The Binary

The Artist D 2013, by Darya Teesewell

It was October 4, 2013 when I had a major photo shoot planned in Los Angeles California. I prepared for this trip and shoot for months. I stepped up my workout regime. I purchased tons of new outfits, wigs, makeup and accessories.

The day of the shoot came and for three hours I put myself together in the hotel room. It was reminiscent of the drag queen days when I would lock myself away with my makeup and bottle of vodka. Only this time I was a decade older and there wasn’t a drop of vodka in the place. When I was fully ready I looked in the mirror to see I looked like the woman I have come to know. I was fabulous!

With fifteen minutes remaining until my ride arrived I took another long look at myself and burst into tears. I immediately threw off the wig and ripped the tits from my chest. As quickly as I could I transformed back into a combat boot wearing man. The man I haven’t paid any attention to for quite some time.

To make sure we’re on the same page please note this is not my first time at the rodeo. I’ve been out since the beginning of time. The problem was not that I was afraid of stepping into the light, it was the question of who would I be stepping out as. You see, I am transgender in my nature but I am not the norm. I do not consist of only one direction. I consist of many things. I am fluid with gender and have always been. In the many years leading up to today I quite accidentally shucked a male persona for a completely female persona. I, like a lot of people, had been fooled into the belief of two distinct roles we must choose from or be of.

By living socially as a woman I psychologically muted the man I also was. He was not regularly photographed. He worked hard but he had no voice of his own. He was what was needed so she could live.

These certain things about my masculine persona have started to really bug me lately. Back when I originally started off on my public path as The Artist D I did present the masculine and the feminine. They were both me. Eventually the masculine faded for many reasons including the binary. Eventually the feminine stuck.

While I saw him in the mirror I paid little mind to him. Eventually when out as him I began to realize how nervous he was. He didn’t make good conversation. He wasn’t as entertaining. He was a stuttering mess even though he was me. Put me on the radio and there’s barely a stammer but as man I would not roar.

I threw off the wig and went to the photo shoot as my masculine self. I wanted to find him. I wanted to remind him that he existed as a person and not just an automaton. He was me and he can be witty, talkative and fabulous just like her.

We are lead to believe a gender binary exists among us far more than it actually does. I am a man, a woman and several things people have yet to describe. I can show many sides. I have listened to a stereotype. That is the standard. Being our true selves depends upon choosing which way we want to be. All the while we never had to choose. Who do you want to be when you grow up? All I knew was I wanted to be fabulous.

They tell us to be one way or be shunned. They don’t just do it to the transgender community, they do it to gender communities. Are you a manly man or a girlie girl? Be a man. Man up. Be a girl. Pink will be your favorite color. If a girl doesn’t have to like pink or wear dresses then a transgender individual doesn’t have to be all the things they are expected to be.

I am told that this rocks the boat. I’m surrounded by transgender folks who seem to tip toe and “shush” me. Don’t make waves. Just let’s be accepted as this one thing before we go trying to create other categories. Makes me think of all the gay boys that “they” ask to please put something over that Speedo or else everyone will think all the gays are sluts. It always seems that we work so hard for the outsider. Don’t upset the outsider. Don’t ruin the perception of the outsider. The outsider must let us into their club. The outsider must let us exist. What about the insider?

In some people they feel the need to go from one to the other, the black to the white. They are man and must be woman. They are woman and must be man. They’re traveling with no exceptions. For them they should seek their true selves and do what they want. But for others we need to recognize that there may not be a need to choose. Had I been allowed to be who I wanted to be from birth I would have kept the body, added a few accessories and walked down the street casually kicking everyone in the ass.

I have no need to choose. I am everything I want to be, crossing all needed lines. It’s who I happen to be.

Tags: binary, fluid, gender, multi, theartistd, Transgender

Category: Transgender Body & Soul, Transgender Opinion