Blessings In Disguise

It is time to stop counting what I lost and start counting what I gained from the experiences I shared with The Lost Boy. In some cases this is the same thing. One of the greatest things he did was destabilise my identity, give me a start-point and space in which to challenge so many of my 'truths'- my femmeness, my femaleness, the sneaking suspicion that really underneath it all I was a straight chick, my fear of my more 'masculine traits'.

Sonya Bolus, in Loving Outside Simple Lines (GenderQueer, ed Nestle at al), writes of her feelings when her butch partner decides to transition:

My greatest fear is how this might affect my own sense of self. "Just don't ask me to be straight," I tell you. "It took me too much pain and time and struggle to come out queer, lesbian, and femme-proud. I can't go back." But you never step on or dictate my identity, and for this I am grateful beyond words.

Instead you inspire me to look with courage at my self-definitions. I see how true they are to me. I also see how sometimes they limit me. Though they have often given me security and a means to self-awareness, I notice parts of myself I have supressed: the attraction I one felt for men, the desire I know feel for other femmes, the need to examine my own "othergenderness"...

Later I ask if I can kiss your breasts goodbye. You grant me this, though I know what an effort it is. But I have to ask for this; I'll never have another chance. I kiss your nipples as tenderely as if they were made of snow. I let my tears fall on your soft skin. I know I will always remember how your nipples quietly harden, even under such a gentle touch.

This explains much of what he has given me. I question my body again, look in new ways at my milky breasts and my girly curves and my pierced labia, discover new potentials and possibilities. And I am grateful for all of this.