My Gender is Humxn

Gender is a stretched out collar on a fifty dollar t-shirt. Or a bleach speck on your favorite button up. The garments are still wearable, but you know that you had to finesse it a bit. And just when you forgot about the blemishes of your clothes, someone points it out to you and a gushing blush and throbbing cheeks are choreographed on your face. They just had to bring it up.

I know there are other aspects of gender including roles played out in society which ultimately attempts to lay down some kind of rule book on how to behave in a given situation. What I would say to this is how unoriginal. I get that some may find empowerment in their cis gender “identity” but, don’t we find exertion of it’s binary concurrent to a cheetah in a zoo? That cheetah may be able to jog, but can forget about sprinting.

So what is gender if not spell bound by its two parts? It’s the ability to express oneself. Express your inner world bridged to your outer world by you. Strip all the “supposed to’s”. Girls do this, wear this, say this, respond like this, dance like this. Boys, other. What’s left is how you as a person do, wear, say, respond, dance. Freeing the cheetah so that they can run like the wind.

That’s my gender. My gender is wearing earth toned clothes (I’m in my earth tone era). Listening to my heart when someone is in need of compassion. Nurturing my plants and cat. Yelling at a taxi that almost hit me as I was walking to Trader Joe’s for groceries. And its not how I sound when I speak or how my arms and hands wave around. It’s the ability to do so. Ultimately, arbitrary by nature. Humxn nature.