The blurry space between gender expression and gender identity

I feel like my closet had some complicated architecture. Shame to me has functioned as self-closeting denial for a loooong time. There was shame about being sexual at all. There was body shame about not having a "perfect" body. There was masturbation shame. There was the heavy closet door about liking girls (made of steel and also equipped with one of those self closing mechanisms to slam back shut every time I attempted to open it). And there's this door about gender that seems to be a revolving door attached to one of those portals from Sliders, and every time I try to go through it, I wind up somewhere else.

I am glad that I am at least out to myself consistently now about liking ladies. Winning. Good job, me. And, I'm sexuality-out to a number of friends and family members. Yay! Good job, again, me! But, I can't seem to nail down this moving target about gender issues. I think I have some fundamental confusion about the difference between gender identity and gender expression, kinda how my mom was fundamentally confused about orientation and gender identity.

Like, I kind of think that my deal is that I'm SUPER fascinated (and frequently aroused by) being able to play around with an extremely wide range of gender expression, and I'm extra fascinated by the zone that includes both masculine and feminine elements. Recently saw this strap on harness for sale that was pink with polkadots, with a big ole toy coming out of it, and I was like, YES I WANT TO WEAR THAT. Like, do I wish my actual parts were dude parts? No. I mean, maybe if I could be a shapeshifter and change around at will, that would be cool. I like the idea of having options. I like the idea of having kind of a collection of parts that could be mine on any particular day. I really want to find a way to make my boobs interchangeable, too, like, today I shall squish them away, tomorrow I will put myself in an underbust corset and make my boobs act as a chin rest.


Sigh. I think Mystique from XMen might be my spirit animal. I should go read that Brian K Vaughn mini series about her.

I have had a fascination with the idea of strapons before I knew they were a thing. And a fascination with soft packing before I knew it was a thing. I bought an inexpensive (read not very good) packer a while back, and my mind shattered looking at myself with it. I was sooooo happy. When I first heard of STP devices (thanks, random episode of the Stuff Mom Never Told You podcast!) I mostly thought that could be convenient while camping or while in a cosplay that had crazy belts, but I had no interest in a realistic looking one. Like, sure, disposable cardboard is fine. But today I was looking at some realistic STP devices, and it was extremely appealing, largely because of the positioning of the junk seeming more true than strap ons, and partly because the actual idea of standing up to pee seemed really awesome in addition to occasionally convenient.

Even when I'm thinking about toys (which I do a lot these days) I have a kind of love hate relationship with whether or not I want a toy to be realistic. If I'm picturing a girlfriend of mine strapping, nope, that thing needs to be all kinds of weird shape and colors for me to be ok with it. Can't be realistic at all. If it's for me, well, soft packing needs to be realistic, because, what else are you doing that for? But, for other stuff, sometimes realistic seems cool, and sometimes it seems terrible. Like, no, please right now go get me one of those crazy color striped things from Smitten Kitten.

Like, I just want all of the options. Sometimes I think maybe it's kind of like how athletes who use prosthetics have multiple prosthetics, for different purposes depending on what they want or need (or want) to do, like a different food for rock climbing than for running. Part of me is like, downstairs at least, gee how lucky I am that I could change things based on the need. Changing things around for me upstairs is tough because body type (I will resist complaining about ample boobs), but, I do like how my body is made the vast majority of the time.

Hmm... Is Mr./Mrs. Potatohead actually my spirit animal? This could get weird.... yet accurate....

.... But it's not even like I'm really **doing** much or even want to **do** much with all of these cool toys that I do not own, which does not support the mountain climber prosthetic description. It's almost like a prosthetic for my brain as much as for my body... There's something about it that reminds me of that mirror intervention they use for amputees to reduce phantom limb pain, except I am never really in pain without it, but when I see these parts that aren't there in the mirror, it feels great and powerful and strong and like it's mine. But, it's not like it's missing when it isn't there. More like, super bonus if I choose it right then and it is there.

Clothes, too. Sometimes I want to totally dress like a man. Sometimes I want to femme it up. Sometimes I'm super happy to figure out how to do both at the same time. With clothes, only undies really feel sexual. Like, I don't get turned on by my flannel. I feel safe and strong in my flannel, but not automatically ready to go.

Sometimes I feel like I'm a smidgen gender fluid, but I almost always really identify as a woman. I feel, like, gender-expression fluid, but with a bit of a cross dressing hobby, which is sometimes fetishistic and sometimes not.

I don't know. I don't need a label, exactly. I need to figure out how to describe my own experience to myself. The more I have explored this stuff and been honest with myself about this stuff, the more I have felt happy and proud of myself. But, there's no way I could ever talk to other people in a concise way until I have some kind of language to express it to myself, even if that language is a 5 page essay.