Nicole Field's Blog, page 29

OkCupid Is Opening Up to Polyamorous Relationships

OkCupid Is Opening Up to Polyamorous Relationships:

jennyspolynow:

THIS JUST IN!!!

OK Cupid has been my go-to dating site for close to five years and now I can see why.  They actually pay attention to what their users’ wants and interests are.  Seeing this almost made me cry tears of happiness because one of the hardships I have found with poly dating is the time it takes explaining what poly is and how it works.  Now I will be able to connect with people who are familiar with it already.  This is going to cut out so much work.  Thank you, OKC!!!

Please read and reblog!!

Oh this is fantastic. @polyglittery @autumn-hedonia

Multi-Gendered Identity, Pt 2.

The first post I wrote on this held the force of excited, agitated, eager information that just demanded to find form, to be written and refused to let me sleep until I had. This post has come more slowly, requiring multiple edits, and giving me more time to consider.

Originally, I was going to dedicate a large part to proving with my words of past experience why I feel comfortable in identifying as multigendered. And then I realised I don’t have to do that. The fact that I identify is enough in itself. It doesn’t need proof.

That left me with the idea of wanting to write a further post on this experience of discovery, but not a lot of content to write.

I guess… the most liberating part of this realisation is finding that I’m not alone. I know so many people within the trans community; female-to-male, male-to-female, non-binary. I don’t personally know anyone who experiences more than one gender, rather than expressing as femme when they identify as male, or masc when female. 

That this identity is present enough in terminology and understanding, that there are muliple words already in use–all gendered, multigendered, bigendered, trigendered, polygendered, among others–helps me to understand how to express my own experience and enter into a community.

Second to that is what comes with this realisation: that I can be free to express my thoughts, feelings, emotions in whatever gender. Honestly, most people expect this of me anyway; I can’t even count the number of times I’ve pointed out being ‘a guy’ in this or that situation, or being 'the guy’ in a relationship. In a way, I feel like having this label, being aware of it, will almost make me feel like I don’t need to be as forceful in SHOWING myself to be male as well as female every. single. time. it comes up. I don’t think I need to say it, but it’s not about having "masculine tendencies", but simply my BEING male at times, no matter how I’m dressed, the register of my voice or the reproductive and sexual anatomy I possess.

But, directly counter to that sense of freedom is my own continuing tie to the comfort of old labels. Because I have identified as a cis woman for at least most of the time I’ve known that label existed, it has become a part of my identity. Being a “cis woman” crossed my mind just before sleep last night, and I felt a sharp pang of discomfort, followed by mourning of what I felt like I’d have to leave behind to identify like this.

What would it be like to be in a place where, when asked in person, I answer that I’m actually multigendered. Tumblr creates this safe place for people like us, a distance of computers between people, and a safety block button. Certainly it’s a safe place to start sharing how exciting these new terms are, exploring our identities with no legal or other ramifications.

I’m not ready for that. Last night, replete with the knowledge that I had put into perfect words what I wanted to express, I considered what it would be like the first time someone called me Sir, Mister, or He. I felt a kind of giddy excitement of something existing in a divorced fantasy landscape, but something that would be quite confronting if found in the real world. I honestly don’t know how I’d act. Similarly, despite my extreme excitement in the singular 'they’, that’s not my pronoun set either. That’s not what I’m asking or wanting, to change my gender pronouns.

“Cis woman” is still at least half true of me. I don’t want to throw that away just because I’m embracing the rest of me.

This morning, as I started composing this post, I thought of what it might be like ticking the 'Other’ box in typical Male / Female / Other questionnaire dichotomy. I was okay with that. I am okay with that. Small starter steps.

Multi-Gendered Identity, Pt 1.

In 2014, a TV series called Faking It came out from MTV. Originally, it was the premise of a lesbian and her best friends “faking” being lesbians for the popularity that got my attention. Pretty soon after that, I was arrested by the side character of the intersex teen played by Bailey De Young.

What is intersex, I asked myself. Why haven’t I heard of this before? 

In the first season, at least, the character of Lauren and what it meant that she was intersex wasn’t really developed beyond the fact that she had parts of both male and female genders, and that she took pills for the “condition”. I went elsewhere to find out that intersex was the term adopted in the medical industry to replace the term “hermaphrodite”.

Late 2014 was also when I met the darling and amazing @deerishus​ who kindly allowed me to sit up with them all night, multiple times, and ask all kinds of questions about what it meant to identify as non-binary.

In November 2015, Dahlia Adler and Elliot Wake (then Leah Raeder) put on this amazing pod cast / interview that dedicated a whole section to the importance of changing identity labels, that finding ones that work “for now” is fantastic, as is being able to use the internet and places specifically like Tumblr or Twitter to interact with other people who might know or be using other labels that might more comfortably fit your identity.

I honestly haven’t stopped thinking of this, so much so that it’s featured in the article I wrote for the upcoming issue #1 of RANT Zine.

Since then, I’ve followed literary non-binary and trans writers on Twitter, read blog posts and reposted the ones I’ve really identified with.

I’ve also, perhaps interestingly, read every single. book concerning. intersex characters. I’ve been able. to get my hands on.

This may seem a bit obsessive, but at least half of these books I picked up only to THEN find included an intersex character within. 

I’ve found myself frustratedly asking why there isn’t an opposing word for non-binary, meaning not fitting into either of the binary genders, before feeling like I wanted to cry since the obvious answer is ‘binary’. THAT’S NOT THE ANSWER I’M WANTING. 

I’ve found myself stuck in a way of feeling that was steadily more envious of these intersex characters, jealous that I could not and did not have both the reproductive or sexual anatomy that doesn’t seem to fit the typical definitions of female or male but, rather, both. 

I’m asking myself, if there are currently at least two words for having the physical representation of both of the two binary genders, WHY isn’t there a word for the mental representation of both of the two binary genders? 

Simple answer? There is. At midnight tonight I keyed in the words ‘all gender identity’ into Google, hardly even hoping for anything and not even knowing what I was looking for or expecting to find. 

All-gendered led to multigendered led crying which led to not being able to sleep for thinking of this blog post, which led to this blog post, which has led to a quietly contented smile on my face, and it is now one in the morning. 

Part Two.

I went to this year’s Midsummer Faerie Rade on Sunday and, as...

I went to this year’s Midsummer Faerie Rade on Sunday and, as promised here there are photos. I’m not… 100% sure, but I suspect some of these shots have been doctored. At least, I don’t remember those sparkles on the day…

The day started, as it always does, with the car parking. The boy and I were running fairly on time, but there were already a huge crowd gathering under the usual tree. It was the gorgeous Antoinette who was this years ‘guild leader’, hosting the Rade and running us down Bourke Street, along Elizabeth, back up Collins and into the Treasury Gardens. I wish there had been some photos taken of the small group of us who entertained the locals and hopefully helped the buskers in dancing around them on the corner of Bourke and Elizabeth while the rest of the Rade caught us up midway. 

Once back at the gardens, the picnicking began. I started with some dear friends before they disappeared off to Midsumma, then wondered across towards what had unexpectedly become our poly tribe picnic. I got to meet a new metamour for the first time, hung out with a partner I hadn’t expected to see, and generally ate too much and ended up with many fancies. I only hope that the people who received my crocheted gifts enjoy them just as much.

Photoed here are Antoinette and I leading the Rade back towards the gardens, the boy, @polyglittery, and her new beau taking a usual group shot, and me having no idea that I looked quite so fae, doctored by someone I don’t even know otherwise I’d totally credit. :D 

Finally, the lovely new metamour herself, all decked up in her owlish best, and Antoinette and I all but taking to the sky on our wings and Mary Poppins wings stand-in. A wonderful time was enjoyed by all.

I read this book because it scores an A+ on the diversity exams....

I read this book because it scores an A+ on the diversity exams. Black main protagonist, disability/disorder, bisexuality. It also showed up on a list with a bunch of other books I’d recently read recently and loved, so when I found it at my library on the weekend, I was ecstatic. 

And then I started reading it in little doses. Because, although the main story is about a bisexual girl who wants to get out of Nebraska being bullied by her lesbian support/friendship group at school for suddenly going and daring to date a boy, a big part of her identity is anorexia.

And man the depictions of being anorexic, and the mindsets you get pulled into are graphic. And when I say ‘graphic’, I mean ‘accurate as FUCK’. Not just that, but she’s not “as bad” as one of the other characters, so there’s also her personal analysis on how she’s not a “real anorexic” because hell at least she eats. And I just felt guilty for eating and also feeling so. damned. glad. that I can again. 

So, the first half of this book was challenging. And, in a way, I felt disappointed because it wasn’t as well written as The Fault in Our Stars, which is forever my best go-to on challenging texts, but I didn’t feel the same need to keep reading. I mean, I obviously did. 

And then, I don’t know. 

Something changed, and I… It was suddenly this empowering as FUCK story about a bunch of teens who don’t know what they’re doing, where they’re going, but they’re making these decisions anyway, and they are all doing the best they can, and I’m just holding my hand to my chest reading avidly. 

I mean, the main cast of characters all kind of speak like me and my friends, but this really caught me in the second half of this book, because so many of these guys could have been me and my friends, minorities, and people who feel passionately about the various arts. 

Yeah, there were specifics about this book that didn’t gel specifically with me and mine, but that didn’t matter, because it was just such a strong message of be yourself and find your strength and just be, and I loved the hell out of that and wanted more. 

I’m reading this book at the moment because it’s scores an A+ on...

I’m reading this book at the moment because it’s scores an A+ on the diversity exams. Black main protagonist, disability/disorder, bisexuality. It also showed up on a list with a bunch of other books I’d read recently and loved, so when I found it at my library on the weekend, I was ecstatic. 

And now I’m reading it in little doses. Because, although the main story is about a bisexual girl who wants to get out of Nebraska being bullied by her lesbian support/friendship group at school for suddenly going and daring to date a boy, a big part of her identity is anorexia.

And man the depictions of being anorexic, and the mindsets you get pulled into are graphic. And when I say ‘graphic’, I mean ‘accurate as FUCK’.  Not just that, but she’s not “as bad” as one of the other characters, so there’s also her personal analysis on how she’s not a “real anorexic” because hell at least she eats. 

And I’m just like feeling guilty for eating and also feeling so. damned. glad. that I can again. 

So, it’s challenging. And, in a way, I’m disappointed because it’s not as well written as The Fault in Our Stars, which is forever my best go-to on challenging texts, but I don’t feel the same need to keep reading. I mean, I will. It’s an important narrative in its own right. But reading something challenging kind of makes you want to have just as compelling a reason in the other direction to really keep going. 

7 Months On

TW: Past Suicidal Ideation.

On the morning of Saturday June 20th last year, on my way into work, I was driving down a still partially darkened street when I saw headlights coming my way, beating down on me from my lane. With a scream, I slammed on the brakes, then watched in shock as the car streamed by.

Then I railed at myself. Immediately, and for several weeks. I imagined myself as I could have been: in a hospital, with loved ones around me understanding that I couldn’t do anything other than read and not expecting anything of me because I’d obviously had an awful physical experience.

And then, even imagining the worse outcome didn’t faze me. I would have died still surrounded by all the people who loved me at the time. They would have gone to my funeral, grieved, all the appropriate, normal things of that kind of circumstances. And then they would have gone on with their lives.

Just after midnight yesterday morning, I was driving home, a different road, but the same headlights rushing forward in my lane.

I’d given myself such a hard time, railing against the instinct part of my brain that had decided stopping was a good idea, for so long that that wasn’t my first reaction. I questioned what was the correct course in this situation.

I was staring at the oncoming head lights and actually considered, consciously, whether to simply keep driving forward, into an accident that would never be viewed as my fault.

I didn’t want to, but I kind of wasn’t sure why. This is it. This is the make up of that situation I’d so regretted instinct took away from me seven months ago. The recreation of it. Here it was again and, according to so much reinforced thought, to keep driving forward was the right thing to do.

I made the conscious decision, sorting through the reasons why not, and then pulled over to the side of the road.

I thought of the people who are part of my life. My Janey, her husband, my godchildren. My Joe and his beautiful daughter. I want to see those kids grow up. The new metamour that I met yesterday for the first time. I thought of my best friend of 14 years and the unlikely story that has led us to where we are now. I thought of his wife, who is fast becoming one of my favourite people to casually while away full days with.

I thought of my boy, at home less than a kilometre away, our cats. How could I go without having a chance to tell him goodbye, to hug him one last time?

I’ve never been particularly attached to a long life, but ending it here seemed like it would make it just too short, and not right.

And also, I thought… of myself. Of the conversations I’ve been having. Of the thoughts I’ve been thinking. Of the fact that I’m only just starting to realise how intelligent I am, not inferior to everyone with bigger, better academic brains. I can keep up with the best of them, and help people to understand things they hadn’t considered before. I’m interested and passionate and people gravitate to me on both intellectual and emotional levels.

I want to see where that leads. I want to see how much better my writing can end up being in another three years, since it’s dramatically improved in that number of years just gone. I want to listen to songs, new songs and old. I want to see how this crazy life of mine develops with the lessons I’ve picked up in just the last year. Nothing that has happened to us is for no reason, and I keep viewing things differently after every new thing.

I slowed, pulled over and–as the oncoming car sailed past uncaring and I pulled back onto the road–I found I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. A smile that had life and the appreciation of it reaffirmed.

If it had have happened two days later, that would have been really freaking poetic. But, as it was, it was just amazing. 

shorelle:here we are now, with the falling sky and the rain ...

shorelle:

here we are now, with the falling sky and the rain
     we’re awakening ♪

one of the scenes I would really love to see (as I’m sure many people have thought of!) is Rey experiencing her first rainfall ☺ also because “Awakening” has become one of my theme songs for TFA and all the new kids, there’s something about it which is very beautiful and fits so well thematically ;;

AND BONUS PIC: Finn + Rey (+ Poe’s jacket of a thousand uses (〃▽〃) )

I know it was destined to go wrongYou were looking for the great...

I know it was destined to go wrong
You were looking for the great escape
To chase your demons away

For so long I’ve tried to shield you from the world

Self Care Jan ‘16

I haven’t been taking care of myself. I’ve been doing too much. Not stopping, not even pausing. I have so much in my life, so many joys, arts, people, work, weather, books. Enjoying everything because everything’s been coming at me and I’m finally able to enjoy things outside my house again. 

I’m exhausting myself. Late nights and not enough sleep. Forgetting to eat. Dancing for hours. Wandering around the city full of crowds of peoplepeoplepeople. Alone time is boring, and there are so many interesting people I could surround myself with, so many events I could go to, that are AMAZING.

I’ve been feeling a crash coming since yesterday morning, and I know this feeling, this warning. I say this with a broad smile on my face because I know I’m not sixteen and I don’t think I’m invincible anymore. I need to tread carefully for a while, settle in on some sunny couches, listen to my music, watch some Raymond Reddington, get some sleep and just… slow… the fuck… down. 

17 days into the best year I’ve had for a long time. It’s going to keep being amazing. I just need to slow down enough to take the moments to enjoy it.