It began with a name...

So, lately I've noticed something. I'm in the middle of taking a truck driver's license and my instructor insists on calling me "Miss" at least once during every conversation. In fact, he calls every girl in the class "Miss". But here's the catch: He doesn't call the guys "Mister". I pointed it out to one of my colleagues who said she actually found it rather endearing. I told her it made me want to throw myself in front of a truck. Another colleague overheard me and wondered if I was becoming a feminist. I told him to sod off and made a rude hand gesture. He laughed. I wanted to throw him in front of a truck.

It's admittedly an urge I've felt increasingly these past few months and it all began with a name. More significantly my name. My given name. I work in the Danish army that apparently has taken on some sort of modern (and extremely annoying) trend to call people by their given names rather than their surnames. I don't like my give name. Not one bit. Even though I was named after a much loved great-grandmother, I have never felt connected to my name. It's only ever been a subject of teasing and ridicule and I've never felt like it defined me.

Words are very dear to my heart and I use them with great care. In my mind every word holds a certain emotion or image within it. No mix of letters is ever without a certain amount of thought behind it. Such as exasperated. You can almost hear the sigh or grunt of frustration as you pronounce the word exasperated. (I've reviewed that word time and time again as I've let out a sigh or grunt of frustration and exasperation as my colleagues keep on calling me by my given name.) Point of the matter is that I find words extremely important. Both the way the sound, but also what they mean and in which way they are used. Names are words, but they don't just hold a certain image or meaning - they hold an entire identity. The identity that my name holds isn't one I identify with. I've tried to mold myself to fit the identity that I associate with my name, but it doesn't work out. I don't want to be that person. Instead I tried to mold my name to fit my identity, but it just doesn't work that way. (Obviously it's all in my head. But as a very wise wizard once said: "Of course it's happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?") I could always change my name, but then comes the whole trouble of choosing a new name and implementing it. Not only officially, but also amongst my family, colleagues and friends. If it turns out that it's the wrong name I will have spent an extraordinary amount of energy on something that didn't end up making my situation any better.

It did get me thinking however. What is it about my name that is so bad? What is it about the identity that comes along with it that is so horrible I don't want to be associated with it? Then the whole "Miss" thing happened and it got me thinking even more. Is it because I don't want to be a girl? I've always been a tomboy. I never had anything in common with girls my age. (To be honest I didn't have very much in common with anyone my age, but that's another story entirely.) I identify strongly with many male stereotypes, while I shun many female stereotypes. Nothing gets me as endlessly -want-to-throw-myself-in-front-of-a-truck-frustrated than when it is pointed out that I am a woman. I hate it. Hate it even more than my name. I hate my gender and beyond all I hate myself. But I am a woman. Or rather, a girl. I look it, I sound it, and sometimes I feel it. What I hate about it being pointed out to me is that I can't change it. Even when I don't feel like a girl everyone still looks at me and sees a girl. Even when I feel like a guy, or when I don't feel like either, people still treat me like a girl. It's subtle. Mostly in the way of chivalry or flirting. Perfectly acceptable and even quite enjoyable when I feel like it. The trouble is when I don't feel like it. I look and sound very much like a girl. I have wide hips, so there's very little I can do to hide my body. But I'm a cross-dresser at heart. When I walk into a clothes store I'm automatically drawn to the men's department. I seldom buy anything, but I love the style and the fitting and I know that if I had that square, bulky kind of body needed for those kind of clothes I'd need an entire truck just for my wardrobe.

I just feel so desperately unhappy. I have always felt inadequate as a girl. Never skinny or pretty enough. I have never been able to be accepted as a guy, since I'm too girly. I'm a part of neither worlds. I just want to be able to go to work, without having a very insisting "Miss" thrown at me. I want to be able to be called by my given name without it sounding and feeling like nails on a chalkboard. I want my gender to have absolutely nothing to do with the person that I am. I just really don't know what to do in order to implement it, or rather, how to cope with the fact that I can't do a thing about how other people act towards me. Most of all, I guess, I just want someone to talk to who understands even a little bit.

*Here, have a cookie if you actually made it this far*