A few nights ago I was presented with a rare opportunity to go out on a real date, on a weekend even! I eagerly made plans to attend Freakshow A-Go-Go, a collection of gender queer performers from around the country, including a few names I recognized from the Seattle scene. It promised to be entertaining, sexy, and fun. I hoped that it might help me figure out some of this gender stuff.
I did have a good time, but it wasn’t everything I’d hoped for. There were a few exceptional acts. The opening band, Last of the Red Hot Mamas featuring Coyote Grace, was perfect and set my expectations of the evening pretty high. I appreciate the Sophie Tucker reference as well. Charlie and Honey did an amazing burlesque routine to a song I’m fond of, “Strangers on a Train.” It was probably the sexiest moment of the evening.
The evening’s hostess, Aleksa Manila, is clearly several classes above most of the other performers. She handled the show’s rough spots with grace, poise, and good humor. And there were more than a few rough spots.
All that aside, it got me thinking about this issue of gender. Clearly, it’s not as simple as binary boy-or-girl and which bits you were born with. I’ve been really questioning my gender over the past 6 months or so. Am I a girl? What if I have more options?
Freakshow A-Go-Go disappointed me because it didn’t seem to say much about gender, other than to say that people cross traditional gender lines in lots of ways, to do lots of things. Which I guess is a big statement. But it wasn’t very sexy. Maybe gender doesn’t have anything to do with sexuality? How can that be?
Damn. More questions than answers. More things to think about.
It seems like being Queer is the new hip thing. I think I’m off of center enough to claim Queer. Maybe. But probably not Gender Queer. Gender Fluid is more accurate. I can be very flexible in my expression of gender depending on who I’m with.
Harold and I joke that we are both the same gender: boi. We have had amazing experiences while fucking where we both perceived me as male and him as female. We could actually feel my cock spurting cum inside his cunt. It’s awesome!
Femme sounds good too. Fierce Femme. Sassy Femme. I’m pretty femme, right? But it feels like hiding. I was raised to believe that women could do or be anything. Well, anything but avoid being victimized sexually. Femme seems shiny, like all of the glamour of being a girl without the trap of being a victim. Femmes kick ass, girls get raped.
That’s all my stuff, I know, and although I might sometimes identify as Femme, it seems like too small of a box. I like being a girl. I enjoy my female body, with the belly soft from pregnancies and the breasts that fed those babies. I love the squishy warmth of my cunt and the feel of my lovers inside me. I like the ways I get to express being a girl, like lingerie! But I can have all of that and still be a boi with my partner, right?
I think what I’ve learned about gender so far is that everyone is who they are and they get to express themselves in exactly the right way for them and everyone else should treat those choices with respect. But it still confuses me.