I want to talk more about being weird in socially acceptable way. In yesterday’s post, I blathered about how it’s ok to be, say, a vegan Crossfitter, but not whatever the fuck I am. I’ve said it before, but it’s like trying to describe the color red to a blind person. They have no basis to understand the concept of red, so it’s exceedingly difficult if not impossible to do so. Someone born without sight, I mean.
In the same vein, it’s really hard to explain to people my way of thinking if they aren’t already so inclined. In a society that is so wedded (pun intended) to monogamy, for example, the idea of nonmonogamy is almost unfathomable. Add to that compersion (joy at your partner finding another partner), and, well, yeah. I actually like to expand compersion to joy in a partner finding joy at anything else, but I understand that most ENM people (ethically nonmonogamous) restrict it to dating and partners.
One of my goals this year was to find an Asian queer/genderqueer group (online). Have I done it? No. Have I even looked? I did a cursory search and did not find one that fit what I wanted. I would like it to be local even if I intend to attend online. I would like it to acknowledge that agender people exist, but I’m not holding my breath. Even a lot of people who are agender use ‘they’ as their pronoun. Which, I hastened to add, is perfectly fine! It’s just not me.
Every time I try to find songs about being agender, I get frustrated. I can find songs about genderfluid and nonbinary, but not about abstaining from gender completely. Why am I like this? Why couldn’t I just be genderqueer ?
Here’s the thing. I could call myself agnostic and genderqueer. In fact, I really like the idea of genderqueer, but as with queer now meaning gay, genderqueer has been turned into nonbinary. I ain’t (that) mad; I’m just tired. And resigned. I know most people don’t do nuance, but it’s not nice feeling like I’m being erased over and over again.
It’s like how POC means black, race is always black and white (and maybe Latino* because of immigartion issues). I’m never going to be acknowledged, which I have accepted more or less. But I will say that one reason I voted for Obama in the primaries over Clinton was because he talked openly about Asian people (makes sense. His half-sister is Asian, and he was born in Hawaii). He also mentioned bi people. And after he was elected, he mentioned people with no religion.
These may seem like small things, but for someone who had never been rmentioned by any politician before Obama or since, it matters. It tells me that I’m not a fleeting thought for the vast majority of politicians. Also, my grudge against the Democratic Party continues to grow. They learned nothing from Obama and continue with the same fucked up tactics that hasn’t worked for them in the last thirty years. Telling me how we’re losing and how bad the Republicans are isn’t going to get me revved up to vote or do anything for the party. Also, selling my name to every Democratic group within the country is not good, either.
Maybe learn how to use the internet to your advantage (something Obama did very well), and be more optimistic? I can’t believe I’m saying that, but doom and gloom is wearying. Obama managed to be optimistic without being a Pollyanna. He was a pragmatic at heart, meaning he would rather get a bill done than shoot for the sky. This was an asset, but it bit him in the ass once in a while. Still. He got a lot of shit done–more than most modern presidents.
How the fuck–you know what? It is what it is, and I am what I am. I’m not going to make excuses or apologies for it.
Back to being weird.
I learned in my teens that I was just weird. Or rather, I felt liek an alien. It didn’t help that I had no idea how to act in America because my parents were immigrants from Taiwan. More to the point, they both came for grad school) and met in Tennessee. They could not go back to Taiwan for many years because of politics, and it wasn’t until I was in my forties or fifties that I realized my father never wanted to stay in America past getting his PhD.
Some of my weirdness was innate and some of it was from a dysfunctional home. There were many things my parents believed that shaped me, for better and more notably, for worse. Like rigid gender roles, blending into society, and not talking about the family at all outside the home. And I mean at all. My father was very secretive, and I can be as well. I’m raelly good at keeping a secret, but I can’t always distinguish between a secret worth keeping and one tha should be told. I also can’t always tell when something really isn’t a secret.
I’m tired. I’m in my mid-fifties. It might be time to just say fuck it all to masking and pretending to be normal. To be fair, I don’t have to do it much because I don’t go out much, but I would like to be able to let it all go.
With my friends, I can be me. Things don’t come up much, though. I mean like gender stuff. Because it’s not important to me, but also because, well, what really is there to talk about with close friends? I’m talking about people I’ve been friends with for a long time. thirty-plus years, sixteen years and roughly the same amount of time for the third person.
I’m tired. Physically and emotionally. I’ve been reborn for five years, and I think I’m done. Maybe it’s just the lack of sleep talking, but with everything going to hell all around me, I find myself wondering why I came back.
That’s all for today. Will probably write more tomorrow.
*I know it’s not a race. But for the purpose of this post, I’m leaving it like that.