Zander's Inside Voice

I have not been back to posting regularly since the new year started. I have been feeling a block, actually. A dread almost, every time I think about what I want to write next. I have started two drafts and not finished them. When I do open up my computer, I avoid the WordPress tab on Chrome. It’s weird. I love writing, I love blogging, I have loved all of this since I started in July.

So what the heck is going on with me? I don’t feel super depressed like I thought I might. I generally feel happy, sometimes a little overemotional, but generally I am in a good place lately.

I do feel like there’s something deep going on inside me that I don’t want to face yet. This feeling that the old facade version of me has dropped behind Zander now. That the person everyone thought I was is almost gone. The less that I feel like I have to perform a role that pleases everyone, the more I feel the facade fading away. And it scares me. It scares me so much to let go of the shield I have worn for decades. It’s terrifying to present to the world the person I am; the person I have always been but was too scared to tell anyone.

I am so fortunate to have been born in NY state, where I can change my birth certificate to my chosen name and also I can correct the gender. But in doing that I will erase the facade. In doing that I will let go of what I was expected to be. The original birth certificate will sealed and hidden. I’m not sure if that means the record disappears completely and no one will ever find my original birth certificate. But what I will be left with is a birth certificate that has my parents name, my birth weight, length, and time, and my name that I chose for myself. Not my father’s last name either. It will be like birth-that moment are wiped away and all that is left standing is Zander.

That moment is what I want but also what I fear. The facade pushed Zander away when I was so young. It had to happen like that. I had to go on living, no not living, SURVIVING in a world that wasn’t ready for who I really was. I had to stop running with the boys and sit wistfully to the side, watching the guys’ friendships form, wishing I could still be with them. Feigning interest in relationships with them, when all I really wanted was to be friends. Now what I fear is that I am too far the other way. Socialized like a girl, conditioned to act and talk a certain way, no matter what I look like or what I am wearing, I will give myself away every time. But inside knowing that I actively refused to be girly my entire life, I never fit in as a girl either. I’ve had short hair most of my life and dressed androgynous to masculine as well. I tried the girly clothes, I really did, but nothing fit right. So why would I be scared to give up this identity that was assigned to me that has never fit me?

I guess it explains a lot about the world around us. If I lived on an island alone, and changing my name and identity to who I really am did not impact a single other person, I would do it in a heartbeat. I would not even question it. It would be so easy to just make it happen.

But I don’t live alone on an island and my decision impacts everyone who cares about me in some way. It feels like most of the world will think I’m a freak and other people will have to get used to my name and pronouns and all of that. I will have to change my name everywhere and in some instances it will take months or even years in the military’s case. Medical appointments will sometimes not be impacted, but some definitely will. It won’t be easy to just live my life the way I want to. It will be a constant thorn in my side, just like it’s always been.

In other news, I think I have achieved non-binary status, although that’s not what I consider myself. I took Boy #2 to a doctor’s appointment last week and the registration lady asked me for “Facade name’s social security number” like she didn’t know for sure that I was that person. I guess that’s a step in the right direction and definitely supportive of her for not making assumptions. She wasn’t snide about it at all so that was good. It’s so much better than when they say, “Any you are…?” And I am forced to say something and I never think to say parent. That’s what I want to say. I started to write parent on the sign-out sheet at school when I take someone out for an appointment. No one writes that. It’s always mom, dad, grandma. None of those fit me.

And I guess that’s why I have been avoiding blogging this month. It feels like nothing fits quite right at this point. I am too deep in my own head, too scared of what I feel and see in myself, and I am running from it. This is a very outdated and unhealthy coping mechanism for me. I need to face it and I want to face it. Thankfully I have two more therapy appointments this month and I can talk this out with my therapist. I’ve always struggled in the grey area and nothing feels more grey than this place where I am currently existing.