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#I haven’t changed how I dress I still have a masculine haircut most of the time my facial features obviously haven’t changed
lesbiansanemi · 6 months
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I think… I have figured out the reason I never get gendered as a guy anymore and it’s making me have…. A lot of really complex feelings
#most of my life I’ve been VERY androgynous#and ever since I cut off all of my hair when I was 16 and started dressing in men’s clothes#I tended to get gendered as a man or woman p equally by strangers#(until I talked because my voice tends to be a give away which is a whole other thing I have Thoughts about but that’s a different issue)#but in the past oh… idk… six months or so? I literally NEVER get gendered as a guy#it has happened ONCE#like sure ppl will ask for my pronouns but I know that’s just cuz I look like stereotypical genderqueer afab person#it’s not cuz they can’t tell what my gender is…#and I’ve been wondering what’s so different. why don’t I ever get gendered as a man anymore#I haven’t changed how I dress I still have a masculine haircut most of the time my facial features obviously haven’t changed#SO WHAT DID#I… I’ve figured it out….#I’ve gained weight. but only in my hips and thighs#all my pants that I’ve had for YEARS are suddenly too tight and too small around my hips and thighs#I’ve NEVER had curves anywhere before I was always stuck straight and now… I do#and like part of me wants to be happy. I’m gaining weight!!! I’ve always been so horrendously underweight#and I’ve battled severe disordered eating for so long that was the cause#this past year I’ve actually very steadily been eating three meals a day instead of one#I can eat whole portions without getting sick#and I’m really proud of myself for that like I’m def not upset I’m gaining weight#it’s just. it’s just that it’s literally all in my hips and thighs#and it’s giving me a more feminine figure which I’ve NEVER had before#and I know your body goes through more changes in your twenties and that’s probably part of it too#it’s just. I don’t want this. I don’t like this.#I haven’t felt genuinely dysphoric in a long time and now I want to crawl out of my skin whenever I look in a full body mirror#cuz I see it now. I see the change. and I just. do Not fucking Like It#but I can’t do anything about it 😭#and idk what to do#ugh#kaz rambles
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morporkian-cryptid · 6 months
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On gender, confusion, and labels
I want to talk about my experience of gender, because it’s been a long and complicated journey and I’m finally at a point where I’m not having an identity crisis every six months. I haven’t seen many people with a similar experience in my years on the Trans Website and I kinda wish I had people tell me this earlier. This is not meant to be catch-all advice for all gender-confused folks, just my own story; if others can resonate with it and feel a little less lost, then I’ll be happy.
(This is gonna be pretty long, be warned)
I experience little to no dysphoria, and that’s probably why it’s taken me so long to accept that I’m not cis. What tipped me off to the whole Gender Situation was mostly the euphoria of being perceived as a masculine woman, or mistaken for a guy.
I came out as genderfluid years ago, to about two persons. Six months and a lot of thinking later, I went back on it because it turned out it was just a phase.
Well, not a phase, more like a cycle. After that, I kept deeply questioning my gender every six to twelve months. Most of the time I’d feel like a woman (albeit without any clear idea of what “being a woman” actually meant), and every now and then I’d get clear flashes of “I’m something else” feelig and start to question my entire identity for a couple months; then go back to “nah actually I’m cis”. Rinse and repeat.
I kept cutting my hair increasingly short, event went as far as a buzzcut. I rarely wear makeup. I like when people mistake me for a boy or are confused about my gender.
Every year or so, I found myself looking at binders. Every year I flaked out. At some point I bought compression bras but barely wore them because they were uncomfortable. I like my chest in and of itself, but sometimes I don’t like the way it looks with dresses or frilly tops – I like my chest but I don’t want it to be perceived. (I did buy a binder eventually, for the few days when I want my chest gone. I don’t wear it a lot, but I’m happy to have the choice.)
For a while I played with using different pronouns; I asked my friends to call me he or they for a few days, or I’d introduce myself with those pronouns in talking groups. But most of the time I went back to “she” like an old comforting jumper.
I even changed my name for about six months, then went back to my birth name. That was a very difficult time. I didn’t want to change my name. I like my birth name a lot. What happened was, Elliott Page came out, and I heard the name Elliott and my brain kinda went, “huh I like that name, it fits, I kinda like being a girl named Elliott”; and then it was like an itch that wouldn’t go away unless I scratched it. The weight of that decision scared me. It wasn’t like pronouns or a haircut: a name is what I present myself to the world with, and I was terrified of changing such a big thing about me.
My friends were very supportive, and switched without problem. I was lucky enough to move abroad for a six-month exchange program right when that identity crisis happened, so I got the very rare occasion to introduce myself as Elliott to people who didn’t know me at all, and whom I wouldn’t see anymore after six months. My flatmates were great and called me Elliott without question.
Six months later, the name stopped fitting. I don’t know how to describe it, but it just didn’t feel like me anymore, so I went back to my birth name, and all my friends were chill with that. (I still use Elliott as a pseudonym online.)
The reason the early years of questioning my gender were really complicated, is because for a lot of my life I’ve been really into labels. I wanted to understand things and put them in neat little boxes; and my identity was no different. If I’m not a woman then I must be trans. But I feel like a woman 75% of the time. Can I call myself trans if I identify with my AGAB most of the time? Do I actually identify as a woman, though? Or am I okay with being perceived as one? What does “feeling like a woman” even mean? Technically, by definition I must be genderfluid, which means I’m trans, but that’s a word that doesn’t feel like it applies to me. I can’t be part-time trans. But I’m not exactly cis either. Then what the fuck am I??
I wanted a word to put on my identity, because if I didn’t have one then I didn’t know what I was, and that was really difficult to live with.
It took me years to shed that need for a label, and to get to the point I am at today. Today I see my gender as feelings rather than identity. My gender is too big and complicated to neatly fit into a word, or even ten. My gender is the way I dress, the way I talk, the emotions when I am called miss or sir, the feeling when I look at myself in the mirror after a fresh haircut. It’s a hundred interconnected tidbits that all shift day to day.
The best way I’ve found to describe my experience of gender, is this:
I am not a woman
I am fine with being perceived as a woman
I do not want to be perceived as feminine
These are the three things I’m certain of right now (and they might change later! And that’s okay!), and my day-to-day gender presentation hinges around them. I no longer try to look inside myself and ask “What is my Gender?”, because I’ve never found a straight (ha!) answer, and that’s only ever brought me anguish. What I do now, is look in the mirror and ask myself “Do I like this outfit?”, look at a sentence I wrote and ask myself “Do I like these pronouns?”. I’ve kind of applied the Marie Kondo method to my gender: does this spark joy? Then I’m doing it. In this text I’m sending to my friend, does calling myself “handsome” spark joy? Then I’m calling myself “handsome”. Does wearing a binder under this dress spark joy? Then binder it is. If I want to try out a new name, I can tell my friends and they’ll try it out with me, and if it turns out I don’t like it, I can always ask them to go back to the old one. The gender feelings I’m feeling right now are as real as the ones I felt yesterday or the ones I’ll feel tomorrow, they’re as important and I am allowed to indulge in them.
With labels, I do sort of the same thing, although I’m not quite there yet. The best word I’ve found to describe myself is genderqueer, because it’s vague enough to not imprison me inside a box. Sometimes I’ll say I’m non-binary if that’s relevant to the context of the discussion. I still don’t actively describe myself as trans, because the vastness of that word and the experiences it comes with is still a bit scary for me – but I don’t forbid myself anymore from taking part in things labelled as “trans”, like talking groups, pride events, Tumblr posts and Discord servers. Even if I don’t identify with the word, I identify with many of the experiences, and I do technically fall under the definition of transgender. I’m allowed to be part of that community, even if I kinda just lurk around the doorstep. Maybe one day I’ll be comfortable enough to actually come in, and proudly call myself transgender.
I have been sort of toying with the idea of maybe one day going on T. If I had had that idea a few years earlier, I would have freaked out and had another identity crisis over it, like I did with the name change. As things are right now, I’m just sort of considering the idea and giving myself time to think about it, do research, try alternative ways to change my body first. There’s no rush at all. I know now that my perception of my own gender varies over time, and that I can take years to get comfortable with aspects of my identity or presentation. I can take my time; I can go on T in a few years when I’m certain, or I can decide I don’t want that. I don’t have to make a big decision now.
Seeing transition this way is incredibly freeing.
I’m very lucky to experience minimal gender dysphoria, but because of that, I conflated “being okay with people perceiving me as a woman” with “actually being a woman”. I mostly use she/her and my feminine birth name, not because they describe my gender (they very much don’t), but because they’re comfortable. It’s like I’m goth but I don’t find goth clothes comfortable, and displaying my identity as goth isn’t worth the discomfort of wearing itchy clothes. So I prefer to wear this old sweater that’s super comfy even if it doesn’t reflect my tastes, and stick a couple of skull pins on it so other goths know I’m actually one of them. Just because the sweater isn’t goth doesn’t mean I’m not goth inside. Just because I go by she/her and a feminine name doesn’t mean I’m not non-binary inside. Explaining my actual gender to the people around me isn’t worth the hassle, misunderstanding and possible debates about my identity; the people who understand know, and the others don’t, whatever.
(TL;DR) So, yeah. This is a lot of text to really just say, if finding a word for your gender hurts, don’t try to find a word. Focus on the experiences, do what makes you happy, gender-wise. Labels can be helpful, but if they’re not, you are not obligated to use one. Gender is incredibly complex and cannot be easily summarized by words. At the end of the day, what’s important is your feelings, and trying to make them good feelings.
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1998tales · 4 years
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4 APRIL 2020
11:25PM
I continued my habit of waking up late and taking an afternoon nap. I kept scrolling through https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/country/us/ all day to see the death tolls and infection rates.
Aside from that, I watched the 2017 version of Truth or Dare. I liked the movie overall, only I would have tweaked the dares for people to be able to survive them. A few of them were impossible to survive. Plus, when it’s revealed that the demon/evil thrives on your fears and secrets, we should have found out what each person was hiding. I don’t think that was probably shown, or maybe I’m just dumb and didn’t realize what was going on. I looked up spoilers and youtube reviews for the Blumhouse one made in 2018. I bet I would have liked that version too. Something that I’ve always liked about horror films is that you see young people with such independence. Where are the parents? LOL 
As a teenager, I didn’t have much independence. In college, I was mainly stuck in my dorm or apartment with no one to hang out with and nowhere to go. Even now in my 30s, I’m dependent upon other people and my friendships aren’t really my own. I’m just the third wheel in most situations. Middle age is dawning on me and I feel like I’ve never really lived. I haven’t experienced very much in life. No guys have ever really liked me. No one really seeks my friendship.
I was convinced through movies and books that we all go through an awkward stage and that stage will end. Some guy will notice you and like you. You’ll find that quirky group of friends who will have your back. You’ll have moments of euphoria and transcendence. No, no, and nope. A few of us will never experience what it is to be loved by someone. That’s just reality.
We don’t need excuses from people. We don’t need cliches. Life does not work out for all people, no matter what they do. The pretty girls at my work get handed life on a silver platter. All of my life boys and men have made sure to tell me, that I am worthless. Sometimes, your self-esteem is already so broken by your family that the rest of your little world adding to it just hammers the nail in.
I’ve been called ugly, masculine, and stupid in both direct and indirect ways my entire life. My mother would call my hair “shit colored”. To this day, I hate having my haircut. I hate going to salons. I remember as a child having my hair insulted at them because I would wear it up so much. I wore it up so much because people would make rude comments when I wore it down. People do not understand the damage they do to children.  I’ve been wearing my hair up because of this since 1993. I haven’t had a professional haircut since I was in my early 20s.
Boys would call me masculine. I can’t figure out why, but they would say I had a penis. I dreaded being misgendered on the phone. I still remember one Halloween where a man called me a boy. It ruined the entire night. I realized at the time he couldn’t really see me in the dark, but it still hurt. A group of friends were all out somewhere and one of them got into a conflict with a guy. Then the guy looked at me and them, and said “go back to hanging out with that girl, or whatever it is.” I truly do not understand why this was said to me. I didn’t look like a boy.
As an adult, this transitioned into calling me gay. Now, gay people do not like to hear it, but a straight person like myself does not want to be called gay. I want to attract men, not women. I’m not being called gay because I’m popular with women, it’s just another way to say “You are ugly, masculine, and are repulsive to men.” My co-workers think I’m gay. One of the few times I’ve went out in my life, I had some man accuse me of being gay (repeatedly to taunt me), all because I was wearing a button up shirt. No doubt if I were blonde and pretty, that would have never happened.
To this day, if I wear a dress, I always get a comment from someone. As if it’s the wildest thing that I could wear a dress. I feel so self-conscious wearing them that I rarely ever do. I have only worn them 4 times in the last 5 years despite really wanting to wear them. I’m saying this in the nicest way, but if men can walk around wearing them, why should I get these weird comments? Why do people always have to insult me?
My goal once I lose weight is to wear them more frequently.
I think all of my issues with people judging me as masculine have influenced my near obsession with makeup. I used to not feel entitled to wear makeup or anything feminine, because of how people would insult me. That changed a few years ago and now I usually wear a full face every day. I feel like it’s my only way to ever be feminine. And I didn’t wear makeup as I do now. I started to wear foundation to help cover up how red my face would get. Then, I moved on to wearing mascara and a wash of color on my eyelids. It took a long time to get into lipstick because I knew someone would make a comment. They did.
When you suffer from shyness that is so painful, you might exaggerate the negative contact you have with others, but when there’s a recurring pattern of being insulted in a particular way by people, you have no way to escape certain phobias or avoid developing certain anxieties.
I’m at the weight I am now partly because I always thought my body was disgusting. I thought that way because my mother would tell me I was fat. She started telling me this when I was 114 lbs. I had a really distorted way of looking at myself. I gained a little bit of weight and had stretch marks too. She made a negative comment to me about it when I was 16. I felt like there was no way back from this and that I could never let someone see me naked or even in a bathing suit. Now I realize at 230+ lbs, that I wasn’t a fat person then. Now, I have real damage to my body.
But then I wonder too: if I wasn’t really fat and was at my youngest, why didn’t anybody ever like me? I never received compliments from anybody. No guys showed any interest. If I lose all of my weight, I’ll still be me. Someone they never liked and now I’m older, which they dislike too. You really can’t win in life at all. I think the cards were always stacked against me. And sometimes, when I have to play along with other people’s happy lives, I get sick of it. You generally have what you do because of your looks or money. That’s the truth. Pretty people and well off people don’t want to admit it.
Even the man that I really care about, could even say that I love him, he is really handsome and masculine. I wouldn’t like him if he weren’t. That’s just the truth. Anyway, I’m tired of this subject. Just wanted to share “my truth” as the say.
I’m so terrified of going to work on Monday. Now, I regret sending that email to my colleagues. I could have spent this entire time not worrying. Now, I know that on Monday, I will have the review. I might get into serious trouble. The only comfort in my mind is that it will be over next week. Whatever happens, it will be over. If I get into trouble, I get into trouble. If I don’t, I don’t. I’m so anxious that I feel sick.
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brightjin · 4 years
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gender ramble below cut to get it out of my system so i can study so warning: block of text inc
i talked to my counsellor yesterday and we had a rly productive session! we talked abt me obsessing over whether or not i can trust my own feelings and she said that if i can’t trust my feelings, then what can i trust? we also talked about me being afraid of the consequences of coming out and we had a realistic conversation and talked about anxiety management. also me wishing i could just live as a woman, but then feeling extreme discomfort at just saying and typing that probably means thats not a reasonable option. my fear of regretting my choices was also brought up, and we came to the conclusion that i don’t have to be firm about all of my choices, that it’s okay to be nebulous sometimes. 
i don’t understand what it’s like to feel like a woman. but i also don’t know what it’s like to feel like a man. all i know is what it’s like to feel like me and what makes me feel comfortable and uncomfortable. i’m just me. that’s the only experience i can claim to understand. i’m not a woman. am i a man? that’s the closest approximation, at least. i feel more comfortable with masculine pronouns. i want stereotypically male features. i want to be perceived as a guy. it makes me feel uncomfortable and disassociated to be perceived as a woman and to have stereotypically female features. these are things that i know and feel to be true. 
being a trans guy is the closest approximation to how i feel and want to be perceived. but i’m just me. i’m just making changes to make myself more comfortable. i don’t know if this makes me a man or nonbinary by definition, but i don’t really care. i have a lot of dysphoria, but it’s lessened these days. it’s a lot better now that i dress and present in a way that makes me more comfortable. not wearing a binder and seeing my chest is very strange, but since i mostly wear baggy tshirts or hoodies when not wearing a binder, it’s not too bad. as long as i make the shirt extra baggy, i can avoid most dysphoria. sometimes my bad haircut or some outfits or seeing my body shape triggers strong dysphoria, but these days im far more comfortable. 
that doesn’t mean that i was faking my previous everyday present dysphoria, it just means i’ve taken measures to lessen it. it’s like my anxiety. even if i’m handling my anxiety a lot better these days and not having anxiety attacks every other day, that doesn’t mean i don’t still have anxiety. it just means that i am dealing with it and making myself more comfortable. i don’t have to be constantly suffering to be valid and respected. i don’t want to be constantly suffering. i’m still scared, but not as scared. maybe my anxiety will come back strong about this soon, but for now i feel okay. i feel content. i can just be me. i don’t have to see being trans as a huge life-changing thing, even though it has been. i’m just taking steps to be more comfortable with myself and that makes things less scary. 
for me, the concept of “transitioning into a man” is frightening and foreign, because it implies i’m transitioning into something that i’m not, that i’m becoming someone else. that’s not the case. i’m just becoming a version of myself that i’m more comfortable with and asking people to treat me in a way that makes me feel like me. it really feels like a weight has lifted off of me since my session yesterday and it feels amazing. it feels great. i’m just being myself. even if i feel like a fraud sometimes or that i haven’t “deserved” to be gendered correctly, i just have to tell myself that that’s not true. i’m just me. i’m just seb. and i don’t have to earn the right to be comfortable with that.
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andthenigetbored · 5 years
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I’m crying and I don’t know why
I just ordered my first binder.
It’s a black tank-style binder from g2cb. I’ve thought of myself as nonbinary for about a year now (not counting the year and a half before it where I wasn’t sure), but I only thought about getting one recently. Really recently, tho, Ive had moments where I think I experienced significant gender dysphoria around my chest. Like, I’d previously thought that they were too big (I’d gained weight in college, and went from 34B to 34D, where I still am now), but they were kind of fleeting thoughts and I never felt sick about them.
As I’m learning more about how I experience being nonbinary, I find that I kinda waffle about how I feel about being and presenting AFAB and feminine. I don’t wear skirts at all anymore, but I still wear women’s pants and blouses and, very occasionally, dresses. Most of the time, I’m kinda neutral to vaguely positive about my body. I think I might be some flavor of genderfluid tho, if there’s a version where you move between demigirl and transmasculine. I started noticing that I’ll have 5 to 10 days where I really want to be feminine, but then I’ll suddenly feel weird and then I’ll have 5 to 10 days where I want to be masculine, and then it’ll cycle back around. But, even in my more masculine moments, I would still be wearing clothes from the women’s section (women’s flannels, women’s jeans, even a regular bra) and usually not have a lot of body dysphoria when I feel masculine.
More recently, especially after I’d graduated from grad school, I’ve started feeling sick during my more masculine days. I had “boat shoes” from the women’s section of sketchers (they look pretty masculine) and boy-short style undies from Victoria’s Secret, but while they did help, they didn’t make the feeling completely go away. I’ve always really wanted to get clothes from the men’s section, but after i graduated from my nearly all-women grad program, I left my apartment (where I’m completely closeted to my roommates) to stay with my parents and little brother. For context, all three know I’m bi and tend to wear masc clothing from time to time. Only my parents know I’m nonbinary, but they have no idea what it means for me outside of not wanting to be referred to as a “woman,” specifically, and wanting to be referred to as Ely; to his credit, only my dad knows that it’s related to my gender, and he’s been using it instead of my birth/dead/zombie(?)name (I don’t hate Elizabeth at all, especially in my feminine days, but Ely is more gender neutral and feels slightly more comfy on masculine days) around 75% of the time around me, to my mom’s 20% (she thinks it’s a nickname, and I’m still kinda scared to clarify; not because she won’t love me and won’t do it, because she would if I ask, but I’m scared that she’ll be mad at me if/when I correct her more concretely. She has been saying Ely more often than she had been tho). Basically, my parents know and are ok with it, but they still don’t fully understand what that means for me, and I always find myself at a loss for how to explain how I feel without resorting to essentialist language, which doesn’t really work for them, so I don’t know how they’d take me buying masculine clothes from the men’s section (as opposed to masculine/butch clothes from the women’s section, which they’ve actually been really chill and supportive of)
To my main point, I felt the opportunity for real men’s clothes come up. I went to TJ Maxx when I had a day off and my parents were at work and my brother was away and I picked a pair of khaki shorts (like, fuckboy/yacht-club shorts) and a collared shirt with a shark pattern to try on. I picked a few shirts from the womens section too to help them blend in a bit when I went into the changing room.
The shorts actually fit me really well-they were really comfortable, and they went to just above my knees and the pockets were huge; all things that I had expected. What I hadn’t expected was how they hid my hips. I’m kinda curvy, and have a really strong hourglass figure, and I was kinda startled by how straight my thighs looked in them. It was like I was a man from the waist down and a woman from the waist up and I never felt so amazing wearing clothes in years.
When I went to try on the shark-patterned shirt though, I couldn’t button the chest part. I’d had that problem with some women’s shirts too; when you’re larger than a C cup, it makes the buttons gap weirdly in the chest. But this was the first time that the buttons couldn’t close at all. And I felt this pain in my heart that I’d felt before, but never so strongly and so continuously. I had my short-for-a-girl/long-for-a-man gender neutral haircut, I was wearing gender neutral boat shoes, and men’s shorts, and the shirt fit so nice in the shoulders and the arms and it felt like nothing mattered because the shirt couldn’t close and I felt disgusting because my chest was too big. I caught myself wondering why I let myself get so big in the chest, and wanting to plan out how to lose weight quickly so my chest would shrink (a mentality that I hadn’t had since high school, when I had a very unhealthy obsession with counting calories and came close to being underweight). When I snapped out of it, I practically threw the shirt off and tried on some of the masculine shirts from the women’s section. They all fit perfectly.
It’s been about a week since then, and I’m still processing how I felt. I bought the shorts, and I haven’t worn them yet. I didn’t tell anyone I bought them, though I think my dad saw them when he was trying to find his own pants (all four of us are around the same size, so our clothes sometimes get mixed up; for the record, I gave him permission to look through my closet for them and only remembered they were there after the fact, so it wasn’t an invasion of privacy). I’ve thought about it a lot and I decided to bite the bullet. Its my birthday in a few weeks, I’d heard that g2cb was a good company to buy binders from, and I actually wear black tank tops quite often, so I wouldn’t have to explain what it is outside of it “having a really good sports bra built in” (which, if I’m being reallllly technical, isn’t totally a lie).
So, as of about an hour ago, a binder it’s on it’s way to me. My first binder. I don’t know if I should be proud, excited, or completely terrified.
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Pre-t transmasculine passing tips
Yes passing is a cissexist concept I know but I also know that if I get called “miss” one more time I’ll knock out someone’s teeth. And a lot of trans kids out there probably feel the same. So here are my own personal passing tips brought to you by Benjamin, not covering the basics like packing, binding, haircut, mannerism and so on because enough has been written on that already.
Just so you know, I’m white, young, thin, able-bodied and 5.5 feet tall. Moreover, I live in a reasonably liberal area in Europe, so know that what works for me might not work for you.
I’m not on T and I won’t be on T for a while, maybe forever. I pass incredibly well in the darkness and to very old, possibly blind and deaf people. Apart from that, it’s a mess. I get looks at both the guys and the ladies bathroom. The people I went to high school with regularly mistake me for my brother. When I’m at university, where people have time to stare at me for hours and I am obliged to speak, they usually know that I’m trans. I pass sometimes, but not all the times, and I know that even though the internet might paint a different picture, most irl trans folks are the same.
Step 1: know who you are
Know what is working in your favor and what isn’t. I think of passing as a game of averages: everybody (cis or trans) has features people would sort into ‘female’ and features people would sort into ‘male’. The trick is to tip the scales to your favor. You’ll probably never get fully rid of all ‘female’ characteristics (except if you’ve been on T for years and are also very lucky), and that’s okay. It’s okay to have wide hips, a chest, a high voice, a not-so-masculine hairline. The trick is to not have all of them, and if you do, to hide them well enough and compensate them with other things good enough that people still sort you into the ‘men’ category. This is hugely personal, so take some time to think about your features. Are you tall? Are you hairy? Do you have a big nose? Thick eyebrows? A low voice? Find the little things and draw all attention to them. If you have large hands, wear manly rings to accentuate them. Contour your nose, fill in your unkept eyebrows, you get the picture.
Step 2: Clothing
I have seen several strategies that work variably well for different people. The big three I call Jehova’s Witness, 12-Year-Old and the Token Gay. Choose one, and choose wisely.
Jehova’s Witness:
This one is by far my least favorite, I’ve never been able to pull this off, probably because I’m too much of a rebel and this one just looks off on me. But overall, I’ve seen it work for most of my trans friends, so it’s probably worth a try if you haven’t got a problem with looking like a good boy/son-in-law/republican. The basic idea is to dress more conservative than what’s appropriate for people your age. Get yourself a pair of boring, dark-blue jeans (you know which ones), a button-up shirt that your father wears (you know which one, in case you don’t, here’s a picture:)
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Yes, they are ugly, but they’re supposed to be ugly. Wear a backpack and old sneakers. Do not wear earrings with this outfit and do not wear hats. Trim your nails and shave the manly peach fuzz off your face. That’s one topside of this outfit: People who wear this sort of thing are usually cleanly shaven, so if you’re not so lucky in the beard regard, do not worry, you blend right in. Basically, dress like the guy from your math class you never talk to, or your cousin Michael, or your old biology teacher, I’m sure you know someone you can use as inspiration.
12-Year-Old
This is the one I find most hilarious but also have seen the least, probably because you need to be able to leave your pride behind.
I had a friend explain it to me once. He’s short, no-ho, has a high voice, and he said: “I know that I look like a kid. I look either like a 12 year old boy or a grown-up woman. I chose my poison.” Go into the little boy’s section and buy a shirt with Marvel print on it, or Spongebob, or a yellow truck. Buy velcro shoes and a cap. The pro-sides of this look are that they are usually cheap, come in great sizes and no one ever hits on you (good if you’re ace like me, otherwise, sorry boys). Negative side-effects include not being able to buy alcohol and getting asked if you’ve lost your Mommy.
the Token Gay
I’m not gonna lie, this is what I do, so expect no impartiality. Basically, it works like this: Look at what the lesbian/queer/lgtb+ girls wear. Don’t wear that. I have a rule of thumb: would your lesbian best friend wear it? If yes, then you do not wear it. No matter how tempting it might be, especially if it’s plaid, and especially if you, like me, have been mistakenly thinking you were a tomboy lesbian for a good chunk of your fashion-forming years. You do not wear it. Do not trust your fashion sense when it comes to style. Trust the lesbian best friend rule.
Instead, you look at what the gay/queer/lgtb+ boys of your town wear, and you wear that. Wear an earring, go into the men’s section and get the pink shirt, or the pink socks, or the pink hat, or the jacket with the flowery print. Wear golden eyeliner if you have to. Wear a V-neck. Don’t go as far as buying clothes from the women’s section, but go far enough. If you are worried about appropriating gay culture, let me tell you once and for all: you are a lgbt+/queer (if you chose to identify this way) man, and you belong in lgbt+ spaces, and this is your community too and you can dress accordingly.
Step 3: Black and white
Wear black over what you want to hide, and white over what you want to accentuate. In my case, I usually wear black jeans because I sadly do have hips, and a white shirt because I’m lucky enough to be pretty flat when I’m wearing a binder, so this works for me. I find that I actually pass better when I draw attention to the fact that I have a flat chest compared to when I try to hide under a XL hoodie as dysphoria tells me to do. In your case this might be different, but as I said in Step 1: know who you are. Accentuate the traditionally masculine things and hide the things you want to have hidden.
Step 4: Confidence is everything: Fake it till you make it
I know everybody tells you to be confident in your masculinity and that’s easier said than done but it’s true. Don’t let people push you around. Like, if you’re in the men’s bathroom and some guy says, uhmmmm, aren’t you wrong here? You stare at him as if he looked like the idiot he is. You say, this is the men’s room, what is wrong with you? Call other guys ‘bro’ or some equivalent of that. Insist on your right to be treated like every other dude.
Step 5: A little bit of advice
Okay, after all this talk about passing I want to tell you one last thing and it’s the most important one: you don’t have to pass to be a guy/enby/agender/genderfluid/genderqueer/a woman/trans/trans*/whatever it is you personally are. Passing is a fucked up concept made by cis people perpetuated by all of us to oppress us and tell us we need to conform to their ideas of masculinity/femininity/androgyny to be treated with respect. It tells us we are not ‘real men’ if we don’t look cis. But spoilers: we are not cis. Do not give in to the thinking that you need to look like a cis man to be a man because this is not a fight that we can ever win. You are a man, no matter what you look like, you are your own and you are a man so your body, your clothing, your voice, your mannerism, whatever they criticize – and they will criticize – is all male because they are yours. Go out into the world, do what you have to do to be who you are, insist on your name and on your pronouns and if cis people misgender you, you misgender them right back and see what they will make of that. I know it’s hard, but do not hate yourself for the things you cannot change. It’s not your fault if people misgender you, you’re just a really, really good-looking man and people sometimes mistake you for a woman but that happens to all good-looking men out there and that’s all there is to it.
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nszypher · 6 years
Text
In Honor of Pride Month
In honor of pride month, I’ve decided to share my story. This is the first time I’ve done such a thing, and done anything more than silently root people on during this time. It’s been a big year of change for me and several of my friends, so I think this pride month is possibly the most important one to me.
This is deeply personal and I debated on posting this at all, but I want it out there somewhere and I don’t think anyone is really going to read this crazy long post so...here goes nothing.
Long story short, I identify as a non-binary asexual. More specifically, I feel I fit into the terms of demigril, mascandrogyne, genderflux agender asexual. Which is a lot of terms, some seemingly conflicting, but all fitting.
As most do, I felt I was differing from “the norm” fairly early on. I was considered a tomboy as a kid as I tended to gravitate towards things that were largely considered to be “for boys.” My parents let me do and be what I wanted without shaming me for how I chose to dress or what I chose to do. They did dress me in more traditional feminine clothing when I was young, but once I was old enough to make my own choices, they let me do as I pleased. They never once forced me, after that point, to wear something because it was appropriate, or do or stop doing something for the same reason.
I know I am very fortunate.
I once expressed to my mom that I wished I had been born a boy. I knew then, and still know now, that the reason I felt that way was not because I felt I was a boy, knew I was supposed to be, but because I saw the privilege bestowed upon males. They were allowed to play outside and get dirty without comments. They were allowed to play video games and like animals other than dogs, cats, and horses. They were dressed in blues and wore pants. It seemed to me, in my eight-ish year-old mind they were given more freedom. Girls like me were frowned upon in society, at least at the time. I wanted to do whatever I liked and wear whatever felt nice, and society as a whole did not want me to do that.
My parents told me, in nicer terms, fuck them and do what you like. You’re not hurting anyone, so why should they care?
Then puberty hit, and the differences in everything became so much clearer. Or at least, the fact that I was different became clearer. We were told that we all would start having urges and thoughts and feelings, and it’s all natural. And people around me did, I suppose. I can only go by what happened in media and what little I saw of people at my school through my own lens. They told you that these things were natural, and everyone did them, so what are you to think when it doesn’t happen for you?
The problem is, especially where I grew up, you were told there were two genders, male and female, and that the only thing you should be is heterosexual, or straight. If the mentioned homosexuality at all, it was in the context of things that were wrong and bad. There is only dialogue about this, as I see it now, very narrow window of how things should be. Two genders, one orientation, no variation of those.
So when you don’t fit into that slot, it can be very disorienting. I spent my high school years wondering what was wrong with me. I got into a semi-romantic relationship because “that’s what people do.” I say semi-romantic because I think he felt it more than I did, and while I did really enjoy being with him and around him, the most we ever did was hug. I really cared about him, but looking back, it was very true that it was never going to go any further than close friends. I realize now that what I liked in that relationship was not being a girlfriend or having a boyfriend for the romance and god forbid the sex, not that we ever did it, but having someone who was dedicated to me, that made time for me, that would come over at a moment’s notice if he wasn’t busy, and that wouldn’t put others over me.
I want a friend and companion. That’s about it.
It wasn’t until college, I think it was sometime in Senior year (weirdobagel corrected me because I was wrong) that my roommate and best friend found the term asexual. And it was...life changing for the both of us. I believe I can say that much for her. Suddenly, there was a word describing what I had felt. Suddenly, there was validation and the promise that I was not broken or lying or just missing it. Suddenly, I had something to cling onto. I am this. There is nothing wrong with me. Identifying that was such a relief, and finding that there were more people in the world besides just the two of us that felt the same way. I just cannot describe the elation. 
What are the chances of not only finding someone else just like you completely by chance, but also rooming with them and having them find that?
I thought that was where my revelations would end. But years later, there was more to come.
In 2017, two of my friends began transitioning from female to male, one early in the year, one near the end. I only found out about the first by chance because they mentioned HRT, and knowing their previous history with gender identity, there was only one thing that could stand for. He did not tell me directly, and to be fair, hasn’t actually told me anything about it, but he has plenty of support where he is and doesn’t need me. 
It’s okay. This same person who came out as bi to me six years earlier is also the same who told me, in that same conversation, that I couldn’t be ace because I haven’t had sex yet after I confided in them about being ace. I had never questioned them in any way before then, and didn’t even laugh or flinch when they said they were bi, and yet, they told me I couldn’t be ace because I hadn’t had sex, so how would I know?
But the other has been one that was scared to come out to me (which saddens me but I understand...I was in the same place. More on that later), but is one I have been supporting from a distance since they have. They came out to me one October afternoon in a long message over Facebook Messenger while I was at work trying to solve a huge problem. At the time, all I could do is send a short message back saying that while it was a bit of a shock, I was behind them 100%.
While I was working on the problem and getting through the day, I got to thinking. Feeling that you are one or the other was...I realized, kind of strange to me. I had always said I was a girl, and I think in part because I had always been called one. I had not questioned it because my logical brain said that I must be. That is what everyone calls me. I have boobs and lack a penis. So isn’t that what I am? But then, why do people who loose their boobs or penis or what have you know they are still female or male? And why do transgender people feel they are the opposite gender? I realized that it sort of baffled me...because I don’t really feel like either.
I say I’m genderflux because I do feel like a female stronger sometimes than others, but I mean, if you put it on a scale from 0 to 10, with 0 being feeling like nothing at all and 10 being totally, unquestionably, no doubt female (in my case), I peak at a 3 at most and hover more around 0 to 1.
And this was a revelation brought about because my friend was transitioning, and it got me to thinking about things in my own head. Crazy how those things work, huh? And I started looking around, reading on the internet about various things, and I came across these terms.
Demigirl: Not nessecarily identifying as female, but not having a problem being called those pronouns.
Mascandrogyne: Feeling mostly androgynous, but presenting in a more masculine manner.
Agender: Not really feeling attached to either.
Nonbinary: Not falling in the binary spectrum of male or female.
And suddenly, it made sense. It makes sense to me now. I will say that it’s not because my parents didn’t push me to this. I did what I did, dressed how I dressed, because it’s what felt good. I have never done anything because it was “male” or not because it was “female.” I do buy things from the male clothing sections because they are more comfortable, and I gravitate there because history has taught me I am more likely to find something I like there but if female stuff had the form and function male clothing did too, I would buy from there. I don’t tend to like the look of female clothing, cuts and patterns, on me, but can appreciate them on someone else. I like shorter, male-type haircuts because they feel nice and suit me.
My last haircut was not great. It didn’t...quite do it. It actually almost looks a little too masculine for me. Shock!
When I was younger, it used to bother me when I was misgendered, but it also bothered me when I was forced into a thing that felt wrong. 
When I was twelve, we went on a cruise and because I was female, I was forced to wear a skirt to dinner because that is what was mandated for females. I hate dresses. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just wear nice pants.
When I was in middle school, before I cut my hair, I had someone at the church I was attending at the time convince me, after much convincing, to let her do my hair and make up. I had done make up things before in Girl Scouts and with my mom, and I already knew I hated it. I hated the feel, and I hated the time and effort it took. But I let this person do it anyway because...maybe I’ll change my mind? Because it’s what people do? I don’t know for sure why I did, but I did. I hated the result. My mom said I did look very pretty, but I didn’t look like me, and looked even less happy.
In middle school and high school, I had a friend who used to tease me that I didn’t know what gender I was, whether I was a boy or a girl. That really bothered me, though I didn’t know why exactly. I thought I did, thinking it was just because he was calling me something I’m not.
I used to be extremely bothered when people called me the wrong gender. Like much more than maybe it should’ve bothered me. I had a manager of mine at GameStop as why he let his twelve year-old son work there. I was seventeen at the time. They proceeded to make fun of me after he corrected them. He also then told them I was a valued employee and if they made fun of me again, he’d kick them out. I let an older lady with a few items go in front of me at WalMart because I was buying groceries for the month. She told the cashier that “this nice young man” let her go in front of her. The cashier and I shared a knowing look.
My mom actually said to me, not meaning to sound callous, that I bring it upon myself by dressing and cutting my hair the way I did.
I now realize that it was because I was nonbinary, but I didn’t know it. I didn’t understand what that meant. I wouldn’t hear the term until nearly ten years later. And I wouldn’t identify as that until almost 15. That sort of thing is not discussed or accepted around where I grew up.
With these new terms, I came to understand why I didn’t like swimsuits made for females. I came to understand why it was that I did whatever felt right and good without worrying about how it was “gendered.”
And now, call me whatever you like. I have, in the past two months, been called a male in at least three different occassions, and since finding the nonbinary term, it didn’t bother me. I don’t really mind being call either even if I still go with the female ones.
I saw a post somewhere that said “Nonbinary does not mean vaguely masculine.” But for me, it does honestly. I wear male clothing, I get a male haircut, and more than anything, I want top surgery to remove my boobs. I have been wearing a binder almost every day since early November, and it feels so right to look and be like this. I literally cried tears of joy when I found a binding swim top, and again when I used it for the first time last Thursday night. I enjoy swimming again. I have wanted to rid myself of boobs ever since I grew them, I just didn’t really see that it was an option until late last year. I knew trans people could do it, but I didn’t know I didn’t need to be trans FtM to get it.
I don’t want to be on testosterone. I don’t want facial hair unless it’s fake for a cosplay. I don’t want to get a penis. I just don’t want boobs.
I’ve been saving real hard for the surgery. I reached out to a surgeon late last year in my area for a cost estimate. It’s pricey, though I’m hoping for the lower price area and saving for the higher one, but I want it. I was worried it was just a fad of mine, but I think the fact that the cost did not scare me off and the fact that even considering it might not happen gives me anxiety proves its not. I had some unexpected expenses come up and take a big chunk out of my savings for it, and have already come up with a plan B if I fall short. That is how important that is to me. Most people won’t see the difference, but I will.
There may be more for me to discover about myself, but for now, this is all. I never thought Pride month would matter to me so much, but this one is something special to me so I had to share. Because of my friend, transgender issues matter to me more than they did. Before it was “yeah, be a good person and don’t be an asshole.” But now it’s much more personal. And because of them, I found out more about me, and found a path to making myself that much more comfortable.
So to all those who fall outside the “normal” spectrum, you are awesome! Everyone one of you! You matter so much and you just keep rocking whatever it is you do! 
To those who are still hiding away, or are unsure, you’ll come into your own. You’ll find your way. Hang in there. Your day is coming. Coming out, in any sense, is hard. I had a hard time bringing myself to express to my mom (whom I still live with) that I wanted top surgery. She took it pretty well. Still processing but wants me to be happy. And I had a hard time bringing myself to tell my ace bestie, which is crazy because she of all people would welcome me with open arms regardless of what I identify as. I nearly cried from relief when I told her. I shouldn’t have expected anything else, but my anxiety-riddled brain asked “But what if she DOES reject you? What then?” So I know, it’s hard. But one day, you won’t have to hide.
And to all those who support us but do not identify as something else, thank you for being there for us! You matter too.
For everyone else, to those against us, to those who say we are wrong or that we don’t exist, fuck you! We are going to be who we are. You can’t change that.
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beckettsthoughts · 7 years
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any/all of the trans journey questions you like but haven't already answered!!!
Thank you so much, anon! I’ve already answered a few, so I’ll go through the other questions I like from the list. There’s only a couple I missed out because they didn’t quite grab my interest in the same way, so here is (almost) everything about my trans journey.
1. How did you choose your name?
Well, I made a list of names I liked on Google docs, spent a few weeks thinking through each option, and somehow landed on the one closest to my birthname. In the meantime I discovered I have a serious affinity for names ending in -t or -tt. All of my options fit that pattern, as does my chosen middle name.
3. Do you have more physical dysphoria or more social dysphoria?
Social, for sure. I don’t really get much body dysphoria at all, and while my social dysphoria can be body-related, it’s more about how other people perceive my body than the problems I have with it. My body problems are (almost entirely) unrelated to my trans identity.
8. How would you explain your gender identity to others?
You know how most people think of themselves as men or women, boys or girls, male or female? I don’t. That’s literally it. I don’t, I can’t, think of myself as male or female.
9. How did you come out? If you didn’t come out, why do you stay in the closet? Or what happened when you were outed?
I actually think I came out “officially” when I asked my mother
11. What are your experiences with binding or tucking?
I wear a binder on and off throughout the week! I can wear it more often now because my class hours are shorter at university. I wear it most days, now, at least for the bulk of the day, but it depends on what I’m wearing. I’m actually super excited because I have a new binder arriving in the post next week, which will be a nice break from my two-year-old current binder and also means I can alternate between them.
12. Do you pass?
I don’t even know how passing as non-binary would be quantified, so no. Most people assume I’m a butch lesbian, actually, so while they’re not quite on the money at least they don’t peg me as straight?
15. What labels have you used before you’ve settled on your current set?
When I first came out as non-binary I used she/they pronouns and identified as a demigirl. I really only used that label because my issues with self-doubt were far more pervasive back then. After a short while I switched entirely to using they/them, changed my name and nickname and identified as agender, which has been about two years of my life now.
21. Why do you use the pronouns you use?
I’m not super bothered about pronouns, or at least I wasn’t at the beginning, but she/her feel really grating to me and I’ve never felt any particular connection to he/him either. I looked at neo-pronouns and found they didn’t suit me, but I liked they/them from the start and I’m still confident with those pronouns now.
22. Do your neurodivergencies affect your gender?
Yeah. To be honest, I don’t know if I would be non-binary if I weren’t autistic. My neurodivergence has such a fundamental impact on my perception of the world, especially when it comes to vague societal concepts such as gender. I don’t know if I’d be aro/ace either. That said, I really can’t imagine being any different, and I’m perfectly happy being non-binary and aro/ace despite how difficult both identities can be sometimes.
24. What medical, social, or personal steps have you already taken to start your transition?
Not many! I may like to dress in ways that appear “androgynous”, use a “unisex” name and they/them pronouns, but most people who know me don’t actually know that. They can see my androgynous style, yeah, but I don’t make a habit of correcting people or coming out so I haven’t socially transitioned much at all outside of my friendship group. All of my social media is listed under Beckett and specifies they/them pronouns, but unless people ask me about it then it’s not something I really mention. I’m trying to get better and be more confident about it, but having just moved to a whole new place I found coming out to every single person and having to answer questions about it to be way too tiring for me to handle right now.
32. How do you see yourself identifying and presenting in 5 years?
Honestly? Pretty much the same. I might have a different haircut, and probably a different hair colour, but I’m happy with my identity and presentation right now and I can’t see myself changing anything in the near future.
I’ll probably legally change my name, though. 
36. What, if any, is the difference between your gender identity and your gender expression?
While I spend most of my time in an “androgynous”/“unisex” style, I sometimes present myself as feminine. Not often though, because as much as I sometimes enjoy it, the prospect of people assuming I’m a girl and thinking of me as a woman is not one that makes me feel comfortable in the slightest. I hate it because I know that no matter how many days, weeks, or months people see me solely in my androgynous style, the one time they see me dress more feminine they’re going to immediately realign their idea of me to “a girl”. Mostly, I only present feminine around my close friends because I trust them not to change their opinion of me because of it. 
37. Do you feel more masculine, feminine, or neither?
I’d describe myself as a “neither”, to be honest.
38. What is your sexual and romantic orientation, and what are your thoughts on it?
I am aro/ace, and while I have many complex thoughts on the nature of this identity, I have developed a strong fear of expressing them because of the ever-looming threat of discourse. Sorry, but if you want any nuanced discussion about my aro/ace identity then it will have to be in a private ask or in messenger, I’m not enough of a masochist to discuss it out in the open anymore.
39. Is your ideal partner also trans, or do you not have a preference?
Being aro/ace as previously mentioned, I don’t really have an ideal romantic partner. My ideal platonic partner however, would probably be trans/non-binary. Which is pretty sweet, because my ideal platonic partner exists, and he is my platonic partner. We’re pretty much soulmates, actually.  
41. What is the place (blog, website, forum, IRL space) you get most of your info on being trans or on trans related things?
Definitely Tumblr, but my friends and various IRL LGBT+ groups have also contributed over the years.
42. Do you interact with other trans people IRL?
I mentioned my platonic soulmate, right? Also, like, all my other close friends. It’s a solid yes, from me.
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jessemccowbae · 7 years
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A CHARACTER STUDY. TAGGED BY: @vxlkyrieonline TAGGING: everybody. ever. YES YOU.
1. what does your muse smell like?
 Probably a good bit more like cigar smoke than he’d like to admit – but less than he used to. He hasn’t intentionally cut back, but the habit was more closely attached to stress and loneliness than he ever really realized. Being back on base has reduced that enough that he rarely smokes idly anymore. Now it’s more often when he needs to relax, or is just in the mood for it (usually along with a drink). Other than that, it’s just the slight pang of sweat normal to someone with a physically demanding job. He does own cologne, but rarely wears it aside from special occasions; it’s a very warm, musky, spicy scent. Very prototypically ‘manly’. He doesn’t really buy into compulsory masculinity, but it is kind of his personal aesthetic.
2. how often does your muse bathe/shower? any habits? At least once every couple of days; every day if he can manage it. He tries to make a habit of taking a quick shower after a workout or a particularly intense session on the shooting range. Hygiene was pretty low priority for the last few years while he was on the run, very catch-as-catch-can; he’s readjusting to the novelty of having his own bathroom, being able to pick out his own soap and shampoo, that kind of thing. (It’s also worth noting that most of the old Overwatch agents who’ve returned are people he always regarded as a bit more… classy, not rough and tumble sumbitches like himself, with the possible exception of Genji. So he’s a little self-conscious about his grooming around them.)
3. does your muse have any tattoos or piercings? He had the Deadlock tattoo on his left arm, and still has the ‘Walk The Line’ Blackwatch crest on his lower back just above his right hip. He may have one or two others, a memorial for his mother or something similar, but I haven’t established anything certain there. He got piercings in both ears and in his right eyebrow while he was with Deadlock, but he took the brow ring out in his early twenties and the earrings a few years later. He has no real interest in doing those again; they don’t suit his style now. What with all the monumental changes going on in his life right now, though, there’s almost certainly more ink in his future.
4. any body movement quirks ( ex. knee shakes )?
 He fidgets with his fingers when his attention isn’t being held, usually without even noticing. Most often an unlit cigar, a spare cylinder of ammo (or just a bullet), or small pieces of gear or equipment anyone’s left lying around. He never idly fiddles with his gun itself, as it’s kept loaded and that’s poor (and dangerous) form – he can do some spinny tricks with it, but only on purpose and carefully.
5. what do they sleep in? Most of the time, just his underwear (usually boxer briefs, occasionally boxers). If it’s chilly, he’ll toss on a t-shirt or sweat pants, but that’s pretty rare.
6. what’s their favourite piece of clothing?
 His hat. No question. He’s turned around and gone back into live fire to get that thing, and he’d do it again. It doesn’t have any kind of heirloom importance, unlike his gun – it’s a mediocre Stetson knockoff he bought from a thrift store outside Flagstaff on a job with Deadlock. He’d whiffed a few shots because the sun was getting in his eyes, but the only shitty sunglasses he could find had a bad glare that affected his aim as much as the squinting did, so he decided a brimmed hat might help. The only hats they had with a wide enough brim to help were the pseudo-Stetson and a couple of ratty old ballcaps, and he thought the cowboy hat looked cooler.
It didn’t really gain any personal significance until he joined on with Blackwatch. In the process of being scrubbed into a functional agent – the haircut, the uniform, some damn manners – keeping his hat was the first thing he finally pushed back on, insisted on keeping for himself. Reyes relented, and he’s quietly held it as an emblem of self-determination since then. He rolls with a lot of punches, he takes his licks, he’s used to playing along in order to keep the peace sometimes. But at the end of the day, he’s his own man, he makes his own decisions, and he wears his own damn hat.
7. what do they do when they wake up?
 Grumble profusely about having to get up. It’s not that he’s not a morning person – he enjoys early mornings, in fact – he just isn’t a waking up person. So he sets his alarm to give himself enough time to groggily come to, then quietly gets up, showered if he can, and dressed. He’s used to having to get on the move quickly, so once he does wake up, he goes from bed to “up and ready to go” in just a few minutes. Anything else like brushing his hair or having a cup of coffee or breakfast comes afterwards.
8. how do they sleep? position?
 He’s very used to sleeping in weird-ass places, often crammed in with more people than are supposed to be in a given space. So as much as he likes to sprawl out and take up his space when he first goes to bed, or snuggle up close to a partner, he invariably ends up curling up tight while he’s asleep.
9. what do their hands feel like?
 His only natural hand is the one he shoots with, but he usually wears a glove in the field, so the skin on his palms and fingers is thick but not particularly rough. It’s also incredibly strong – he’s used to having to haul himself up walls and such. The mechanical one is usually cool to the touch but not cold unless he’s in an unusually cold environment, and very smooth and finely made (Torbjorn’s work, after all).
10. if you kissed them, what would they usually taste like?
 These days, usually gum or mints. He’s actually gotten a little self-conscious about his smoker’s breath now that he’s getting kissed on the regular, and tries to compensate for it some. He’s not quite ready to really quit, but between this and the lower stress, it’s definitely becoming more of an occasional indulgence than a habit.
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skrifandi · 7 years
Text
realization of the day
this one felt good
it occurred to me today that if i had been born with a male body instead of a female body, that wouldn’t change any of the things that make me me. that wouldn’t change all of the things i feel about my gender.
here’s what i mean:
when i was born, i had a female body, so my parents put me in dresses and people bought me pink stuff and i got to be a girl scout but not a boy scout and for certain occasions my mother got me fancy jewelry instead of shit i actually wanted [for deeper analysis/context, pls refer to a much earlier post on the internal conflict of feeling like an ungrateful bitch when receiving inappropriately gendered presents].
as i grew up, i learned (and am continuing to learn) that i am more comfortable in clothes that have been societally gendered as male. i do not subscribe to most things that are stereotypically female (e.g. makeup, shaving legs/armpits, long hair, enjoying shopping, etc). i subconsciously bristle a little bit when people refer to me as a “she”. here’s the important thing: this is all part of what makes me me. If I had been born with a male body, I would still feel most comfortable in masculine clothing. I would still not wear makeup, and not shave my legs or my armpits, and I still would’ve wanted to be a boy scout as a child. If someone called me “she,” I most definitely would have bristled. The only thing is, all of that crap would’ve been a lot more socially acceptable had I been born with a dick. Being born with a vagina and growing into obnoxiously large Latina hips and boobs just meant that the people around me tried to get me to like and do a bunch of things that made (and still make) me really uncomfortable. 
But now that I understand the difference between sex and gender, now that I know that trans is a thing that looks all different ways, now that I understand more about who I am and what makes me comfortable and what makes me happy: Now that I know all that, I’m starting to become a lot more comfortable. I went to a trans-friendly barbershop two weeks ago and got the best fucking haircut I’ve ever had in my whole entire life. The fact that I teared up a teensy lil bit when I typed that sentence is evidence enough. For the first time in, honestly, my life, I feel like I want to go back to the same place and tell the person who cut my hair, “Just do what you did last time.” For the first time in my life, I’m heading into a professional workplace super fucking pumped about the clothes I’m going to wear. I’m going to be a math teacher, and I bought NERDY MATH TIES. Oh my gosh, y’all. They’ve got equations and everything. And I have some rad button-downs, and pants that don’t accentuate my stupid Latinx curves, and the sweetest kicks ever thanks to the folks over at tomboytoes (major shout-out, seriously).* I shopped for these clothes and I liked it. I have never before in my life ever enjoyed shopping for clothing, especially professional clothing. I enjoy shopping for hockey stuff and that’s about it. Except now, now that I know I can go into work in a binder, and button-down, and brogues, and a BAD ASS BOW TIE (loving the alliteration here, too), now, I actually like shopping for work. I get excited about my outfits when I get dressed in the morning. And I have to laugh, because, like, is this how it feels? Is this how it feels for cis people to get ready for work in the morning? Like, holy shit. I haven’t felt that for the first twenty-three years of my life. Oh my gosh. It feels amazing. 
**clothing props to Gender Free World, JC Penney, J Crew Factory, Tomboy Toes, and of course DapperQ’s style guide for pointing me in the right direction for professional shopping!
relatedly, thoughts on my ability to empathize with trans women:
on one hand, I get it. Because I get what it’s like to not want to be in the body you have. Because I get how it feels to see clothes that are made for your body type and want to cry because you already know that none of them are things you will feel comfortable wearing. Because I get how it feels to be scared that nobody will ever love you as you are, to be scared that nobody will ever love you because of who you are. Because I get how it feels to worry that your family will never understand, to fear that they will reject you, to fear that they will continue to treat you as the person your biological gender dictates and not who you feel you are. 
on the other hand, I don’t get it. Because as a biologically female-bodied individual, as a transgendered individual who shares in so many of the wonders and fears of trans people, [specifically what i’m trying to say here is]: As a person born with a female body and who doesn’t identify as female I have such a hard time understanding, truly, what it could possibly be like to desire a female body and to desire the gender norms that come with a female body in our society. Because that’s like the prime opposite of everything I’ve ever felt or wanted and while on a theoretical and metaphorical level I’m pretty sure I get it, empirically I have such a hard time truly understanding what that specific degree of transness must be like. I will never be a trans woman. Had I been born a dude, I most definitely would not have been a trans woman. [Trans Woman] is almost the conceptual antithesis of everything that defines my gender, my own transness. And I think it’s incredibly important to recognize this and name this and work through how this impacts my ability to build solidarity within the trans community. 
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1-65
1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?
Never, that’s bad.
2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?
7
3. The person you would never want to meet?
Bryce “Assbag” Walker
4. What is your favorite word?
Besides “fuck,” it would probably be “ugh” lmao.
5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?
Short.
6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?
“Why is my rash still on my face?? Ow??” It still burns and itches it’s great.
7. What shirt are you wearing?
HA JOKES ON U I’M NOT WEARING A SHIRT I’M WEARING A DRESS AHAHAHAAAA LOSER
8. What do you label yourself as?
A bitchy, yet sensitive nerd with self-confidence problems lool
9. Bright room or dark room?
d i m
10. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Uhhh,,, I actually think I was sleeping for once. I’m usually not asleep until like 12:30 or later wow
11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?
Unborn ;)
12. Who told you they loved you last?
I’m pretty sure it was my mom.
13. Your worst enemy?
My pains (there’s actually this one chick at school who I want to fight because she was abusive in a relationship with one of my closest friends and she dares to be “clueless” and acts like “oh, I’m the victim, poor me. I don’t know why you hate me.” and it’s so annoying oh my god I seriously want to fight her. ask me and I will tell the entire story).
14. What is your current desktop picture?
I don’t currently have my own computer because mine decided to shut down for no reasons and lose thousands of my photos but y’know it’s whatever. My phone’s lockscreen is a picture of flowers I took, and my homescreen is another picture of a black tulip I took.
15. Do you like someone?
Kinda? I can’t really tell.
16. The last song you listened to?
“Think About Me” by dvsn
17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
Uhh, Trump
18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
The girl I mentioned earlier (number 13)
19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?
Monty - I’d have him love the shit outta me
20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)
I like my eyes?
21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?
I would probably look exactly the same just more masculine?
And I would not be a douche bag (like Bryce “ASSBAG” Walker)
22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?
I can make some bomb-ass fries
23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?
Does trypophobia count?
24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.
A grilled ham and cheese (preferably provolone) sandwich :)
25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?
My bank account :) I need to put money in my savings account and I need to pay off my phone for another year and nine months or so ;) responsibility amirite
26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?
Probably Arizona. I have family there that I haven’t seen in at least two years.
27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?
Uhh psh idk man
28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
Don’t be a dick
29. What is your favorite expletive?
Still the word “fuck”
30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?
My books
31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
MmmmmmMmm save my dog Bosco from dying because he was a sweetheart
32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!
Some unknown island ;)
33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?
The kid that had died a couple days ago at my school from the flu.
34. What was your last dream about?
I have no idea ?
35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?
Clarinet? Uhhhhhhhh suure
36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?
No? I don’t think so?
37. Have you ever built a snowman?
Definitely I live in Washington and whenever it snows, I play in it (I also go to Steven’s Pass every few years,,,, I love snowboarding sm)
38. What is the color of your socks?
Black
39. What type of music do you like?
I still have a playlist.
40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?
Sunsets because they’re always so peaceful (unless I’m doing something like chores obviously), but if I’m like at the beach then I just quietly watch the sun set over the ocean and it;s great.
41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?
Caramel
42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)
I don’t sports
43. Do you have any scars?
One on my knuckle from doing the dishes.
44. What do you want to be when you graduate?
I don’t fuckin know
45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
My insecurity lmao
46. Are you reliable?
I like to think so
47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?
Do I become less anxious and insecure???????????
48. Do you hold grudges?
Not really?
49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?
Idk
50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?
All of my late-night conversations
51. Are you a good liar?
It really just depends honestly
52. How long could you go without talking?
As long as I want unless I’m mildly pissed off because then I will go off on you
53. What has been you worst haircut/style?
All of them probably my third grade hair cut, it was shoulder length with straight across bangs. It looked horrible with my face shape.
54. Have you ever baked your own cake?
Bro, I’m like a great baker and chef, of course I have. I’ve made my own cinnamon roll dough. I couldn’t finish making the cinnamon rolls because I started puking that night, but they would’ve turned out great, my mother said the dough looked good.
55. Can you do any accents other than your own?
Nope, I’m horrible at accents.
56. What do you like on your toast?
Butter and a cinnamon-sugar mix. It’s real good.
57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?
An eye
58. What would be you dream car?
I don’t know the first thing about cars so idk
One that runs well
59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.
No, but I would if I lived alone. I’m too shy lmao. I sing to myself alone in my room though.
60. Do you believe in aliens?
Definitely.
61. Do you often read your horoscope?
Not very often at all
62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?
A
63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?
Wouldn’t a dragon be a dinosaur? Dinosaurs
64. What do you think about babies?
They’re cute if they’re not related to me/I don’t have to take care of them for free lmao I hate myself
65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.
I’ll just give you a fun fact about myself: I almost did roller derby (if you don’t know what it is, look it up) in the third grade.
Prompt List | Ask Ideas | Ask
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poetryofyouth · 7 years
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Self realizations
tw: gender dysphoria, depression, bullying, homophobia, etc basically don’t read unless you want to feel down and hate me forever
(please don’t reblog)
(I just finished these >1800 words of rambling, it probably doesn’t make sense, and if you read this you know me better than my therapist, sorry bout that)
I used to be an asshole, I mean I still am in some ways, but my assholery nowadays is mostly just me being cynical towards conservative/homophobic/transphobic/ignorant people who also are assholes in my humble opinion.
I used to kinda be a homophobic /transphobic/ignorant asshole and I just get sick at what kind of an abusive dick I was.
I picked at my younger brother for liking the colour red, painting his nails, wanting to dress up as a princess in my old costume and other things.  I used the word “gay” as an insult and a curse word. I picked on a relatively flat chested girl in my class and talked about her small breast behind her back because,,, peer pressure?? I told transphobic jokes, called trans* people “it” or their birth pronoun I made fun of people in public who didn’t look obviously look like a woman or a man and called them “it” when trying to find out what sex they were with friends. I actively told homophobic jokes, laughed at homophobic jokes and encouraged the use of slurs I didn’t stand up for queer people. I used to think being gay was bad and being trans was sick I don’t think I knew that non-binary was a thing, but I would have laughed at anyone trying to tell me there were more than two genders I used to feel disgusted at trans women I mercylessly used queerness as a punchline in jokes I used to desperately kling to gender norms and basically made fun of anyone who defied those Like I remember how wrong it felt when we played family at preschool and a boy wanted to be the mum, it was weird and wrong to me. And I then I used to think that gender wasn’t really a thing at all just because my expericene with it was?? basically
And it’s not my parents fault I was a douchy kid. They didn’t give a single fuck when my brother and I played with my Barbies, or with his Lego. They didn’t care when we both dressed up as princesses or as pirates, or when I painted his nails bright pink (because he wanted me to). It was always me who was an asshole and abusive. And gosh I was an agressive kid, I loved to scuffle and sword fight with sticks while at the same time thinking it was wrong because that’s what boys and only boys do. I definatley didn’t have a rough childhood or anything, it was just me.
Basically, I was a total bag of dicks until I was, probably, 14, when I couldn’t escape the reality of my queerness anymore. I still did some of the things then, but it had more of a bitter aftertaste and I had fallen madly in love with a girl I knew for like a week before never seeing her again. I was probably in love with my female best friend before that, since I was 12, but didn’t really know since “girls can only have crushes on boys”. There was this game, Pflicht, Wahl oder Wahrheit, kind of like truth or dare, and the standard question was always “which boy do you have a crush on right now?” and i just couldn’t comprehend the concept of that. I read in magazines how it should feel like to have a crush on a boy, and it just didn’t happen? I tried making myself fall in love and pretended to, but you can’t just force these things, obviously.  And I got never picked on as a kid, I would have been the perfect victim, shy, quiet, fat, ugly,..., but I guess I was just lucky. And my class all the way through school was great.
Anyways, I was fourteen and I knew I was gay, it still sounded disgusting in my head, and had a crush on a girl I hadn’t seen in months. I started isolating myself and simply not talking to anyone in my class and hiding at the bathroom in the breaks just to avoid people. I don’t think I was depressed then, but I think that’s where it started, even though it took years to reach peak crisis. With 15, i still wasn’t out to anybody irl even though i read an watched a lot of things about sexuality and finally kind of stared to accept this part of myself. Then, in 10th grade, I did a foreign high school year in the USA. I was randomly placed in Ohio, with a hyper conservative family, i don’t think i need say more. During my first month, I subtly asked my host mother what she thought about homosexuality, and she straight up told me “I don’t like gay people”. Great, obviously coming out wasn’t happening there. I saw the humorous side ot this, sometimes, when I felt like a undercover liberal queer spy who is for health care and likes Obama more than bush.  I wrote so many emails to friends without sending them, about me being gay. I couldn’t even say the word lesbian without feeling weird. During that time, I also started to self harm seriously. And even though I wasn’t out to anyone, I was bullied for being gay by two girls during lunch. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t deny being gay, so I just sat quietly and told no one about anything.
When I got home things got a little better, I chopped of my hair and died it red and loved it. I came out to two friends, and slowly to others as well. They were all super accepting. I had my first (and only for now) girlfriend at 16 and came out to my parents, who of course didn’t mind and kind of knew before. I still cried, and I love them to death.  So everything should have been fine at that point exept it wasn’t and I was a depressed self-harming suicidal mess until I attempted suicide in September 2015 when I was 17. Then I was locked up in a psychiatry for 3 months.  Even after that I was too broken to continue school, since the pressure and especially one of the teachers were the main reason for my mental health issues. So I was a high school drop out and i still feel ashamed for that, one year later. Mental health issues make everything harder.  And even though my internalized homophobia was not the only reason, it definately contibruted to the mess i was.
Again, I have never been bullied by my Austrian class mates (the asshole ohio girls were not at home) but still my class teacher appearently thought my issues and the reason i dropped out was because of bullying and scolded my class mates for being mean. When I heard that, months later, I felt super guilty these guys have never done anything wrong to me in their life! 
That’s where schools go wrong, they say bullying wiill not be tolerated and don’t do anything to help victims of bullying, and accuse students of bullying when the actual reason other students feel down is just school itself.
In fall of 2016, I went to New Zealand for three months and volunteered in environmental protection, and this was the most healing thing I could have done. Seriously, no amount of therapy or medication could compare to knowing I am doing something for the planet, for the future. Of course that’s not for everybody, but for me it was the best possible thing to happen
So I’m in an allright place right now, not cured, but okay for the most part. I can say i am happy being gay and wouldn’t trade it for the world.
I have also started to accept my queerness on another level, the gender queer level. I identify as non-binary, that might change, but i’m fairly comfortable with it.
Right now I am in a weird dysphoric mood (yeah who would have guessed?) and feel really bad about my chest. I need to buy a binder. I felt so uncomfortable with my fat curvy body for the last few days. And binding with a wide belt and bandages is not healthy, I know, but I need to do something to be able to look in the mirror!
I think my picking at the girl with small breasts stemmed from jealousy, same with picking on my brother for doing traditionally feminine things. I wanted to not be a girl so bad all my life, all the signs were there, but I just pushed it into the back of my head and acted like the ignorant assholes i hate today.
One of my fondest, little childhood memories was when i was probably just 6 years old, and had short hair and basically looked like a little boy. My brother’s preschool teacher once thought I actually was a boy and asked my brother about his “brother”, refering to me when i went with my mother to pick him up form preschool. And hearing this stranger calling me “boy” was just a feeling of total bliss, I was so excited and happy because I was not called a girl. Unfortunately my mother corrected her. 
I grew my hair out and had long hair consistently for 10 years until I cut it off again. At first it was a feminine pixie cut, now it’s basically a men’s haircut. I don’t even go to a hair dresser, my mum cuts mine, my father’s, and my brother’s hair, which is great, because I hate going to hair dresser. 
I sometimes get “misgendered” in public and it’s still great, I just love being perceived as masculine (well when I’m feeling and presenting that way, but when I’m not I don’t get misgendered, at least I haven’t yet). I think it’s called gender euphoria, and love that word.
I haven’t completely figured out either my sexuality or my gender identity so I just identify as queer. I’m out as a lesbian to my friends and family, I don’t know when I will be able to talk to them about my gender identity/pronouns. Especially because there isn’t a pronoun in German I feel as comfortable with as “they/their”. 
And sometimes I still wake up and think “maybe I’m just faking it for attention, maybe I’m just a neurotypical, straight, cis girl who wants to feel like a special snowflake on the internet” even though straight and cis and girl feel so wrong that I feel as uncomfortable saying them as I used to feel uncomfortable saying “lesbian”. Well maybe I always knew that I wasn’t really a lesbian. The words I love now are queer, non-binary, and gay. And using/hearig them doensn’t make me anxious or uncomfortable. I just started smiling typing them. I am happy with these words, maybe just for now, maybe forever. 
TL;DR My internalized homophobia and transphobia and lack of understanding of myself and my sexuality turned me into a depressed asshole, and I hope to attone for these sins by being the queer person I am without feeling guilty.
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Prince Charming: A Historical Romp Through Masculinity, Marriage, and Bad Haircuts
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“And then he realized the doll wasn’t completely inflated.”
NOTE: Illustrations and gifs do not belong to me.
Ah, the perfect man, riding gallantly on a white horse, cape billowing in the wind, armor blinding in the sunlight—and he's on his way to find you, gentle reader!  This is supposed to be what we want, and I don't just mean women, but I mean general audiences.  The handsome prince saving the day is one of the oldest and arguably most satisfying endings there is.
While the term “Prince Charming” itself wasn't coined until 1889 in an English translation of the French fairy tale The Blue Bird, the idea of a noble man rescuing a damsel (usually a princess) from some unholy terror is as old as time, categorized as “princess and dragon tales” by folklorists.  Andromeda in Greek mythology has to be saved by Perseus from the kraken.  Sita in The Ramayana has to be saved by Rama.  In a Norwegian tale, not one but three princesses have to be saved from a troll, the youngest getting the guy in true fairy tale fashion.
This was...a very broad concept, I'll admit, and I almost decided not to do it, but the idea of the ideal man coming along and giving the heroine her happy ending has adapted over time like anything else, and your reliable ol' folklore researcher is here to guide you through it!
As True a Story as Fargo
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“I rang the dinner bell fifteen minutes ago. Are you two still fighting?”
The tale of Saint George and the Dragon has been around since at least the eleventh century telling the story of a town needing to feed the nearby lake dragon two sheep a day to keep it from destroying their village—a scaly, supernatural Mafia situation. When that no longer appeases the dragon, the village assumes this means it wants the taste of human flesh and starts a lottery, the “winner” getting to sacrifice one of their children. Well, one day, the lottery winner is the princess. Dressed as a bride, she is led out into the forest to wait for the dragon.
In the first version I read of this, the princess volunteered to sacrifice herself for the good of her people, but I digress. We'll talk about women's agency here and there. Saint George comes across the princess and subsequently the dragon. Ordering the princess to give him her girdle, she does so and Saint George places it around the beast's neck. From here on out, the dragon follows the princess around like a dog on a leash. Saint George takes his new, unique entourage back to the village and offers to kill the dragon if the townspeople convert to Christianity. Fifteen thousand men convert. Take that, modern evangelism.
While Saint George and the Dragon is largely allegory, it falls in perfectly with the big medieval trend of courtly love. In a nutshell, courtly love is a way to make love both passionate and disciplined. Romantic love hadn't really been covered in literature up until now, Beowulf not really having to deal with having to juggle two prom dates.
It's hard to explain what courtly love is without saying “emo.” Think of love the way a teenager might see it. Not seething with jealously? It's not love. Your feelings aren't ruining your appetite? Not love. This was more or less a series of rules and concepts that dictated how romantic love was supposed to be. A man's good character makes him worthy of love. You should turn pale when your lover is around. Women should grieve for at least two years before allowing themselves to love again. It is not proper to love a woman you would be ashamed to marry, etc. Perhaps the most noteworthy thing about courtly love is that there isn't that big an emphasis on love being returned. When a man falls for a woman, he should do nice things for her and just hope that one day she'll love him, too. Unrequited love was pretty romanticized. You can get a really nice feel for it in The Cantebury Tales' “The Knight's Tale.”
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No.  That’s something else.  “The Knight's Tale” is much more long-winded and has no Queen songs.  That, and it's one of the least funny tales.  Thank goodness for the Miller and his story that involves farting in people's faces. Anyway, the tale is all about two imprisoned knights who fall in love with Princess Emily at first sight and spend the rest of the time fighting over her and praying to Roman gods to marry her...while she prays to Diana to either stay single or marry someone who truly loves her.    It's not as fun as other tales, mainly because the Knight has a tendency to get off-topic, but if you want textbook courtly love, read that.
So what do these stories tell us about people's version of the ideal man in the Middle Ages?
1. Competent.  A real man gets things done.
2. Decisive. A real man does not stew on the morality of killing dragons.
3. Protective. Sombody’s gotta look out for these women who are inferior to men in every way, amirite?
4. Upper Class. Peasant men might not have had much time to rescue damsels. And the Peasants Respond!
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Just a tad predatory looking. All he needs to do is sit on her chest while a random horse watches...
While fiction in the Middle Ages really enjoyed its daring sword fights and unrequited love, peasants in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries told tales to children with a far different purpose—don't go into the woods.  For the love of God, don't go into the woods, don't make deals with the devil, and don't run afoul of the fairy folk.  This might seem funny, but for peasants living in or around the Black Forest of Germany, this was no laughing matter.  Think how many fairy tales are more about being suspicious of suspicious-looking people than romantic love.  Keep in mind, too, that there is little to no chance of upward mobility in this kind of society.  If you're a peasant, your kids are going to be peasants, marry peasants, and produce little peasants of their own.  It's even worse if you're a farmer and your family's prosperity depends wholly on how well your crops do.  How can you get ahead in life?
1. Go off the grid and become a pirate/bandit/thief
2. Learn alchemy and hope for the best
3. Join the church and live in a cubicle for the rest of your life
4. Marry up.
The stories collected by the Brothers Grimm took royalty and made it the ultimate reward.  In most of their stories, if the protagonist (male or female) is clever enough to outsmart the villain and/or kind enough to listen to cleverer people who know how to outsmart the villain, they are usually rewarded with a prince or a princess at the end.  There really isn't much disparity in how often the reward is a princes vs. a princess.
I won't go into much detail in what all these stories are about, but if you haven't ever heard of “The Three Spinners,” “Cinderella,” “The Six Swans,” “Snow White,” “Snow White and Rose Red,” or “The Peasant's Wise Daughter,” you might be surprised to learn that the protagonist(s) is a plucky, kind-hearted, usually skilled maiden and her reward is a prince. For all the crap fairy tales get for being chauvinistic, it's jarring that the most memorable characters are all female.
So jarring, Charles Perrault decided to make a few changes.
In the late 1600s, fairy tales started becoming appealing to the rich, and like all good things the poor come up with, the rich people took it over and added a bunch of rules.  Many upper class French men and women had heard these peasant tales and saw them as potential for witty conversation in the salons. I like me some stimulating conversation, but I also know when not to mess with the original.  With courtly love also coming back into vogue, the stories evolved into elegant, romantic tales with a heavily-hammered-in moral at the end.  Less blood and fewer trees. The forest became a more pastoral setting, or even a city.  The peasant protagonists became gentry or displaced royalty.  And marriage became a big, big deal.
When in the Middle Ages, the prince figure was usually a knight a man of action, these were unquestionably princes, their refinement and sophistication as highly valued as their masculinity.  Beauty and the Beast started as sort of a fable for arranged marriages, that the guy you end up with may not fit your definition of handsome, but if you look deep enough, you'll find something lovable.
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“Forgot my keys--oh.”
Okay, so you might not find something lovable, but the Beast is no less an extremely romantic (read: emo) character.  He asks Beauty every night to marry him, gives her his estate and possessions and invisible servants with no questions asked, and literally cannot live without her as he begins wasting away when she leaves to visit her family.  And of course, he's a prince that pissed off the wrong fairy.
It is in this same era that Perrault tweaked the Cinderella story.  The Grimms told a story of Cinderella's dead mother supplying her a gown and other ball-related necessities via tree, but Perrault creates a “fairy godmother” who pops in at the last minute to help Cinderella go to the ball—a place where she might be able to catch a husband and escape her bad home life—but never appeared before to use her benevolent magic to stop the girl's stepmother and stepsisters from abusing her. Perrault also cut out the stepsisters cutting off parts of their feet to try to fit into the slipper, preferring to have Cinderella turn the other cheek and find desirable husbands for them instead.  
We're going from the clever, talented heroines in the Grimm stories to waifs who are damned if they do, damned if they don't.  If you're pure and sheltered like Sleeping Beauty, you'll still fall into a hundred-year coma.  And if you're naughty...well, this time a woodcutter has to come cut Red Riding Hood out of the Wolf's stomach...then fill said stomach with stones. This kind of undoes Perrault's moral about not trusting strangers since this woodcutter never appears in the story at any other time, but we can't have a morally susceptible female rescuing herself, can we?  Even Bluebeard downplays the heroine's character to uplift the prince's/nobleman's. Bluebeard's a freakin' serial killer and yet Perrault's text blames the wife for the situation, that if she just had refrained from being too curious, her husband wouldn't be trying to kill her for finding out about all his previous wives.  
“Princes went from chivalrous to serial killers?”
Not quite, but the heroines were rarely given personalities and the princes were the rescuers, the real movers and shakers in the story. Princes went on adventures and rescued future brides.  In 1706, the first English translation of One Thousand and One Nights told the West the story of Prince Ahmed, who a nifty magic tent that could expand to the point where it could hold armies and contract to the point where he could put it in his pocket.  He also happens to buy a magic healing apple and saves a princess with it.  There are a number of strong, three-dimensional female characters, but the princes all get to be active and go on adventures.  There is also a robot.  I'm not joking. But a huge double standard is that women are foolish and selfish and cheating on their husbands with a Moor is the worst thing ever, but the men in the story (princes included) sleep around, hit women, and even Sinbad murders a bunch of innocent people for food, but the male characters are rarely punished in these stories.  The whole fictional reasons these stories exist also lauds men; the Sultan is worried about being cheated on, so he kills every wife he has.  Scheherazade, the newest wife, is creative and clever and tells stories that always leave the Sultan wanting more, so he spares her life, choosing to keep her after a thousand and one nights.  The Sultan lives happily ever after, madly in love with an intended murder victim.  
So let’s see how things have changed?
1. Competent?  Check.
2. Decisive?  Check.
3. Upper Class?  More check than ever.
4. Protective?
Protection adapted, didn't it?  Protection stopped being more about keeping women away from beasts and more about providing for women.  The men in these stories are not only filthy rich—which is its own kind of protection—but they are also morally guiding these women and keeping them alive.  Bluebeard's wife is rescued by her brothers at the end, but Perrault says the moral of the story is that curiosity can lead to deep regret.  He then goes on to talk about how “clearly” this story takes place a long time ago as, “No husband would be so terrible as to demand the impossible of his wife.”  How the hell is that the issue when the man's a serial killer???  What does curiosity have to do with the very first wife???
We're going to throw in another value here.  Wise.
Think about it. Cinderella's prince immediately seeks her out, seeing her as no one has seen her before, as appealing. The “Marquis” in Puss in Boots is in reality a simple miller's son, but the Cat is so worldly and clever that he more than makes up for it. The woodcutter is a fatherly figure who heard Red Riding Hood's cries for help and knew exactly what to do and took her home to her mother. Even Bluebeard, who sets his wives up for failure and has a room full of tortured corpses is entitled to test his wife and keep this horrendous secret, his only crime being that he “asked the impossible of his wife,” which translates to, “asked his wife not to be too curious about her own home, lest she find the room of tortured corpses.”
Yin and Yang
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Hamlet: I said I wanted the grave to be dug under a weeping willow tree on the edge of a cliff perpetually surrounded by mist!  How hard is that?
Gravedigger: But this is where the cemetery is, sir.
Hamlet: (to skull) Can you believe this guy?
Hamlet, first performed in 1605 is not anything all that special, but so many tote it as Shakespeare's masterpiece.  My theory is that that is all propaganda on the part of actors.  Getting to play Hamlet is like being written a blank check—the actor can do with the role whatever he wants because it is sooooo ambiguous!  You don't even know how old Hamlet's supposed to be, as he's a student in medieval Denmark, which would put him in his late teens, but the gravedigger says Hamlet's 30.  Hamlet seems slightly more upset about his mother remarrying than having learned his father was murdered, but he also goes berserk a few times at people who aren't involved in his father's murder at all, and while Claudius, the villain, murders one person (in back story) and angsts about it for the rest of the play, Hamlet himself gets quite the body count and shows little to no remorse about it.  
Does the fact that Hamlet is a prince have to do with this role often being the peak of an actor's career?  Why do we think an actor who can play Hamlet well can do anything?  Hamlet's not really enough of a jerk that it's Villain Sympathy.  In fact, Hamlet is one of the least proactive protagonists in literature.  The majority of the play is him wondering what he should do.  Should he listen to this ghost that claims to be his father?  Should he tell any of his friends what's going on?  Should he kill Claudius when he finds out that, yes, the guy did kill his dad?  Should he leave his mom out of it, or was she involved?  To be or not to be?  
But to the mainstream, Hamlet is the guy who holds the skull and waxes poetic while sword fighting in period dress.  Somehow, him just sitting on this supernatural order to avenge his father's death has been twisted to where we've decided it's the role of a lifetime.  Shakespeare wrote other characters who were princes, but none of them were as prominent or as over-analyzed as Hamlet.  
Does Hamlet have any good qualities?  Well, of course, or the play would have been a complete flop.  He's magnetic.  He's smart, snarky, and unsure of himself.  But then you have Ophelia, his love interest.  Whereas Hamlet is defined by his struggle to be decisive, Ophelia just lets her father and brother make decisions for her.  She is dutiful, she has no idea that Hamlet is pretending to be crazy for some of the play (or maybe he is crazy.  So much ambiguity), and when her brother leaves, Hamlet seemingly rejects her from out of nowhere, her father is killed and her lover banished, she goes off the deep end.
Therefore, it seemed like what was going on is that women were losing more and more of their credibility while royal men could afford the luxuries of indecision here and there so long as they still fit all the other criteria.
Hammer It Further In, Victorians!
The Victorians might just be my favorite historical group of people. They're a psychological delight.  Not that they were as repressed as pop culture makes them out to be, but they were all about restraint when it came to deviant behaviors and ideas, often disguising them. In the Victorian era, the hero stopped being the centerpiece of the story.  Most of the care, detail, and time went into the villain. Dracula, Sweeney Todd, Spring Heeled Jack, Frankenstein, Dorian Grey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and just about the rest of the cast of Penny Dreadful were the ones driving the plot of their respective stories, the ones the authors paid the most attention to.  Often, they were pitted against an innocent heroine, like Christine in The Phantom of the Opera and Mina in Dracula, but there was an edge to them.  Both Christine and Mina might surprise readers in how deadpan and genre-savvy both these women are, and while they don't physically vanquish their beasts, they play key roles.
So where does this leave the prince?
The role of the home in the Victorian era became more significant than ever before.  A man's home was his castle.  His job was to make it a safe haven; his family's job was to make it a domestic ideal.  Again, the ideal man was a protector, someone who could keep his wife and children safe from beasts (poor people, people who didn't speak English, Irishmen, etc.), but also protect them morally.  It's kind of easy to be seduced by the list of villains I put on here, isn't it?  They're just as rich as princes, sometimes handsome, often decisive and passionate...and maybe therein lies the problem.  The ideal man was not yet passionately in love with the heroine.  
“What do you call all that courtly love business?”
Isn't that more in love with the idea of being in love?  Honestly, you pick a random woman, say you'll do great things for her whether she loves you or not, but at the end of the day, you're the one getting the credit for doing those brave deeds and she'll be seen as ungrateful because you've never even had a conversation with her to tell her how you feel.  Loving a woman in the sense that you physically desire her while still desiring her friendship wasn't happening yet.  In a society that didn't encourage women to be open about their own passions, the men also weren't really allowed to do much that wouldn't result in a scandal.  He was supposed to treat his wife more like an employee than the object of his affection.  He could praise her skills at mothering and running a household, and maybe she could play a mean tune on the pianoforte, but none of her skills were supposed to be superior to his own.  The princes and heroes of the Victorian age were as bland as all get-out because everybody wanted to live vicariously through the more passionate villains.  
Well, film changed how we view the devil.  Did it change how we view Prince Charming?
Who Would Have Thought Melodrama was Boring?
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Now, to be fair, not all these guys are princes, but I would be remiss if I was going to talk about princes in film and omit Disney's contribution.  For a long time, Disney animators had difficulty animating human men, and it shows.  Remember that short, Goddess of Spring?  Even though her arms are boneless, she looks like a passable female human. The god of the Underworld, though?  It looks like an old-time Mardi Gras mask.  
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs premiered in 1937, the same year that the Prince Valiant comic strip did, and both princes are given next to no personalities.  Snow White's prince doesn't even get a name!  Please stop saying Snow White is objectified when it's her prince that is treated as nothing more than a goal and subsequently a reward.
“But his heroism is just supposed to be accepted because he's a man and he's royal!”
Is it?  Disney animators tried to work around the lack of princely influence in the Grimm version by writing a subplot about the Evil Queen capturing the Prince and him escaping...but animating a realistic-looking man was just too hard for them.  We don't care about him or look at him like a person.  He's Snow White's reward.  Nothing more.
Cinderella's prince, officially the “Prince Charming” of Disney canon, is also objectified.  He has maybe three lines?  He isn't even there when Cinderella puts on the slipper?  His dad is given more screen time than him?  
Notice that, in keeping with the Victorian melodramas and silent movie traditions, the movies that have the most boring princes have very engaging, very passionate villains.  The Evil Queen, the Wicked Stepmother, and Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty are given richer animation, more distinctive voice actors, and a deliciously evil charm, that, so far, the princes just can't top.  They remained fairly quiet with their heroism just a given.  Around this same time, Laurence Olivier won an Oscar for 1948's Hamlet, the only time an Oscar was given to someone playing a Shakespearean character.  So it seemed like the prince was still relatively unexplored.  “He's a prince!  Must be a great guy.”
Not all princes in early Hollywood were bland, but there was a kind of leading man that got a lot more action, both in the cinematic and romantic sense—the rogue.
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In the 30s and 40s, it was more common for the hero of a movie to be anything but a prince.  He was a hard-boiled private detective, a thief (usually of the Robin Hood variety), or a pirate, as swashbuckling dramas were big back then. Princes, therefore, started becoming a little buffoonish.  The ideal man in the 50s was, oddly, the family man.  The prince had changed to the ruler of a suburban home, still retaining all the traits we've mentioned before, only Ward Cleaver (Leave it to Beaver), Steve Douglas (My Three Sons), Ozzie Nelson (The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet), and Andy Taylor (The Andy Griffith Show) all upheld values most of Middle America agreed with and added a truly positive item to our list:
1. Competent
2. Decisive
3. Upper Class-ish (rise of the middle class!)
4. Wise
5. They Want to be Dads
Parody Ensues
The 60s changed a lot of things, how princes are portrayed among them. While the Prince Valiant comic strip was still going strong, people began wondering if this Prince Charming ideal was really a positive thing.  Wasn't the upper-to-middle class white guy the enemy of the Civil Rights Movement?  Wasn't the patriarchal figurehead oppressing and dismissing women?  Were these guys—gasp--just like everyone else in that they're fallible and sometimes do stupid or misguided things? Jeez, these Prince Charmings (Princes Charming?) must all be doofuses when you peel back the veneer.  Isn't that how princes are in real life?
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When Royalty Smiles...
In 1973, Jay Williams wrote the children's book Petronella, and it fit right in with the Women's Movement.  Eager to seek her fortune, Petronella sets out into the world like her brothers and learns about a prince held captive by a wizard named Albion.  Albion says she must prove herself by completing certain fairytale-esque tasks, she does so through kindness and wit, and—spoiler alert—she and Albion fall in love.  Turns out, the prince is just a house guest that won't leave.  I can't find the cover art for the back of the book, but the prince looks like a Monty Python character.
In this same year, there was another book out there with a prince who was deceptively appealing.  William Goldman wrote The Princess Bride and later adapted it for the screen in 1987.  The only person who starts out as royalty in the book is Prince Humperdinck, and that name alone should tell you this isn't someone to take seriously.  Sure, he's competent, noted in the film for being an excellent tracker, and he's quite the mastermind, but he's also the villain!  The whole reason he plans to marry Buttercup is so he can kill her on their wedding night and frame another kingdom for it so he can get a war!  Buttercup's True Love is actually a former farm boy named Westley who is doing a stint as the Dread Pirate Roberts.  Humperdinck doesn't stand a chance.
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I do like Chris Sarandon's performance.  He brings such dignity to it, which actually makes it more fun.  
As if pop culture wasn't dropping the anvil fast enough that Prince Charmings weren't all they were cracked up to be, Stephen's Sondheim's Into the Woods gave us Cinderella's Prince and Rapunzel's Prince, and the line, “I was raised to be charming, not sincere,” says it all.  Who would have thought a musical about interconnecting fairy tales would have so much innuendo (it's pretty uncomfortable seeing certain parts of this with children, let me tell you), adultery, psychological abuse, and character deaths?  It was finally filmed in 2014 and satirizes these angst-ridden overly-masculine types with the song “Agony:”
We're going to talk about one more before we get an interesting counterpoint to all this parody. Ladies and gentlemen, Prince Charming from the Shrek universe:
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Forget the fact he looks like Jaime from Game of Thrones.  Rupert Everett's Prince Charming is a spoiled, prissy snob whose mother is none other than the Fairy Godmother, the brains behind the operation. Seriously, the movie where Prince Charming takes the lead as the Big Bad is terrible.  There isn't much to say about the role even though it's entertaining except that it just goes to the other extreme.  Prince Charming is decisive about not letting an ogre be with the woman that was promised to him, and he does seem competent at horseback riding and doing the tango, but he's whiny, preens a little too much for traditional manly men, and, most importantly, is okay with forcing Fiona to be with her against her will.  
“But, but, but, if the Prince Charming archetype is just an illusion, what kind of man can we have faith in?”
Well, I would say the rogue as in most movies, he proves to be a hero underneath the snark and scruff, but that's another meta (see The Unscrupulous Hero meta).  This brings up a good point—at least these parodies of princes are characters.  They have personalities and arcs.  You can call them a lot of things but you can't call them bland.  Prince Charming up until now has been a construct, a goal, a reward. Everything but a real person. 
Evolution!
Bringing it back to the Disney princes, 1989 responded to all these unworthy princes with Prince Eric in The Little Mermaid.  I consider him the prototype prince since he is substantially given more to do and emote than the previous princes ever were, but he's still kind of vanilla.  Eric likes being out on a ship, longing for a life at sea while Ariel longs for a life on land.  Hmm.  He plays the flute, totally doesn't mind doing the messier tasks a crewman on a ship would do, and the film goes out of its way to show that he is brave and not one to be messed with.  He saves his dog from a fire and harpoons a giant octopus woman.  He hangs out with Ariel, has fun when she’s around, and this was one of the first Disney movies that introduced some chemistry between the human leads.
After Eric came the Beast, Aladdin, and Simba, and while Aladdin is by far the most fleshed-out of these characters, these prince figures were given something Eric didn't have—pain.  Disney's Beast isn't proposing to Belle every night like in the original fairy tale.  We don't meet him as a romantic lead, but as a broken chimera despairing that his entire life seems to be defined by one bad choice.  Simba may not be the most interesting character, but there is a moment in the movie where he starts yelling at the sky (read: his dead father) about Mufasa not being there for him and then just breaks down in tears and cries, “It's my fault.”  Good lord, you feel for him there as much as you do when he's a little cub shaking his dead father in hopes of awakening him.  
Prince Naveen in The Princess and the Frog is not your grandmother's prince.  It's almost a full-out comedic role as Naveen is...kind of a bum.  He's a prince, but he's lazy, so his parents have cut him off, leaving him to either get a job and work for a living, or marry a rich woman.  Ha ha, Naveen just wants to play the ukelele, enjoy New Orleans' night life, and pick the richest of his many admirers to marry.  After he falls for Tiana, he doesn't change all that much.  He is willing to work for something and can buckle down, but he's still that funny, enthusiastic guy you want to be friends with.  He isn't diminished in his relationship with her. Nor is she.  Naveen can get Tiana to loosen up, and while the plot of The Princess and the Frog is needlessly complex here and there, the romance is very strong and their banter is right up there with all the great movie romance banter.
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D’awww!
Counterpoint to a Counterpoint
Oh, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, I'm onto you, what with your romantic-comedy shtick.  To this day I am torn as to whether or not the twist to make him the villain was a good one or not.  On the one hand, it gives his character a reason for being in the story, and it's a realistic lesson that trusting everyone is just as bad as trusting no one.  However, what's the goofy little smile at the end of the clip all about?  Does he genuinely like Anna but still plans to somehow take over the throne?  Is that just how he smiles when he tweaks his own schemes?  His original plan was just to marry Elsa, but now it seems like, “Well, I can marry the cute, funny girl instead and just kill the aloof one.  Win-win.”  
“Psychopaths don't wear t-shirts saying 'You're with Psychopath' on them.”
Very true, and a commonality many psychopaths share in real life is that they are, you guessed it, charming.  They know how to attract people to them.  Unfortunately, though, things like empathizing with those people and putting those people before themselves are not really feasible things for a psychopath to do.  But then again, we are talking about film here, not real life, so is it a cheat that they made him the villain seemingly out of nowhere?  Weren't we supposed to be given some hints about his true nature since this is a story?
If you ask Disney, they did disperse clues here and there that Hans was not what he seemed.  He wears gloves, for example.  Did you know gloves are a visual shorthand for villain?  Never mind that most of Hans' screentime is either at a ball in which gloves would have been fashionably appropriate or when it's, you know, cold outside. Another thing they refer fans to is that in the song “Love is an Open Door,” Hans' lines about “finding his own place” and agreeing that Anna's “sandwiches” response to his “We finish each other's ____” was what he was going to say are indicative that he's stringing her along.  Okaaaayyyy.  
“But if you were taken in, isn't that the point?  Nobody knowingly gets involved with a psychopath.”
Yeah, but this is all so vague.  Consider that while Elsa is the queen and Anna is the princess, they are way too busy dealing with their own problems to actually rule Arendelle or do anything to help all the innocent people suddenly plagued by an unexpected winter.
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Look at this!  Doesn't this just muddle things more?  Hans is the one handing out blankets and inviting the subjects to the castle where he makes it a point to say it's warm there and they've got plenty of hot food for everyone.  We're making the villain the only character in the entire thing who does any damage relief?  I'm sure this is probably a “catch more flies with honey than vinegar thing” as the truly logical person would conclude that Hans is just trying to win over the peasants so they don't revolt when he takes things over, and I know that being homicidal doesn't necessarily preclude anyone from being a great ruler, but come on!  
I guess the point the movie is trying to make with Hans is that you can meet a guy who seems great on paper and fits all the items on the checklist we've been keeping track of, but he can still turn out to be a jerk.  And I will say that Disney has tried the “surprise villain reveal” thing in a few of its other movies that came out after this, but this one handled that the best.
The New Wave
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I can't say 2015's Cinderella is better than the 1950 version, but one thing it did that I admire was that it made Prince Charming a person. Prince Kit (I would have named him something else, but I digress) has his doubts that he can be as good a king as his father. Richard Madden gets to actually act as he not only has to be a little restless in his role, but also gets to express grief. He had said that the challenge of playing the Prince is to make sure that Cinderella is not seen as being lucky to get a prince, but that this prince is lucky to have found her.
We have an earlier example of this with 1998's Ever After. Prince Henry (Dougray Scott) is a very reluctant prince and shirks his duties whenever he can. It is Danielle (Drew Barrymore) who changes his way of thinking in that he can do so much good with the power that he has, and it is his obligation to do so. He listens to her, respects her, it's clear that he also physically wants her, and the two get plenty of time to get to know one another. His reaction when the princess he's betrothed to starts wailing is priceless because it's so in-character and there's even Leonardo DaVinci thrown in the movie for fun...a very charming movie indeed.
Artie Hammer is also a good prince, Prince Alcott in Mirror, Mirror. About the only good thing in that, actually. I didn't feel it was dark enough to be a Snow White story, but Snow White and the Huntsman didn't have enough joy to be a Snow White story (or enough actual dwarves playing the parts). Again, the Prince gets to be funny, gets to be a bit political as his whole reason for going to this kingdom in the first place is to meet with the Queen (Julia Roberts being horribly miscast). I don't appreciate the amount of ogling this otherwise children's movie does to the poor actor, but for the most part, he's a character in his own right. Maybe soon he'll pick some better projects that don't have him upstaged by a guy pretending to be a Native American like in The Lone Ranger.
But my all-time favorite Prince Charming has to go to Josh Dallas' David “Charming” Nolan on Once Upon a Time.
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“Attention, everyone!  I know magical shenanigans are ruining all your lives, but you have to be in the background while the show focuses on my family's drama! For goodness sake, pull yourselves together and be the comic relief!”
Charming is pretty much everything we've covered so far, and you can see the historical detail they put into developing his character.  This prince started life as a shepherd, a commoner who, by some magical deals that don't merit this meta, must pose as a prince.  He gets to be one for real after he marries Snow White, but the crafted him to be a farmer-type guy.  He drives a pickup truck.  He wears a lot of flannel.  He's sometimes old-fashioned with his flaws as he can be overly protective and quick to judge, but he's also quick to change his opinion when he's proven wrong.  
Charming is deceptively easy to understand, and I don't mean that he's an airhead or a parody of what he represents.  I mean that his goals in life are simple. His likes, his morals—they're all simple, even his fears.  The man's greatest fear is that he isn't a good dad.  That's so relatable since every parent has wondered that about themselves, but it's fresh and unique when it's applied to Prince Charming, a “character” far more defined by offscreen heroics than being a member of a family.  In the very first episode, he's taking on three swordsmen while holding his infant daughter.  That's the character in a nutshell. 
It's a role that's a little underwritten, but like Hamlet, that sometimes means you can do some amazing things with it.  OUAT is full of polarizing characters, but Charming is not one of them.  He's universally loved, and that has everything to do with how convincingly Josh Dallas plays him, especially that he is able to play a father to an actress technically older than him playing his daughter.
Even when he doesn't have much to say, Josh Dallas brings so many fatherly gestures and facial expressions to the part.  That might be why the show has given him more and more to do as it's gone on.  It's a new take on the Prince Charming construct, isn't it—that all the sword-fighting, arrow-shooting, horseback riding, face-punching, and villain-confronting this guy does is for his family?  
His relationship with Snow on this show is sort of the measuring stick to which all other romantic relationships are compared to, and I wouldn't even say “Snowing” is the main romance.  While Snow gives Charming some much-needed direction, he gives her confidence. There are so many moments when Snow is doubting herself that Charming is the one to build her back up.  His belief that his wife can do anything is the foundation of True Love, and I don't mean that he sees her through rose-tinted glasses.  They are partners. One gets the sense that they rule together, whether it be in the flashbacks in the Enchanted Forest, or how they handle the town's problems in the present. 
So I would say our checklist is looking more like this:
1. Is a complex human being with positive (competent, decisive, wise, willing to parent) and some flaws to stay interesting
2. Has respect and admiration for his love and their relationship has a healthy dose of friendship in it
But if I were to just list all of Charming's traits—good and bad—or anything other well-written character in any medium—the list might just go on and on.  It's that way with real-life personalities, and opinions will vary on what the ideal man or woman is like.  Prince Charming is no longer an archetype or a plot point but a person, a real person who is inspired to do his best for love at the same time he inspires the person he loves to do their best.  Life is hard, and it's hard to find someone to share it with, but the fact that fiction is emphasizing these aspects is so positive.
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holaafrica · 6 years
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New Post has been published on http://holaafrica.org/lets-talk-about-femmes/
Let's Talk About Femmes
In this post, some of the sexualities I mention may be yours or they might not. Some of the pronouns I use may be yours or they might not. You might not relate with some of the terms I use, such as ‘gay’ and might prefer ‘queer’. I ask that you read this with an open mind, and replace where necessary. I do not mean to be exclusionary. Enjoy. 🙂
“But you don’t look gay.”
We were standing at the Delta bus stop, waiting for a bus. My workmate had this incredulous look on her face as if I had just made her question everything she thought she knew. My head was darting around, looking at her face then looking at the road to see if any bus was coming our way. People were milling around, walking past us, boarding matatus, disappearing. Touts were shrieking at us to board their matatus. Drivers were blaring their horns in encouragement. I couldn’t think over the noise. I knew she meant that I didn’t present masculinely. I wondered what gay people looked like in her head. But I didn’t ask. I laughed it off, trying desperately to change the subject because while I maintained a calm exterior, inside, all of me was panicking because I had just come out to the most religious person in our office.
We haven’t talked about it since. But her words have stayed with me. Mostly because I expect it is going to happen a lot more in the future. Somehow, in a lot of Kenyan heads, ‘lesbian’ evokes a tomboy in a baggy t-shirt and sagged jeans, probably with dreadlocks and with a deep voice to boot. I have the deep voice down, but that’s as far as the similarities end. When people look at me, they don’t see a lesbian. They see… I don’t know. But I imagine they see a healthy, fine chubby girl, with short hair and an ample chest (lol) going through life. It’s a blessing and a curse.
Being seen as ‘normal’ has enabled me to go through life without raising eyebrows. At work, at home, in church, on the streets. It means that people expect me to have a boyfriend, my aunts and uncles are waiting for me to present one. It means people always assuming I am dating a man or my exes are men. It means a simple, uncomplicated life without people asking me why I am hellbent on acting like a boy.
Honestly, I don’t give a fuck about what the people in the aforementioned paragraph think. If I could, I would let them all know that I am queer. The thing that concerns me is the feeling that I am invisible to my fellow queer people. I fear that when a woman loving woman looks at me, she might dismiss me as being straight mostly because when I also look at other women, I can never tell if they are straight or not. With masculine of center women, it’s a lot easier. When I see a masculine presenting woman, I automatically think that it is quite likely that she could be queer. Kindly note the use of ‘likely’. Don’t go out into the world thinking that all tomboys are gay.
It’s that feeling of invisibility that had me toying with the thought of switching up my look a bit. Just so people can be able to see me. A sort of silent shout that I am here. A daring haircut, a shirt, some pants, some chelsea boots… I even started a Pinterest board titled, ‘Androsexy’.
It wouldn’t be me though. And the more I thought about it, the more I figured that changing the way I dress wouldn’t mean that I would no longer be femme. Which makes me wonder: What does being femme truly mean?
As this AutoStraddle roundtable revealed, being femme means different things for different people. And there all kinds of femme: attic femmes, bruja femmes, hard femmes, tomboi femmes etc. And for every person, what being femme meant to them was different from the next person. For some it involved witchy rituals, for others, curled lashes and heels, for some it was emotional labour and tenderness while for others it was quiet strength that could kill.
What does it mean for me? Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, I like mascara as much as the next girl, I like how my boobs fill my tops and I like the lines of my skirt. But I also like that I have such tenderness and kindness and emotions inside me. I like that I cry when the movie gets sad and when the happy ending is enacted on the screen. I like taking hours doing my makeup. I like doing things that are prescribed as feminine. But does femininity equate to being femme? Also, do I like said things for any reason other than it’s what i was nurtured to like?
I don’t have the answers to that. What I know is that I am not sure I want to own the label femme. I understand the need for labels in our community and why some people would want to own some of them. But I am not sure that any label properly fits. In lieu of lugging around a label that barely covers all of me or that’s ten sizes too big, I would rather just live. Take each day as it comes and act based on whatever I am feeling that day. Femme, stemme, lipstick…whatever it will be.
Will I still change up my look? Maybe. But I would want to hope it will be because that’s how I am choosing to express myself at the moment, not because I want people to see me. Are femmes invisible? Probably. Who knows, The good thing is, there is always Twitter and Tinder and Instagram, where you can be as loudly yourself as you want to be. And you can meet other women, without having to worry about their being straight.  So I don’t have to change up anything about me, unless I want to.
What do you think?
PS: You might like this podcast by HOLAA, they talk about femme invisibility and femme flagging. There is some mention of non monogamous loving. And the accents…woosh! I’ll stop now.
Editors note: Here are some more articles A Stem Coming Out Party.  Also check out this post about lesbian rules that people need to break! There is also this piece about how femme invisibility is killing social interactions. 
Originally posted on Kenyan Baby Dyke.
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ouraidengray4 · 7 years
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What It’s Like Being Trans and Pregnant
The author, in the pool with a pretty adorable companion.
Last year, I made an appointment to talk to my priest, Father H., and nervously told him my deal: I’m transmasculine, which means I can’t lay claim to being either a woman or a man; I’m somewhere in-between. But aside from getting an undercut haircut and slimming down, my transition has been mostly spiritual and personal, not physical—hormone treatments and surgery don’t interest me because they wouldn’t affect my ability to embrace and love myself. They wouldn’t make me happier.
For me, coming out helped me to settle into my chromosomally female body. Until then, I’d spent 27 years locked in combat with my body. I wished that being feminine and being happy weren’t at odds with each other, and hoped that wearing my makeup the right way would make me into a Real Woman. But I was trying to shove myself into a woman-suit without success—because I’m simply not a woman.
When coming out to my friends and family, I felt a sense of obligation to reassure them that very little about my transition was going to affect them, but the stakes were somewhat higher with my priest: I was coming out to Father H. in preparation to have my marriage blessed in the Church.
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"Well, you did always seem sort of androgynous," Father said, absolutely zero shock or discomfort on his face. "As long as it doesn’t interfere with your attraction to Michael or your openness to having kids, I don’t see why it would be a problem in terms of marriage." Try to imagine coming out to someone—your priest, no less—and receiving a response so reflexively cool, reassuring, helpful, and accepting. This, friends, is a man who’s good at his job.
But Father H.’s reaction stands in pretty sharp contrast with most of the responses I’ve received, even from people who are allies—or even members—of the LGBT community. An ideal reaction to coming out might be, "Cool. What can I do to help?" Or, as my brilliant husband Michael put it (perfectly) the first time I told him I wasn’t a woman: "As long as you still love me."
Sadly, many people’s reactions haven’t been so compassionate. When I came out, some people seemed immediately concerned with simply projecting the right image, while others acted dismissive of my transition because I’m OK with continuing to look physically feminine and keeping my traditionally feminine name. Either way, they were too concerned with their own discomfort to be a friend.
I get it: As a culture, we’re still in the baby stages of understanding transgender identities, so a lot of people now assume that a transition happens mostly on the outside. The most public transition of basically ever has been Caitlyn Jenner’s. She’s a woman who clearly needed to go the hormones-and-surgery route, but because she’s the only example many people are familiar with, a lot of folks seem to think that all trans people must want to change their appearance.
The truth is that one’s transition begins early, in your heart and mind and soul. Interventions like hormone replacement therapy and surgery are frequently medically necessary, because they are capable of easing the debilitating emotional suffering a lot of trans people go through. But HRT and surgery can’t change who you are—they can only validate you. This works for a lot of trans people, but for others, it isn’t the right path.
Rebecca and Michael on their wedding day.
Things were just settling down when, a few months after my wedding in the church, I found out that I was pregnant. I was immediately sidelined by hyperemesis gravidarum, a titanic version of morning sickness which is—I’m fairly sure—the only thing Kate Middleton and I will ever have in common. Soon after, the body I’d always been happy with starting changing dramatically: My boobs inflated, my butt became blazing hot at night (just my butt, nothing else), and I started hating the taste of ginger and the smell of cooking oil, potatoes, and toast. I couldn’t drink water without getting sick, so I had to drink Gatorade for five straight weeks. My skin cleared up on my face but got worse on my chest and back, and I started needing to take midday naps. Inevitably, my abdomen started to protrude enough that I had to give up on my jeans and start wearing what we’ll generously call "athleisure."
It’s cool: I wanted this. Well, not exactly—Michael and I wanted kids, and I happen to be the one who has a uterus, so I’m doing us a solid and gestating a baby. I never wanted to be pregnant, because it sounded like a nightmare, and to be honest, it is. Pregnancy is an absolute nightmare that I never want to go through again. That’s the case not least of all because, on top of a physical affliction that put me in the ER three times in a week because I couldn’t eat or drink, pregnancy has forced me into the hard realization that some of my friends and family must feel that I didn’t insist on my masculinity enough, or in visible enough ways, for them to respect my transition.
It’s fine when people I don’t know well call me "a pregnant woman," or "Mommy." How could they know who I am just from looking at me? But when my loved ones, with whom I’ve had multiple conversations about my transition, suddenly default to describing me as a woman, that’s a problem. To make matters worse, some have also encouraged me to accept the more odious gender roles that people ascribe to women in general, but especially when they’re pregnant. They're not uncommon complaints, even if they affect me a little differently than pregnant people who aren't trans: submission to people violating your physical boundaries by touching you without permission or giving unwanted attention to the way you look; accepting that people will talk to you as if you’re the child, not the one carrying the child; resignation to the "fact" that your baby is now your identity; or the insistence that mothers (and otherwise female-bodied parents) must follow the very narrow, strict codes of presentation and behavior that have plagued people like Beyoncé and Kim Kardashian after they had children.
Sometimes I feel like if I’d really committed to presenting as more masculine—like if I’d started asking people to refer to me as Rex and been really particular about pronouns, started dressing in a more masculine way, or gotten medical interventions—I wouldn’t have to deal simultaneously with pregnancy and gender dysphoria. Maybe I brought this upon myself by not living up to what other people want out of a transition. But if I’d gotten hormone treatments, regardless of the fact that I didn’t want to, would it have been so easy for me to get pregnant? And isn’t what my partner and I want for our future more important than whether or not I look not masculine enough to be happy with myself but masculine enough to convince other people that, yes, I’m really trans?
Being told to defer to other people’s expectations and feeling guilty are, I’d imagine, some of the few ways in which I share the emotional experience of pregnancy that women must go through. A friend said that his family was convinced he’d been a colicky baby because his mother had eaten spicy food once during her pregnancy. (I’ve been downing hot peppers like my life depends on it... should I be worried?) My sister told me she’d overheard a woman who was so paranoid about her eating habits that she opted out of coffee for her entire pregnancy even though you’re allowed to have one cup of coffee per day.
Between the horrifying morning sickness and my heartbreak over realizing that some of my loved ones didn’t seem interested in actually knowing me, I started feeling like I wasn’t ever going to ever be happy during this pregnancy. Maybe I was going to look back on it with regret, and maybe once the baby was born, I’d spend the whole rest of my life having to stand up for myself as both a person and a parent. Since one of the reasons I had wanted to have a baby in the first place was my faith, I met with Father H. again and told him how discouraged and deficient I’d been feeling.
"You know," he said, "I think that your willingness to embrace ambiguity is going to be a huge advantage for you as a parent."
If you aren’t sure you’ve ever experienced grace, think about any time in your life that someone said something elegant and simple to you that washed you in calm. That one sentiment reminded me that my experience as an individual and my experience as a parent are going to be reciprocal. When I’m my home with my husband, I feel total support, love, and perfect happiness with who I am and who we are. Whether or not anyone else understands my transition is irrelevant to the fact that I understand it and celebrate it myself, and that my husband, partner, and co-parent loves me for it. In raising a child, that happiness will be fed into my child and back to me; it will compound itself. And from what I understand, that’s the beauty of parenthood.
Rebecca Jeanne Vipond-Brink is a queer, trans, and Catholic writer, editor, and advocate. You can see more of Rebecca’s work at rvb.cool and connect on LinkedIn.
from Greatist RSS http://ift.tt/2lXgjQu What It’s Like Being Trans and Pregnant Greatist RSS from HEALTH BUZZ http://ift.tt/2mPcz0R
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