“She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.”
― Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
I’ve started and stopped this post about ten times now. Not because I’m afraid or worried about what people will think or say. Mostly because once I settled into the reality of me, I ceased giving a shit about what people thought about who I was or what I was.
Then something came up very recently and I thought; Well, I should put something out there.
I’m going to be writing this from a purely personal voice. Nothing professional about it. The time is right for me to talk about this because it’s Pride Month and well, a neutral time for me. And it kind of saddens me that I have to lay this out with those factors in mind but it is what it is and people are who they are.
Just like I am who I am.
So, in the spirit of Pride Month and coming out, I would like to tell all of you I am agender.
I know, right? Birds didn’t fall from the sky, the erupting volcano down the street from my mom’s house is still going at it and my dog still eats cat shit out of the litter box.
So let me back this ramen cart up a bit and talk about why I’m sharing this.
A little bit is because I’m irritated (mostly at myself) but I’ll get into that later.
Anger is one of the most stupidest of reasons to be talking about this because honestly, I’ve always known I’m not a girl or a boy. I’ve just never given a shit once I settled there. I’ve always been a mix. And not the social construct of gender identity but rather the sheer lack of identifying with either one. Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I’m not much of a joiner of things. I’m so much of a non-joiner, I opted out of a gender.
I’ve never felt like a girl or a boy. And I struggled with that. I’ve struggled the fuck out of that. I’ve explored being more femme and trying to see if I wasn’t really a guy. I tried male on. It didn’t fit. Neither did female. There were a lot of identity things that caused a lot of confusion, heartache, rage, loneliness and most of all, disassociation from society and people.
At the end of it all, I realized one very significant thing… it just didn’t fucking matter. Continue reading “The Not-So-Scarlet A”







