I read an interesting post on RU Secrets about somebody struggling with their gender identity. This was my response, before I realized it was too long to put on facebook:
Are you scared of how others will act towards you because of your identity? That used to be one of my greatest fears. Specifically, I felt that way about identifying as a furry and generally feeling a strong kinship with nonhumans. I used to worry about how people would respond to me saying "I want to genetically engineer talking animals". Well, people still make sure to tell me explicitly about how much they love eating nonhumans. They vigorously assure me that some of my closest friends and family members are not sentient. Strangers still consider my identification with the furry subculture disgusting. They maliciously portray this identification as a sexualized perversion.
Although all of this always stings, I've accepted that hearing those openly hostile words is much preferable to not expressing that important part of my identity. That's a price I'm forced to pay for being a certain way in a certain world.
I found that, when you fear what others think of you, you continually give them power over you. Simultaneously, you're actively (but unconsciously) belittling your right to express yourself. It's really important to identify all the ways that you might be hating yourself, then take all the hate and direct it outwards. If not hate, whatever negative feelings they may be--turn them into something you can aim at the situations you're in, at the people who wrong you, so that you can become indignant and sure about who you are.
For me, that was a necessary part in rising out of a really shitty outlook on life and on my identity. I tried redirecting the negativity in a variety of ways, but I'll share one that was obvious and kind of silly: one day, I decided to attach cat ears to my headphones and wear them all around campus. I stick out like a sore thumb whenever I put them on, and for a while I felt horribly embarrassed and honestly scared of what people might say about what that expressive act said about me--I was scared of the things that people say about furries. I had to very directly confront my feelings at their most intense, recognize that they gave others power over me, and erase them. I repeatedly told myself that I am allowed to express myself how I like. I forced my fear of others' opinions to become confidence, and I slowly realized that the puzzled reactions, the confused stares, and the awkward statements are not inherently hurtful. They only hurt because I had been viewing those opinions and reactions as legitimate. Although I would never in a thousand of years have believed that those opinions were valid, I realized that was how I felt.
Wearing cat ears is kind of a silly way to express a deeper identity, and it doesn't hurt anyone. I had a lot of friends who said somewhat demeaning things about it, misinterpreting it as childish. Each time I did, I used that opportunity to reiterate that I would wear cat ears if I damn well pleased. I pointed out that it was sort of fun, it resonated with my kinship with nonhumans, and it showed solidarity with a subculture. I had lots of small, but valid reasons to express myself in this way. It was a small token, but my right to have those external tokens is unalienable.
If I were to put on a skirt, it wouldn't be anybody else's right to tell me not to. If I were to mix men's clothing with women's clothing with animal clothing, that would be my fucking prerogative. Expressing your gender identity, whether trans, fluid, or a-, is your fucking choice, and if you want to express it in silly ways or meaningful ways or sexualized ways, you have the right. Your self-expressive acts are nobody else's business, unless you want to share with them that part of you that you're expressing.
I understand that there are real harms that can come to a person of a given identity - and this varies with the identity. Where I live, and in my social circles, I will probably never have to face the threat of violence for being a furry. Probably not even for being gay. But even if you choose not to come out, in general or in a given environment, you should not be living under the shadow of self-hatred and fear. You should always be doing what you honestly believe is the healthiest and best course of action for you. Be pragmatic, of course. Avoid unnecessary problems that will cause you suffering. But where possible, recognize that certain kinds of suffering require that you give legitimacy to the words of others.
When you're always scared and alone, it feels really, really unnatural to ask for help. But sometimes you literally just have to say "I am sad and I need somebody to make me feel happy". Believe it or not, one of the things that helped me the most when I was depressed was thinking about the people who would have hated me for being depressed. I was listening to a horribly offensive rant against "angst" (probably people with depression), and after being stunned for most of what I can only describe as a train wreck of mortifying prejudice, a 4-minute video that completely misrepresents an important psychological health issue that personally affects me, the comedian pointed out that everybody has their downs. Everybody knows what it's like to feel shitty. He made the idiotic suggestion: "if you're lonely, then say so. If you need attention, say I want some goddamn attention." For whatever reason, that really stuck with me. I've gotten so good at hiding those downs (I was diagnosed with depression) that sometimes I literally had to come out and say "I feel like shit. Say something funny." Sometimes, eve when people know they need to support you, they may seem to completely disregard your needs. If you're having trouble dealing with having a certain identity, sometimes you have to tell a friend exactly what you need and what they need to change. If you can do it with love, they should love you right back.
The way to defeat fear is through courage, and it's sometimes abrasive or brash. Breaking out of a shell that you've been in for your whole life may hurt, and the shattered pieces of that shell may stun the people close to you. It can feel like an explosive transition from socially appropriate deference to bravely expressing what makes you beautiful, but transitions are always awkward. That's why we laugh when we look back at our teenage years.
So, Secret #1,062, you have my wholehearted support. I'd be happy to chat online or over coffee!
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