“The first thing you are going to want to know about me: boy or girl?” This is one the first lines in Symptoms of Being Human by Jeff Garvin. (It is an excellent book by the way, if anybody needs a book recommendation.”) Well, it is true. Whoever may be reading this, you want to know what I am.
I am assigned female at birth, but who cares. I am currently questioning what in the world my brain has wired me as. I feel like gender fluid is the right term, but in all honesty, I really could not care less. Some times, I do feel like I am female, but I do not know if that is due to my physical anatomy or not. Others, I feel more masculine. And most of time, I am somewhere in between. A fusion.
My brain really is a maze.
What I hate the most, though, is that I cannot let my parents in on this “little secret.” When I tried to mention that I was not completely straight, they wrote it off as me being too young to know these things, which I do understand. Maybe I am too young and this is “just another phase.” But I do think I would know if I am looking at all people of different types and… well let us just say that there are thoughts that are beyond friendship.
See? I cannot even select a correct term for my sexuality. If I have no clue what gender I am supposed to be, how do I find a way to describe my affectionate feelings. I could say bisexual, which sounds most proper, but I also would fall for any good personality given the time.
You know what? Forget labels. I will just deal with the complications like all of life’s other wildcards. I will bury it away and not to cause anymore stress on other people.
I apologize for my not-so-little rant. My head really is just a mess and I do not know what to do with it. Let’s see what else is up with me.
The main thin anybody knows of me is that I am a serious bookworm. And I mean serious. Books are my everything. They provide an escape from reality and my problems into someone else’s world. I love it. (I do not, however, really like video games. Some are okay, like classics.) I like many different types of books, but not much nonfiction. I read Anne Frank’s diary and really liked it, but I still felt weird reading it. She did not intend on people really seeing it, so I felt bad reading through personal things, even though her dad would not have published it if she did not think it was okay.
My taste in music cannot be defined. I like almost everything. Not much country music is my cup of tea, but I do like the old country. (The new stuff is more pop-ish.) I have a soft spot for all of the cute little songs and indie music. I like all the classics and rock (The Beatles, Led Zepplin, etc.) I get that taste from my older brother. One of his current favorites is Tame Impala, and I think they are pretty awesome, too. Give me a song and, if the lyrics and chords connect with me, I’ve got it in some playlist. I just love music.
I am learning to play guitar and ukulele. I am working on creating songs of my own. I am also working on a book series that I am excited about(shshshshshshsh). I care to deeply, forgive to easily, and forget almost nothing, unless it is important because of course I would.
There is so much more to me that I guess we will see as these entries unfold, if anyone is actually reading them. I am tired, though and want to try to sleep. I have not been able to sleep well for a while. I writing this right now in the middle of the night with everything all silent (which is why this entry is kind of sucky. I am usually a pretty decent writer. I am taking advantage of this opportunity of sleepiness. Let’s hope the nightmares hold off tonight.
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