Somewhere along the sliding scale of things I realized that gender might be fluid. The idea that persons who occupy traditional gender roles; roles where male=masculine and female=feminine stay in some sort of stationary existence wherein the duality or multiplicity inherent in each biological being is at rest or stifled, has clouded my own reality.
In this reality, I have come to realize that one may be coming into oneself in a manner where change is necessary for feeling wholeness, but where it also involves removing oneself from historical identification and therefore, selfhood. There is always this element in growth of letting go of something, in order to move forward. But is this always necessary? Can one move forward, change, and still hold all parts in tact?
There are a confluence of factors which culminate in one's self concept, obviously. Take a look in the mirror and answer this question, how many of those factors reflect or revolve around your self concept of your own gender? When you get up in the morning, and you have your very first thoughts... are you aware of your body and how you feel within it? Are you aware that your mind somehow does not match your body? Are you aware of which items of clothing and which style of dress you adorn in order to perform your gender and embody your true self - your timeless being?
When I wake up in the morning, I enjoy the sensation of my body. I am not even aware of its gender until I get dressed. And then I am made aware of the daily ceremony I must go through and how that ceremony is in contravention to societal norms. For me, putting on a pair of pants is not an act of warmth. It is not simply an exercise in fashion preference. It is a statement of my cross gender affiliation. It is signalling to the world my masculinity. A masculinity which is in opposition to all things considered acceptable for those categorized as women.
So why can't I just wear a dress? Oddly enough, even when I had long hair and managed a bit of mascara, I did not feel capable of wearing a dress. It felt as foreign to me as a clown suit and every bit as ridiculous.
Yet, despite this discomfort in female assigned clothing and accoutrements, wearing "male" or masculine defined clothing, while comfortable and suitable to my gender identity - signals to the rest of the world that I am something *other*. That which makes me feel comfortable in private, while reflected back at me in public, detracts comfort. One would hope the opposite would be true. You wear what makes you happy, others notice the ease with which you embody yourself and you are rewarded with this acknowledgement. Somewhere in this equation, if one is in contravention of societal norms, the reflection can become toxic. What is reflected back has been corrupted by the negative filters of social distortion.
Exercising one's gender through dress preference becomes an act of resistance. Any female who feels the pressure of leaving the house in contravention of her constructed feminine role demands... and, likewise, any man who acts and dresses in contravention of standards of male masculinity can understand the pull to conform to gender ideals.
Now imagine if you were pulled in the opposite direction - to the point of your own idealism - and you were subjected to violence, hostility, and general misunderstanding. The act of self alignment through dress has pulled you in the direction of oncoming traffic. Pause. You must now exercise self control.
