Gender Euphoria

by Laura Kate Dale

when I see someone dressed in that sort of fashion, I already trust them more, since punks are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met, even though they’re the kind of people that typical adults think are intimidating or dangerous. Crazy how wearing some spikes can be a symbol of acceptance, isn’t it? The ones in the mohawks and leather will be the first ones to say, ‘I’m adopting you, I’m your new parent,’ to young punks like me, who have been cast out by the environments they were raised in. I know from first-hand experience that being ‘adopted’ by established punks can mean the world when you have no one else to give you that kind of support. It really feels like finding family. Punk is a community of misfits helping misfits, minorities standing together and fighting for acceptance and equality. Every time I step into a crowd that already has its mosh pit in full swing, I feel euphoric, as though I’m surrounded by members of my real family rather than my bigoted biological one. To me, gender euphoria is the feeling I get when I look in the mirror and think, Oh yeah, that is me. Gender euphoria is when I don’t keep count of how many feminine or masculine items I’m wearing; I just wear what I want and don’t care what others think. Gender euphoria is being called by my preferred name and pronouns and knowing that I’m actually seen as genderless. It’s making earrings out of oestrogen or testosterone bottles and showing off top-surgery marks like battle scars. It’s Laura Jan...