#MY GIRLIE EMPLOYMENT SLAY

[sungtaro]

JO YURI 🌼 'YELLOW CIRCLE'

[nokingsonlyfooles]

The Genders

I hope that Magritte, being a surrealist, would bless this like Dali's little addition to the Mona Lisa. The original, one of a set, is called The Lovers, with the implication that love is blind. If you read it that way, it's very sweet.

But, I've been feeling this way for the past few days and it's nothing to do with love. So I made an addition. It's not about what they see - or don't see - in each other anymore. It's about how every time I'm in a position to be seen, everyone puts a bag over my head. (And maybe you feel that way, too, I dunno. If it speaks to you, go ahead and use it.)

It's not really everyone, but, oooh, it's vanishingly few who don't, and that's... Well, look at it. It's suffocating.

I popped out of the womb, they assigned me a gender, and they told me that was me. Not a social role or an assignment they inflicted upon me, but me. They said they saw me, and that bag reflected who I was. They taught me that the bag over my head was for the purpose of self-expression. That it was empowering. That, in true 2nd wave "we're all sisters" style, it was a Girl Boss banner for me to carry into battle, so I could slay the Patriarchy.

And, almost immediately, they started telling me I was wearing it wrong.

If you drew that gender in the genetic lottery, you know what I mean. The contradictions. Yes, be a girl, but don't be all girly. Barbie, lipstick, heels, and nail polish are tools of the oppressors. But, no, like, don't go out in sweatpants like that, that looks like you hate yourself. And, here, make sure you grab some things off that patriarchal structure you're supposed to be fighting and claim them for yourself. Be aggressive! But not shrill. Be strong! But not too emotional. Oh, of course your period hurts, but get out there and do your job at or above the standards set by the men around you (men who are also being ground into dust by the Patriarchy), because it's your responsibility to prove that this bag over your head doesn't make you anything less.

And, here's the thing. I don't mind "woman" as a job. I never did. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, household logistics, shopping (God, do you know how much of an effort it is to shop properly on a budget? Not just to buy what you need and get out, but to juggle what you need, what you want, what's on sale, where they sell it, and what you can do with it?), growing and storing food, basic repairs, and everything we call "domestic"? I got lucky. I have that kind of brain. I am happy to do that for society! I will, if I ever get my health straightened out, even care for your children like you like! Now, I can't do that AND a full-time fucking job that pays money - not without serious health support that no employers have been willing to give me - but I will take all that other stuff off your plate so YOU can do some kind of job that pays. And I happened to team up with someone who's willing to do that for me. In that respect, we both look like we're wearing our head-bags like champions.

But for literally everything else? Fuck it, I'm a train wreck. And you wanna know why? It's not just because "woman" is hard. It's because "woman" is not self-expression for me, that's just what you asked me to do to help out. I'm willing to do it! And, shit, of course I respect the hell out of anyone else who's willing to do it - for whatever reason! But that was never enough. You want me to be the bag. Or, well, if I don't like that bag (I never said I didn't!!) you have another bag for me. The gentleman up there is wearing it. How 'bout that?

LGBTQIA, right? People always spotlight aro/ace (and a few privileged folks want to exclude "ally" - you know, that word that will let you access a queer space and escape with your life if you need to be in the closet?) but I almost never see anyone mention agender. That's me. That's what I'm trying to express. And you leave me nothing and no space to express it.

I don't have a clothing department, I don't have a toy department, I don't have a colour, I don't have a bathing suit style. I don't particularly want a body-type - I think it's fucking psychotic to expect people to alter their bodies to express a bag - but men and women have a template to shoot for, and it says something about how you see me that I don't. Everything that exists is labelled pink or blue and all I can do is mix and match.

I don't necessarily mind that either. I have freedom of choice. That's super important! It can even be fun! But I don't have freedom of expression, do I? I have one person in my life who gets it. I thought there must be a few more, but recent circumstances have proven that, no, it's just the one. Someone out there on the internet tightened up the bag to the point where I couldn't breathe...

Anon [tightening the garrote]: "AFAB" is only about who you are, not what we expect of you, right? Well, there are much less "problematic" ways to talk about who you are. Include everyone who shares your gender, or all genders equally, or get out!

...I freaked out, and he was the only one who saw what the problem was. Everyone else backed off from the crazy person who was screaming and clawing at their face like they couldn't breathe.

Maybe they just didn't know what to do to help. I think that's probably it. But that's because they couldn't see me.

I sent up a flare and I attracted one other semi-stranger who was also nonbinary and able to validate me. And that's it. That's... not so hot. If I'm choking and only two motherfuckers know the Heimlich, it's not safe for me to eat. But, I gotta eat.

So, here, I made an art. And I typed multiple paragraphs explaining myself, like usual. But, it kinda sucks that I have to. I can't just say "I'm [word]" and you get me. I can't just put on a hat, or an outfit, and have everyone know. Hell, I can't even do it with surgery.

In the past, I've said "any/all" for my pronouns, because I wanted to mix and match, like my clothes. I say, "As long as you acknowledge the genderless void inside me, call it what you want. 😅" But I can't get people to acknowledge the void, all they see is the bag. Okay. No more any/all. I may dial it back to xe/they when I'm feeling less confrontational, but it's xe/xem for now. Because I don't want this fucking bag on my head.

And, because I'm autistic and I often talk right past people with all my complexity, I'll say it with music: