I wish I had the words to explain what it feels like to exist in this body.
I wake up knowing today will be another day of uncomfortably shifting to avoid your scrutiny. I have known my proportions were wrong wince I begun to develop in ways my friends did not, knew for sure the first time my father cast his gaze over me and told me I could afford to loose a few.
I have perfected my posture to draw your eyes from the bits that make me hate myself the most. Put all my considerable weight on one leg, lean to the side but keep my body straight, trying to hide my hips, keep my back to the wall so you cant ever see my ass. Walk at the back of the group because I canāt walk in a straight like knowing you are perceiving me from behind. hunch my shoulder forward because the thought of you noticing my tits makes me want to tear myself apart. I smile, always lopsided and weird looking, because id rather you look mat my face than anywhere else. Never angle my head downwards because my double chins are pronounced enough without that to draw your attention. My face is marked, poor skin care routine combined with non-existent self control. All wrong. Another thing he points out every chance he can get.
Words arenāt supposed to have power, but they control me. I cringe when people say the word āfatā, want to tear out my hair when people talk about working out. Blush redder than a stop light when people tall about periods, even typing it makes me want to flee. It doesnāt make sense, the way I shy away from all talks that might tie me to womanhood.
Womanhood is tied to things I have too much of. Child bearing hips, ever growing tits. An ass. Things I would trade in a heartbeat. I donāt need this uterus, these ovaries. Every month I get slapped aggressively with a reminder of my role here, but every month is as empty as the last, so itās a needless reminder. Perhaps I am to become what they expect of me, a lonely woman, aimless, longing to be filled with child as all women are supposed to long.
I am jealous of skinny women. I hate this prison for many reasons, of course I wish I were skinny like them, but more than that I wish to be shapeless. A line straight down, no bumps or curves to draw your gaze.
I know I donāt make any sense but I also know I donāt have the words to explain the way I feel about my attachment to āwomanhoodā. I just know that sometimes I remember the way I used to be, fearless and shapeless, when I was a child. I ran and I played and I climbed and I just existed exactly the same way all the boys did, and it never mattered that I wasnāt the same as them. Now, everything I do is quantified by my tits and my cunt. I donāt play football, I play womens football. I donāt play cricket, I play womens cricket. i canāt walk home alone after work, so every day I have to drive. I love women but I am supposed to love men, so even this most special sacred thing is wrong in all the ways that matter to the rest of the world.
PLEASE WHY DOES THE IDEA OF CALLING MYSELF A BOY MAKE ME SO HAPPY WHAT AJSKDGHLAKJFBHFJ
my gender is The FitnessGram⢠Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.
*slaps my own ass* this bad boy can fit so many genders in them
Gender Crisis
Status: Ongoing
Current Topic: Gender Apathetic???
I donāt know whatās going on really. I thought I might be a demi girl (thanks people from last time) but now Iām thinking that I donāt really care what pronouns people use for me?????
Like, I like āfeminineā things/clothing options but then I realised that clothes being feminine doesnāt real exist and know Iām confused again.
Is there a label for someone who doesnāt care what pronouns are used for them?
If so, please tell me, it helps me feel secure.
my gender is the Phineas and Ferb theme song
I know this phrase has been beaten to death by bunch of people but Iām gonna use it anyways. All I have ever wanted is to be truly normal. To get out of the cycle of meeting with people who are trying their best to help me but never truly succeeding. Told what to do by people who donāt truly know me.
I hate it all. I hate to myself in the mirror. My feminine body. My thin limbs and narrow waist. Should I be proud? I know my body type is someone elseās dream but just not mine. My annoyingly high pitched voice that I force to be deeper. My fast growing hair that I have to cut all the time.
Is being normal just too much to ask for? Sorry for the vent.
Why is gay an adjective while lesbian is a noun? What does this say about gender? I really donāt know..
Is it part of the objectification of women? (since nouns are generally names of things). We very rarely describe ourselves with nouns and when we do, it often sounds offensive (I wonāt give examples but Iām sure you can think of a few). However people do use nouns to describe themselves when talking about their occupations.. So maybe it just makes people feel more strongly about an identity when itās expressed as a noun. This can be in positive or negative ways. Personally Iād prefer if we usually use adjectives or verbs to describe ourselves and what we do, because ultimately none of these things is entirely what we are. Nouns imply a kind of universality and permanence.
I suppose if us lesbians want to use an adjective we could use the term sapphic.
New genders dropped, get some:
i just started wondering. how come all the third genders (except in the modern west) iāve heard of are for people who were born male who exhibit feminine behavior (or sometimes are just gay). none of the stories iāve seen have biological females taking on traditional masculine roles in their community.
What is gender?
Gender to you isnāt not the same as gender to me.
One minute I feel female, the next male.
Then you see on Thursdays Iām somewhere inbetween.
wanna know how Iām genderfluid and agender at the same time? itās basically like air. you canāt see it but itās there and moving
And there came a day when I decided to make my body become as I wished to see. I took to hand my muscles and I pushed and formed them. Chemicals course through my veins and transmute my skin to something new. I am altered beyond recognition as I claim the face and softness which I chose for myself.
This body is clay of blood and it has become mine by the act of taking control of its shape. Blades will carve me up anew. They will say I am grotesque. They will choke back horror as they learn the material self they cling so determinedly to can be unmade and remade with so slight an effort.
They see it as a horror, I see it as my choice, my life, the means to claim the place in the world that I belong. It is simply a body furnished as I desire.
ok so my sisters getting married and probably eventually getting kids and iām flirting w the idea of possibly being called āuncle bellaā because honestly that is a fucking vibe.
like i identify as a girl w she/her pronouns but being an UNCLE sounds way better than an aunt. i honestly just have stoner uncle vibes
**but if anyone has any other fun options lmk because i donāt feel like an āauntā yknow