Sometimes I wonder how I would identify in a perfect world. In a world where my identity is just that. A descriptor of who I understand myself to be. Not political, not in context of other identities, ideas, expectations and pressures.

In a world where being feminine isn't met with misogyny. Being trans isn't met with transmisia. Being a trans woman isn't met with transmisogyny. Being queer isn't meat with hate, fear, violence & exclusion. Where I don't worry if queer women will accept me as one of their own.

Do I not care about my own gender because it is unimportant? Because I'm tired of caring? Because I'm tired of fighting for its right to exist without repercussions? Because I feel like people get it wrong all the time anyways, so the less I care, the less it hurts?

Being a non-binary, pansexual trans person who passes as a cis woman insulates me from a lot of violence. On the street, I don't experience violence for being trans. Online, TERFs & other bigots have a hard time attacking me because they have a hard time deciding on my AGAB.

Since in their eyes, I am neither from the group they claim to represent (AFAB folks) nor do I claim to be part of the groups they try to gatekeep (women, lesbians etc.), I give them relatively little opportunity to attack me. I don't fit many of their usual attack patterns.

Lately, I am talking to a lot of AFAB folks who feel like they might be trans and/or non-binary. One of their major fears, is that the reason for them to have those feelings, might be internalized misogyny. And while that is usually not the case for them in the end, I ask myself:

Why do I not feel comfortable just being a woman? A bisexual lesbian? A queer woman who's presentation and identity shifts between being more femme and more butch? Surely, from the outside, that's what makes most sense. It's what everyone else sees anyways. That part is clear.

And, and this part keeps me coming back to this question, it's not like this way of looking is just something I was born with. The way I look, the way I sound, the shape and feel of my body are the results of years of fighting, of pain, of absurd amounts of money spent.

I didn't just choose to look the way I do. I made it happen. I actively changed my body against it's own original tendencies, against societal pressures, against what would be easy and comfortable. With medication, surgery, training, hair removal etc. And I love the way I look.

So if I desperately want to look, sound, smell, feel like a bisexual lesbian, a queer woman, a trans dyke, why do I not claim any of these terms anymore?

If I feel kinship, understanding and sameness with those who do, why don't I accept those descriptors?

Yes, the mainstream concepts of femininity can be stifling and restrictive, but (god the irony) why can't I just be a bit butch or a but tomboyish, instead of being non-binary?

Femininity has always been something empowering for me. Something that I love in myself and others.

Am I using my identity to make a point? To push against regressive, binary gender systems? I know I want to do that, but am I doing myself a disservice by chosing identities that disrupt others more than identities that empower myself? Am I avoiding pain and rejection?

This year, I've changed pronouns, changed my hair about 5 times, incl a side shave and 4 colors, gotten a tattoo and changed a ton of other things about my life. They all feel good and freeing. The all feel right. But I think it's fair to say they also sound pretty pubescent.

I keep telling people to be kind to themselves and to give themselves the space to explore, to experiment, to change their mind. To lash out, to go wild and to be ok, if that particular change was more about rebellion than about self-actualization.

As any good advice giver, I am having a hard time applying the same to myself. I struggle accepting my own advice, no matter how much I know it to be sound and helpful.

I guess I'm doing this dance again today. I guess I'm going for another round of questioning.

Those who know me well, have seen it happening for a few weeks now. Both in my presentation and how I talk about myself. It's been brewing under the surface for a while and while I'm not sure what's going to come out of it, I know something is getting ready to be tasted.

As I'm sitting here, tucked into my quilt, in a little wooden cabin, looking out into the forest & down to the creek with its icy water jumping between rocks & snow, drinking my coffee with hot chocolate, reading about reclaiming femininity from a trans perspective, I wonder...