I knew I was attracted to men sexually when I was young. But I never wanted to call myself gay. The term didn’t feel right for me and I couldn’t figure out why. But then the world found out how much I love cock…and masculinity…in others. No one could stop calling me gay. I was pigeonholed into the identity.
I knew my sexuality was being policed. But I never once realized that my sex identity was being policed too. After all, I could only be gay if those I were attracted to had the same sex identity as myself.
I didn’t have the self-esteem necessary to gain agency over identities the world didn’t want me to have agency over. Everyone needed me to identify as male, so that’s what I did. Everyone also needed me to identify as gay, so that what I did.
But I am not a gay male.
As a child, I felt I needed to provide for my family. I have three siblings, so my parents didn’t have time for my emotions. I suppressed them, primarily letting them out only when I sang.
It felt natural for me to mold myself to what the world wanted from me. I had no idea what I wanted for myself (no matter how hard I tried), so why not? After all, I was never barred from finding men attractive.
The catch was that I couldn’t be happy with my body or my sex characteristics. But how was I even to know how unhappy I was? I suppressed my emotions…except when I sang. When my voice changed, I was devastated. I thought to myself, “Aren’t I supposed to have a high voice?”
Every time I get voice lessons, I tell my teacher I want to train my upper voice. I want to sing songs performed by females. I want to perform songs that are high.
I tried to look up males singing these songs, but they change the pronouns and such to the masculine. Nope, that’s not me. I literally started screaming at the screen.
My sex identity is so very…abstract. It’s difficult for me to remove the hair on my chest and add boobs to it in my head. It’s slightly easier for me to imagine getting “fucked in my pussy” (tehe), but even that’s hard to imagine.
I like to spread my legs and put my body pillow right on top of where my pussy would be when I wake up in the morning. I don’t know why I gravitate toward the missionary. But it gets my heart pumping, so why not?
It’s not hard for me to imagine myself singing a song meant for a female in a range that’s difficult for a male to sing in. That I can do…right now…semi-well. There’s far less imagining involved, yet it’s still a sex characteristic…right? Why bother imagining a body I don’t have when I can sing with a voice I do have?
But now I can imagine the body I want to have because transitioning. I never once thought transitioning could be something I could do. But that’s what I want…so why not?
A Frolicker of Fluidity