The Third Coming [Out]


I came out as bisexual in…college, I think? It’s murky, because I kissed girls in high school and I’m pretty sure I tried to come out to my parents, only to be told it was a phase; so in college, I snuck it into other conversations with some of my friends, often while we swooned over our peers and I hesitantly admitted to nursing a long-time crush on a female friend, which crush I was terrified to act on.

I came out as asexual last year; again, in a pretty low-key way–I stuck it into my Twitter bio. I’m still not sure who IRL knows or understands, but that’s okay. Frankly, my asexuality is mostly between me and my husband, since we’re monogamous. No one else really needs to know the state of my sex drive.

But this? This might take some explaining.

I’m agender. You can call me Spiv. My pronouns are they/them/theirs.

Or you can call me Cait, and you can keep using she/her. You can even use he/him. The pronouns don’t bother me much (as a friend of mine once said, “You can use any, because none of them fit!”).

Agender means that I don’t identify with any gender, and it’s taken me a couple months of serious thought to figure this out. It started because I got angry at my breasts.

My breasts have always been small, which has been awesome. I stopped wearing bras long ago, opting for no bra in winter or a bralette in summer, mostly for squishing purposes. I can hide them with layers and feel great. But that first day of questioning, it wasn’t enough to have small breasts. I wanted them gone. I needed them to be gone, because they weren’t right. They didn’t belong on my chest.

This feeling persists. To be clear, there are days I don’t mind the breasts. But it’s like…being handed two water balloons and told to carry them. It’s okay for awhile. But then you’re not allowed to put them down, ever, even after you start screaming, “These aren’t mine, what am I supposed to do with these???”

I had shaved my head at the end of May, ostensibly so that I could have “more time” to “experiment with make-up” and not have to waste time doing my hair–but that hasn’t happened. Mostly, it’s been an incredible relief to me to not have to spend a lot of time getting ready at all. I have felt, honestly, more comfortable wearing feminine outfits with my shaved head, because it gives me an androgyny that I lacked when I had longer hair.

I realized, eventually, that I was experiencing mild gender dysphoria. I’d already heard of genderqueerness, knew several genderqueer and non-binary people, so I started researching those terms and quickly found agender. And it fit.

My ideal body is a Ken doll, basically–no reproductive organs of any kind. I want to be able to wear anything without gender being assigned to me. My problem is that I read very female. Besides the breasts, I’m short, short-torsoed, and I have wide hips and a curved jawline, and it’s very annoying. My feminine clothes are gathering dust because I have to go more masculine to get to neutral. But I’ve been working out (my husband suggested that with enough chest work, my pectorals may totally subsume my breasts, which would be awesome), and I’ll be looking into chest binders, stealing my husband’s clothes, and generally doing what I’ve gotta do to be comfortable with my body.

So, this post. The reason I’ve done this post, instead of sneaking my identity out of my head and onto the internet, is that this is something that I would like my people to know and understand.

Family members, friends, people I will interact with: I’m agender. I’m not a girl or a boy. You can call me she or he, but they is most accurate. You can call me Cait, which is my name, or you can call me Spiv, the gender-neutral nickname I’ve had since middle school. I’m my husband’s spouse, I’m my parents’ child, I’m my siblings’ sibling. These things are true no matter what I’m wearing.

This doesn’t have to change much about how we interact; like I said, you don’t have to change what you call me. As long as you know that calling me she doesn’t mean I’m a girl, we’re cool–and you’ll be helping me feel less anxious about wearing feminine clothing. If you want to use singular they or call me Spiv, or even just use spouse, child, sibling, etc, that’s gravy. I’ll do my best to answer questions, but please don’t ask in real life, I’ll probably fail to find the words, get flustered, and start crying, and no one wants that.

Mostly, if you think agender is not a thing, that it’s fake and only for attention or some other crap, just keep quiet and withdraw yourself from my life. I don’t think either of us needs that kind of negativity.

IMG_0513Love,

Spiv

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6 thoughts on “The Third Coming [Out]

  1. Great post Spiv – lots of food for thought here and thank you for being so candid. I have the same feeling about my breasts but that’s because of their large size (and comparably my small frame). I actually desire to be more feminine but feel that my 34DD breasts prevent me from feeling feminine enough which I think most people would find a bit counterintuitive. Each of us gets to own our bodies, our genders or lack thereof the way we see fit.

  2. Hey,
    I’m so happy you choose to share this with us and I hope you know that I (and hopefully the others here as well) accept and love you for who you are, no matter the gender.
    i definitely agree with Kathy Palm, because being you is the best you can do 🙂

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