Moonrise

It’s a quarter past two in the morning, and something really good is happening.

Since I became single a month ago (and since I started to get over that) it’s as though my sense of me has finally been given free rein to express itself, to become more known, just to be.

The more I relax into myself, the more happy I get. The more I relax into myself, the more clear it is that everything I feel is allowed. Doesn’t need explanation. Doesn’t (especially doesn’t) need justification. Just accept. Just accept. And understand, when and where it’s possible without forcing it.

So here I am on a full moon night, awake, wide awake, reading this great book called Circle of Change, by Laney Cairo. It’s kind of a young adult novel, set in a background of gentle Wicca/paganism, about a young gay cis man getting together with a young gay trans man. It’s funny, and it’s very, very sweet. And a very apt book to be awake reading on a full moon night :).

So I’m pondering gently to myself about my fascination with the coming-out stories of trans men, about how I identify way more with these than I do with all the trans woman stories, and What Does This Tell Me About Me and suchlike? And then I just laughed out loud to myself, and said “Hey you, it’s really simple – whilst you are definitely, happily, going through an MTF gender transition, you are fundamentally a genderqueer woman, end of story!”

Suddenly some things make a whole load of new sense. The prevailing onslaught of expectation around me (that I’ve been trying not to buy into) is that somehow the goal of any trans woman is to end up not being trans, but just being a woman. So it had never occurred to me before now that though I’m going through this gender transition in order to end my dysphoria (because not having a female body is what’s always been the wrong thing), being genderqueer is something other, that’s quite separate from my dysphoria, quite rich and complex, quite worthy of great celebration and nurturing.

Get this, me: I’m not transitioning in order to “get over” being genderqueer. I deeply love that I’m transitioning – and I love that I’m a female, a woman, who identifies as a tomboy, as womandrogyne, as androgyne, who fancies women and men (both cis and trans) and people whose gender I don’t even know. I love that in some way (for which I have, and need, no explanation), there’s a corner of my genderqueer identity that feels like a trans man.

None of this is either/or. It’s all going on, it’s all me, it’s all good.

Witnessing this out loud to myself for the first time tonight makes me feel really, really fucking happy.

So I’m sending you all my most genderqueer full moon love xxxXxxx

(no intoxicants were involved in the writing of this outburst…)

Curious endnote: my lunar unconscious wrote this phrase: women and men (both cis and trans) – and only on re-reading the above did I realise it’s a deep bow to the first ever e.e. cummings poem I read, anyone lived in a pretty how town. Mind, I love you too…

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