Aggressive Positivity Network

I was describing my gender troubles (yet again) to her, saying that I wasn’t sure what I was, or what to call myself. I described it the way that I had described it to many people: that there was a locked door in front of me, and my entire life I’ve been going through a giant ring of keys, distraught that none of them fit to open the door.

She then asked me a question that I didn’t really have an answer to:

“What’s on the other side of that door? Why do you even want to open it?”

None of the answers I gave sounded right. Things like community, safety, identity…I could have those without knowing exactly who I am or what I like.

Now I get it — I haven’t been trying to find the right key to open the lock. I’ve been standing outside an open door, furiously trying to find a key to ceremoniously put into it before I enter. The room’s been right there. I just haven’t decorated it because I haven’t felt like it’s the “right time”.

Your sexuality and gender aren’t the key to open the lock, it’s the sign and decorations you put outside your door to let other people know it’s yours.

I think, especially during pride, we put a lot of stock in labels and flags and checkboxes of identity. As someone who was diagnosed with autism fairly young and who benefited greatly from it, I thought that gender labels would work the same way — that I would find the label and that everything would start to make more sense.

“Haha ohmigod GIRLIE, THEY-LIE, this is, like, the perfect way for you to count your calories and make sure you don’t have that sneaky little muffin top in that bathing suit! You might develop an eating disorder, but hey, you can change the wallpaper and personalize your avatar! And if you’re NEUROSPICY (and by that we mean a touch of the ‘tism, none of those other gross ones), then don’t worry, because we will change absolutely nothing about our app! Yay!”

As in, he will adopt the personality trait that is funniest at the time. If he sees two guys kissing after walking home from the party supply store, he will probably say something to the effect of “Ugh, get a room.”

But if he needs to throw off his enemies, he will definitely flirt with them to catch them off guard and not be the least bit ashamed. Or, if he is helping the heroes, he will, without hesitation, cross dress and charade as an undercover hero’s girlfriend. In a completely inappropriate dress for the occasion, like a flouncy pink dress that you might see at a six-year-old’s birthday party.

You mean that it’s not normal to feel immense guilt about literally everything you do? Or have to reason with yourself to be able to participate in interests because you’re afraid of accidentally supporting an asshole? Or to argue with yourself to try and have the most nuanced and perfect view on things because otherwise you aren’t trying hard enough?????

I mean, I had compulsions to wash my hands and check my temperature when I was young, but I thought that shit was just my anxiety…