose t-shirts (hey, I never said I was GOOD at trying to be more feminine). So I started wearing those more regularly. Then I went surfing online for a hat. Oh the hats. I already had a couple baseball styled hats. But what I really wanted was a wider rimed hat…I can’t explain why (maybe it was all the Rocket Power I watched as a kid), but I had always REALLY wanted to own a skater styled hat…like Volcom Stone or Hurley. I never felt like that was okay as a kid…partly because I have a memory of one of my brothers telling me I looked stupid in a hat once (funny how those little things can make such an impression on a little kid). I also didn’t really see other chicks around me wearing hats like that. So somewhere along the way I had gotten into my head that it was a stupid and a bad idea. But now here I was, years later as a young adult, and I still really freaking wanted that hat. So I bought one. Then another.

It’s hard to explain the intensity of how I really felt when I started wearing clothes I really liked instead of trying to look like someone I wasn’t. I felt like a kid again, to be honest. It was exciting…like I was exploring life all over again. Only this time, I had the courage to look the way I wanted to. And then the hair. I’ll never forget going to the hair stylist with two of my best friends. In fact, it was around this time of the year…right before Christmas. I was out to both of them and had told them about my new journey to look more like myself…and they were totally excited for me.

I remember just looking at the hair stylist in the mirror. He braided my hair and was about to cut it off, then he said “are you ready?” Yes. I’m ready. Finally.

Seeing that guy cut my hair off was…incredible. I could hardly believe I was doing it. But as he cut my hair and styled it…I found myself looking in the mirror in awe. Not just because my head suddenly felt a lot lighter. But because I felt like I was looking at myself for the first time in that mirror. The real me.

Now, I can’t deny the interesting timing of me finally choosing to cut my hair short, wear “more masculine” clothing, and come out as a gay woman. All were happening around the same time. I’ve thought a lot about it, because for me, my sexuality and how I look are truly two different aspects of who I am. But what believe links the two journeys is summed up in one word: courage.

What gave me the courage to cut my hair is nearly the same kind of courage it took for me to come out to my friends that year. I had gained a new kind of courage. A courage that said “this is who I am…I can no longer hide it. I will no longer hide it.”

Another reason the above idea makes sense is because not all gay chicks dress the way I do or have a short hair cut. There are gay women who blend in so well with their straight counterparts in regards to the way they look that you probably have no idea how many gay people you have truly interacted with. That’s the funny thing about stereotypes. People often look at the people standing out the most (i.e. “boyish” looking gals) and take their characteristics to mold an ironing rod to brand the whole group. Sometimes accurately, many times not.

So what I guess I really want to sum up regarding my experience with all of this is with this statement: Stay true to yourself. Be you. Straight chicks are allowed to have short hair too. Gay chicks are allowed to wear dresses. There shouldn’t be such strong expectations for straight women to wear makeup, tight clothes, and have long/glorious hair (though it is okay if you do all of those things as long as it fits who you are). There also shouldn’t be such strong expectations for gay women to have a pixie cut, wear baggy clothes, and occasionally a suit/bowtie (though it is okay if you do all of those things as long as it fits who you are…I personally love it 😉 ). Society should not get to demand what you should wear, how you should style your hair, or which section of the store you shop for clothes.

When you look in the mirror do you recognize who you are? Do you see something deep within yourself reflecting back? Does it make you smile?  If it does, I think you are on the right track.

 

[I just gave you a snapshot of all positives I experienced with my transition to looking more like myself, but it wasn’t all that easy at times…stay tuned for my next blog as I dive into the ways people reacted]

Just Trust Me

When I found myself in the process of telling the people closest to me about my sexual identity as a gay person…I was scared as shit. I was afraid of losing my friends. I was afraid of losing my family. I was even afraid of myself. I was looking in the mirror for the first time with a clear view of who I was and it was wonderful…but holy crap, terrifying. How would I ever be able to share who I was with everyone who I grew up with as a “straight” person? How could they ever accept this reality? Could they ever love me like this? Could I ever love myself like this?

For several months I slept, walked, and lived with this literal knot in my stomach; a visceral response to my fear of who I was and how my world would react to it. I would lie awake at night crying out to God to take it all away…that I wanted to do and be what was right in His eyes. During this time, I found myself hearing very little back in reply besides these words, “Just trust me”. It wasn’t an easy road, but I eventually found myself responding back with a simple, “Ok, I trust you.”

As I embarked on this up and down mission to “just trust”, I actually had a very specific event that occurred later that year where that knot in my stomach went away. I don’t have time to give the whole story here, but what it came down to was a total surrender of my crippling fear, anger, and sadness towards those in my life that had raised me to hate this very real and integral part of who I was.  I had to let go of those toxic emotions. And when I did, I had an instant response within my soul (physical and non-physical) that assured me that everything was going to be okay. I know it will sound hokey-pokey to some people, but in this moment I felt the very real sensation of Jesus embracing me…ALL of me.

Fear is a poison.  It can become so easy to let fear creep into our mind and blind us from hope. It’s easy to worry. Worry that you might lose your family. Worry that you might lose a friend. Worry that you might die alone. Worry that you might lose your faith. Worry, worry, worry. We can create a state of mind where we believe that we have no value in the eyes of our loved ones or even our God.

But these fears are all a lie! I truly believe that to live abundantly, is to be free of our fears. You are enough. That is why you are breathing. I’m not saying that fear is irrational…I’m saying we should not allow a space in our mind for it to live. We need to reflect more often on all that we have:

  • Your job (even if it’s not perfect)
  • Your home (even if you’re sleeping on a friends couch right now)
  • Your family (even if they have broken your heart more than once)
  • Your friends (regardless of how many stuck with you)
  • Your health (even if you have a cold right now)
  • Your mind (because it is precious)
  • Your faith (even if it’s been shaken)

Now don’t get me wrong…I still have an issue with fear in my life. But it no longer rules my life! I am battling it! Most days, I conquer! Some days, it’s got me in a head lock. But I never let it keep me down. We must cling to what is good in this life and breathe hope into our lungs so that we can breathe that same energy back into the dark atmosphere of those hurting around us.

“Just trust me.”

 

 

The Missing Puzzle Piece

Perhaps many of us can relate in one way or another that we felt “different” growing up. I know this expression is overused, but there is not a better way to describe what was going through my mind as I drew this picture. I felt “different“. I always had. I could never quite pin-point what it was about me that wasn’t fitting into the world I thought I knew.

There are many pieces to our identity and not all of them have the same amount of importance or impact on who we are, but all of them are important nonetheless.

Throughout life I would label myself a:
• Follower of Christ
• Athlete
• Sister
• Fitness enthusiast
• Student

All of the above were more comfortable attributes to accept as part of who I was. But not all of my identity markers were that easy to own. For me, my sexuality was a roller-coaster of a ride to both acknowledge and accept.

Our true identity as our own individual self is essentially a jigsaw puzzle. We might think we have an idea of where the pieces go and what the picture looks like…but what I am finding is this: as we grow into the person we are meant to be, sometimes the pieces fall in a fairly different image than originally expected.

Do you know the frustration of trying to put a puzzle together and you just CANNOT seem to find where a certain piece goes? You might spend hours trying to force it into a spot it doesn’t belong until you finally do one of two things:

1) you toss that piece aside to try to figure out something easier, or
2) you look at the whole image from a clear angle and get it in the right spot.

For a long time I took option 1 on the whole gay thing. It was too much to process. I didn’t like how it fit with the rest of the pieces. It made me feel uncomfortable. I did not understand it. So I tossed it aside for a very long time. But as I went through life assembling my puzzle, I began to see where that particular segment went. I could no longer ignore it. I suddenly saw this part of who I was very clearly and it was a terrifying, mystifying, yet astonishingly fulfilling moment of truth. It was a piece that had been missing for so long that it felt like a cold, refreshing drink of water to have this understanding of who I really was. Well, it actually felt like the dam I had built up around these emotions had finally broken and I was dumped into the deep and icy lake of reality, but you know what I mean.

Regardless, it felt RIGHT. It felt like truth. And it also felt like I was going to be sick.

But over time, this internal battle started to calm down. I slowly began to accept it…I was gay. In learning to accept and love a part of me that I always believed to be unlovable, I was allowed to more fully love other parts of myself as well; such as my tomboy characteristics (i.e. “masculine” clothing styles). There is something very beautiful about not only accepting who you are, but also learning to love who you are. Much of my life had been focused on learning to love others (a very important thing to learn!). However, we MUST also learn to love ourselves.

Learning to love, accept, and find out who you are may be a slow and ongoing process, but please embark on it. No matter how uncomfortable the journey, I assure you that it will feel good to place those dusty and forgotten pieces perfectly in place. Each day holds new opportunities that could allow you to find and place another puzzle piece. We are continuously exploring who we are and should never settle for less than the truth. Because the truth is, the real you is the most beautiful version of yourself.

What are YOUR missing puzzle pieces? Have you placed them where they belong?