Likes: terrorizing mortals; libraries; serious eyeshadow; chain wallets; suspiciously lifelike marble statues
Dislikes: people who aren't statues yet; bros; Perseus
Post with 23 notes
Sometimes I feel like “man” and “woman” are just these stupid categories made up by society. Well yeah, I mean, they are, that’s nothing new, but sometimes I get a really clear sense that I am a “woman” by default, like I am in the category “woman” not because of any particular personal or physical quality, but because I am not in the category “man.”
I’m not really interested in being in the category “man,” either, because—well, because my life experiences and observations of culture tell me it’s a pretty gross category to be in. I don’t want to ape the oppressor and I don’t want to be defined by the oppressor. I just wanna be.
I feel genderless, but that doesn’t even mean anything, does it? Gender is…made up. Made up but still powerful. My body image, how I feel about the biologically “female” aspects of my body, that’s also confusing, but not to the point of dysphoria by any means. I don’t want to be skinny, I know that much. I wouldn’t mind being the size I am if it was all muscle. Is that female? Is that “feminine”? Who cares though? Does it matter? It doesn’t make me sick though, it doesn’t keep me up at night. I don’t want to co-opt other people’s experiences by calling it something it’s not, but it’s significant enough that my curiosity about it is, from time to time, piqued.
This has been a completely incoherent text post about gender identity and oppression, and now you can see why I don’t really discuss this seriously very often.