Unlabeled - Blog Posts
I feel like we can all agree that labels can either bring people comfort or make people feel like they are being put into boxes. So on that note, I wish you all a good day, and I hope you find comfort with yourselves whether or not you identify with a label.
❤
The girls get it, get it, and girls don’t, don’t.
Sexuality is very confusing for me, so I stopped labeling myself all together, but I was wondering if anyone has any aromantic to lesbian/bi pipeline stories?
Anything that might actually help me, and I've also wondered if I could be demisexual or maybe I'm just deluding myself into finding one gender more datable than the other
idk I'm really tired so this probably doesn't make a lot of sense (plus I think I'm a little sick) but if anyone has anything relating to the aroace spectrum, or anything else under the flag really I'd love to hear it, even if it doesn't seem like it relates, because im just really confused about myself and I wouldn't mind finding something to relate too or something that you just might wanna share
I'd love to hear it!
quick update for whoever it may concern. I have started using strictly he/they pronouns!! That’s all ❤️❤️
I have like 5 followers but all 5 followers deserve to know they’re valid and loved. I fucking love you guys.
My First Heartbreak.
When I was in third grade, my mother decided that I should join ballet as a way to keep me distracted from what was happening with the divorce of my parents. I’m not sure what exactly made her think I would be interested in such a thing, back then I hated looking feminine in any way - and I mean it in a I-would-cry-and-throw-a-tantrum kind of way. But she did, and she dragged me along to every store that sold uniforms and ballet shoes and hair accessories and such, very much to my dismay.
It was odd though, I frowned and whined throughout the entire process...until I was pushed into the classroom for beginner ballerinas. I don’t know what it was that stunned me into silence, maybe it was the fact that the teacher was so magnificently beautiful and I was too gay to deal with it; perhaps it was the amount of girls thrown in one room, all giggling and chatting away like a group of best friends even though the majority had only just met. All I know is that I loved the athmosphere around me.
The ballet instructor, Miss Vazquez, was the sweetest woman I had every met, bless her soul. I was socially anxious, clumsy, and all-around awkward, but she didn’t let it stop her from patiently teaching me how to dance. I mean, to this day I have two left feet, but back then I had absolutely no body coordination. Still, each time I came remotely close to doing something right she would cheer and celebrate it like I was showing enough promise to become the next ballet legend. She taught me how to dance to the vibration of the music, since I’m deaf, and would always figure out new ways for me to improve. It came to the point where I convinced myself that I was in love with her, and that one day I would end up marrying her, when I was old enough.
I became obsessed with ballet. I practiced any time I could; if you’d met me back then, you would have seen me scrambling to finish my classwork or test before anyone else and begging my teachers at school to let me practice in the halls while the rest of the class finished. It was unhealthy, but I wanted to impress Miss Vazquez. She had so much faith in me, she was always reassuring me that I could be as good as any other ballerina if I dedicated myself to it. Miss Vazquez always noticed the improvements, would always praise my efforts. It was like a drug that left me dazed for the rest of the weekend.
Alas, it couldn’t last. The divorce of my parents were costing my mother a fortune, and she couldn’t afford to continue taking me to the ballet lessons. Not to mention that she needed to find someone to take care of my younger brother, who was a toddler at the time, and my grandmother was too sick to do it like she used to. So I stopped showing up.
I never got to say goodbye, and I never saw Miss Vazquez again. We never recovered financially, so I was never able to continue dancing. It was the first time I experienced heartbreak, but looking back, it was a beautiful kind of ache.
I hate that we are expected to compact our opinions, our feelings, our identities, into square, black and white little boxes and then label them and let that label decide who we are and how we’re treated by others. Humans, by nature, are so much more complicated than that, we aren’t perfect squares and so we can’t fit into the square boxes that our society so desperately tries to force us into. We’re more like squiggly lines that are all tangled and intertwined and going in every direction imaginable, like christmas lights after spending a year in the loft; they may all somehow be connected, but when you try to describe or make sense of it, it’s going to be hard and, a lot of the time, it will even be impossible. Human behaviour, emotions, and identity can’t be labelled perfectly, there’s always going to be a part that’s missing or something that doesn’t quite fit into the box. Think of it like trying to fit a trapezoid into a rectangle: there’s parts that are too big to fit, and then there’s areas that the trapezoid can’t fill at all. That is what labels are to humans. No matter how hard you try, you will not be able to perfectly fit somebody into a label without changing a vital part of what makes them who they are and that can cause so much emotional and mental damage.
lil gender (ig?) dysphoria vent ^__^
worst part about being unlabeled (mainly because labels are uncomfortable to you) for me is that my feelings towards gender identity are fluid—so much so that i used to be genderfluid and pronounfluid but all the labels were confusing.
I felt like I was constantly boxing my identity instead of living it to the fullest. (if that makes sense?)
The thing is—when you say you’re “unlabeled” (in which i sometimes feel dysphoric for labeling the term and other times not)
people usually opt for all gender neutral terminology, and I have nothing against gender neutral terms, like I said my feelings are fluid which in itself is so annoying.
because like?? one moment i’m like “this is it, I’m actually just [label] i’ve finally figured myself out” and then my feelings change.
i genuinely have NO CLUE why i’m like this, and it’s frustrating, i do stay with genderfluid crowds when i’m having these issues but even then I don’t want to label myself—especially when my feelings change and it makes me feel dysphoric.
but back to what i was saying, i have nothing against gender neutral terms, and also like i said I sometimes prefer them. but sometimes when it’s ONLY and STRICTLY gender neutral terms i feel dysphoric because sometimes i don’t feel gender neutral.
but i feel uncomfortable hounding anyone about my gender identity (and it’s shifts (and because i mainly have a white cishet christian conservative community and i’d rather not be publicly outed and shamed)) so i just sit through the dysphoria.
i just hate not knowing, i hate it fluctuating and i hate not having a solid feeling about my gender. i look at other lgbtq people in the community who seem like they have it all figured out—hell i look at other genderfluid people who also look like they have it all figured out too—but i don’t.
there’s not much i can do, and i know people will say (as they always have) that it’s a phase—which is like
1) life is all a bunch of phases
2) what do i do when my phases constantly change and have been changing most of my life?
i don’t expect to be accommodated 24/7 about this—trust me it’d be nice but i understand there are people in need who’s priorities are higher in which i want them to be accommodated first before anyone else.
i just dream of the day i have a small close knit group of other people who not only relate but are able to help validate me through my identity.
this might also be a relevant time to wonder if i may have autism or adhd. not saying that i have either
(although i’ve been getting close to self diagnosed and i’ve been wanting a screening for awhile)
or that having either is in any way inherent connected to my feelings in general—but i have a hunch,, suspicion,, dare i say hope? to maybe explain it all to me?
sorry if i don’t make sense this is just me rambling :>
