Before that, I’ve worn nothing but sports bras with little to no padding for several years. I’ve opted out of wearing bras for almost the entirety of 2020. The only problem was, I never thought about my chest. (People assigned female at birth with discomfort about their breasts.) So, this is where I started assessing whether I was “really” nonbinary. Most people associate trans/nonbinary AFAB people with chest dysphoria. This wasn’t always a good way to go and could even (unintentionally) invalidate my own identity at times, but it was necessary work. (Yes, no other box to check here.)īy now, I’ve long since understood that no two experiences are identical, but that didn’t stop me from comparing my feelings about gender to trans and nonbinary people around me and using that to gauge whether or not I was cis. While the affirmation comforted me during an outcasted adolescence, it backfired into my adulthood when I started questioning whether or not I really was a woman. I spent my whole life convincing myself of that. I had to tell myself that my body’s “masculinity” was still beautiful, and that didn’t make me any less of a woman. Yet, the flat chest and hairy body routinely displaced my connection to womanhood, especially when classmates made any comments on the matter. In high school, I got my period, filled an A-cup sized bra, and succumbed to shaving my legs. And with no periods all through middle school, I’d felt so disconnected from womanhood that I genuinely felt like I was going through a boy’s puberty for that unforgivable 3-year stretch of hell. I had so much leg hair with no intention of dealing with it that I refused to wear shorts to school-even in gym class-too embarrassed to expose the leg hair, too annoyed to shave it. By the sixth grade, all of the girls sported bras that they’d show off to each other in the gym locker room whereas I’d been so completely flat-chested that I hadn’t even thought about needing a bra at all until I was the only girl in class who changed into her gym clothes completely topless. My body changed so differently than my friends’ did, and it was embarrassing. My body remained shapeless, flat-chested, and period-free. My (female) friends sprouted boobs, got their periods, started growing into curvy bodies. My body never really fit in once puberty hit. So why did loving my masculine features trigger such deep questions about my gender? And that is exactly where my confusion originated. The attributions are extremely varied, just as they are for men and women.
DYSPHORIA EUPHORIA FULL
A nonbinary body might be curvy, might be muscular, might have a full bust, might have a square jaw. You adopt more of an androgynous style/appearance and really love the way you look and feel.Ī nonbinary body is the body of any nonbinary person there’s no box to check here.You avoid exploring gender because you’re afraid you’ll like it.I chased this gender euphoria for months and talked myself down from any larger implications. Cutting off my long locks? I chopped that, and I was right. Sports-bra swim top paired with swim trunks? I bought that, and I was right. Boxer brief underwear? I ordered some, and I was right. I kept making guesses at what else could make me feel this newfound sense of love. And then I fell in love with my body for the first time. I bought a set of 5-pound dumbbells and began regularly working out, I stopped shaving my legs out of laziness and lack of contact with the world, and when the heat hit, I broke into a stash of sleeveless shirts that my brother outgrew, salvaged from the Goodwill pile years ago. Gender seeped into consciousness at the start of quarantine (April for me) in a curious flurry of accidental euphoria. I thought I already did all this hard identity work. Discovering that “lesbian” wasn’t my final victory was the most exhausting part of the gender journey. After all, spending eighteen years oblivious and several more years navigating sexuality labels, embracing “lesbian” finally clicked into place. From misinterpreting a lack of sexual attraction to boys as placement on the ace spectrum, to conflating attraction to women and two instances of compulsive heterosexuality to a three-year streak of using the bisexual label, learning to love “lesbian” felt like my final victory. I’m a lesbian, and it took a long time to get here. Blogs will now include a reading! Enjoy if you prefer an audioblog! How gender became unclear – could I be I nonbinary? Here’s the journey to my self-discovery, summarized with key points (or jokes, have fun distinguishing) at the end of each section to perhaps help other AFAB (assigned female at birth) nonbinary people understand themselves too. Over the course of several months, I never stopped asking myself, am I nonbinary? I wondered if I’d ever find a solid answer.
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