Oh, look. Another anonymous journal from someone in their early adulthood describing their nebulous fears and worries that they can’t own up to in their everyday life. Not exactly original subject matter, is it?
Well, no. I suppose it isn’t. But I’m not doing this as something to stand as an original piece of art. To chase after originality in all things will only leave you stymied in a creative abyss. Instead, I’m here to create what I know. It’s been done before, I’m sure, but it’s not been done by the great mass of experiences, memories and perspectives that is me.
Or us, if we’re following this conceit through, surely?
I suppose so. I must admit, I didn’t intend for this journal to be written in the style of an interview. But my method of writing has always leant heavily on rhetorical questions and a focus on dialogue. One of the pieces of work I’m most proud of is a short story that takes the form of one person talking in a creepy fashion at the reader, with implied responses. I’ve just decided that this exploration of my experiences could be best portrayed through a similar method.
There is some logic in that, to be sure, even if it may come across as a little pretentious. But hey, it’s your blog. Or… our blog. I suspect this question of identity may be a recurring theme. Also, you do realise you’re likely going to be extremely self-critical when giving form to your thoughts in this manner, yes?
True. One could argue that may be an excellent form of therapy, honestly. But my anxiety and self-depreciating manner are core parts of the entity that is me. And when writing a blog that is very much describing a journey of self-discovery, I think that’s apt.
Fine. Are you actually going to tell the poor readers what the point of this blog is, then?
Sounds like a plan. To explain the circumstances: As far as the majority of the world is concerned, I am a happily married, straight, cisgendered man. And honestly, in terms of privileged positions and experiences, that’s a pretty good position to be in. Therein lies the problem: the happily married part is certainly true, with my wife being fully privy to all of my internal trials and tribulations, but the other two are pretty far from the mark. I consider myself bisexual, and I’ll discuss why I wouldn’t consider myself pansexual in a later post. This is something I tend to allude to and don’t deny when I’m asked about it, but I certainly don’t volunteer the information. As for cisgender… well that one is something I keep much closer to the chest.
You realise you’re still trying to shy away from putting it into words, right? Just spit it out, no need for all this dissembling.
Yes. Right. So the best term I’ve found in general parlance to fit my particular feelings is genderqueer, leaning more towards the feminine side of the gender slider in terms of preference. I’m not particularly fussed about pronouns, per se, but the fact that my body is a great hulking lump of man-meat when I would so much prefer to be at least a little androgyne is pretty depressing. Interestingly, folk who have known me for a fairly long time do tend to describe me as “not really a guy,” with the first time that I was told this actually starting my brain working on a self-examination of who and what I am. But in terms of appearance, I am in fact a superhero by the name of Man Man. And I honestly don’t feel safe in revealing how little that first impression is true beneath the surface. My workplace does its best to be inclusive, but that still leaves me with zero confidence that my life wouldn’t be torn apart if I started to reveal more of my gender-identity in everyday life.
And that’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?
Bingo. This rambling medium is intended as a way of me expressing myself as I am. A way of me describing myself without the veils of deceit, but instead through the safety blanket of anonymity. I’m going to try and be as open as I can be, about my exploration into this self I’m just finding out about. And I’d like to bring you with me on that little metaphorical journey.
Excellent. I’ll pack my metaphorical suitcase.
… I mean, I was actually talking to the reader there, but sure. Let’s have a nice non-existent road trip all together. All of us. Welcome to my little space in the internet. Welcome to The Duality. I’m Voice F, but you can call me Effie.
And I’ll be here too, providing the actually useful and thought-provoking elements of the conversation. I’m Voice M, but we’ll go for Emmet to give you something a bit less “HAL 9000” to visualise.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy our time together.