Gender identification & a long rambling story about my childhood

     So, here I am; a cis female who has identified as female my whole life. My problem is this: all my life, from childhood through adolescence and then adulthood, I have been misidentified as male. Well, as a child it would piss me off when someone called me a boy. I remember the first time a waitress called me "ma'am" without having to be corrected. I was thirteen. I beamed, wide-eyed at my mom. "She called me ma'am!" My mom gently acknowledged with(tbh my memory is a bit foggy, but to the best of my recollection) "Yes, because you're a young lady." I think I asked why she recognized it, or asked if it had to do with how I was wearing my hair. I had a chin-length sort-of bob and it had a sort of styled look to it. I'd worn a headband while my hair was wet, and it dried that way. Anyway, I had some hope, after than, that as I got older and perhaps grew out my hair, that more people would recognize me as female.
     Some relevant details for clarity: I frequently cut my hair into a pixie cut. When I turned 8, I had shoulder length hair. I suppose it had been growing out since some hair cut I'd gotten at some preschool age. As a child, I was on the swim team. My summers included lots of swim meets and swim practices. Long hair required swim caps, which I was strongly opposed to putting on. I didn't particularly like how they looked, despite how vain that was. But another important detail is that I grew up  in TN, hot and humid summers. One of those hot summer nights, my long hair was making me really warm and it was hard to sleep. My mom, clipped my hair up to get it off my neck. I loved it so much, I wore my hair like it the next day. After that, I asked my mom to take me to get my hair cut. She had a friend who cut her hair. We started making trips to see her. Having short hair was so much easier to maintain, it felt like I freed up so much time. I no longer had to put my hair in pony tail before riding in our 80s convertible. I've forgotten what kind of car. I only remember that the interior was a wine red, and that my step-sister drove it when she started driving. It felt great to feel the wind on my neck but not the whip-like strands of hair.
     Something else I liked about having short hair is that my grandparents liked it, and I liked their approval. It felt very special having short red hair in common with my grandmother. But another thing about me is that I've enjoyed wearing large, baggy clothes since childhood. I also grew up in the 90s when wide legged pants were a fad. You see where I'm going? Imagine a small child who looks about 8, even though they're 12, with short red hair, an over-sized sweatshirt (from her dad) and baggy blue jeans with grass stains on the knees. I enjoy getting my hands dirty. I am not interested or knowledgeable in conventional female activities.  Somewhere along the line, I got this idea that feminine was synonymous with weak and entitled. I felt, I feel female. I just wanted to be the strong and down-to-earth kind. I only knew one way to express that.
     It's a weird line to walk; strongly identifying with traditionally masculine values while feeling inherently feminine. I value the comfort of clothes from the men's department though I'm starting to appreciate how comfortable a dress is, when it fits properly. I'm starting to appreciate tighter pants, like skinny jeans or leggings which accentuate a feminine figure. Though I still wear them with either a t shirt and plaid button up or large sweater. Only a few years ago, I was at a healthy weight on the slim side. I got cold more often than I do today, about 20 lbs heavier. When winter came, I layered up. I was misidentified as a sir and it was infuriating, but second order confusing. Why had I reacted so strongly? The dude was nice enough and apologized. We chatted about good coffee, mostly because I was a barista and he was a customer. From the outside, it seemed like a really pleasant interaction. Internally, I was doing a lot of self calming. Deep breathing, de-escalating. I asked my trans friend, after the fact, if that was a glimmer of what it was like to be misgendered, and if that sort of thing was common for him. He said it was sort of like that for him, but thankfully it didn't happen that much any more.
     So my question is this- have I been misgendered, or is this experience something else? My desire to be identified (it isn't enough to know I am, I need others to know I am) as female is strong enough that it affects how I get dressed now, how I take care of my skin and nails, the scents I choose to wear, if I wear any. I do enjoy some things conventionally female. I feel like finding more acceptable ways to express my femininity has helped my sense of identity. I've also met more people who look like me where I live now, in CO. I think I'm just growing a casually feminine look, who can really dress it up occasionally, as long as the occasion is once or twice a year. I'm of the opinion that as someone who's been called sir, boy, he/him when I am a girl who goes by she/her/hers and "ma'am", I've been misgendered. But also, I've never heard of a cis-gendered person being misgendered like this before. Maybe it happens in a way that is hard to explain. Maybe what I'm experiencing is something else. A big difference is, once I point out that someone is wrong about my gender, they accept it. I've never argued with anyone about my gender, only corrected them. That stands out to me as the biggest difference. What, then, should I call this?

And that's it for my snow-day rambling, folks!

bout that time, eh, chap?

Righto.

I work in early childhood education. At work, the staff got a form of intention. You check boxes and fill in spaces about what age you'd like to work with and who you'd like to be your co-teacher. I am surprised but flattered that I got a couple of requests from my fellow teachers. I have decided what I'm doing, now I need to turn in the form. 

I didn't clean up the house tonight. I did hang out with Kevin while he added me to his insurance! We can do that because we're married now.

I made pesto pasta this morning and it was really good. I had it for lunch. Really, I want to go grocery shopping and make some food from the February Bon Appetit issue. Carla Lalli Music shared a recipe for risotto and mushrooms and thyme and oh my god, I want to make this happen. Also I want to make some recipes by Chris Morocco! I love to watch the BA test kitchen. I'm not going to ferment any time soon. Probably won't do any serious baking, either. Not while class is going on.

I think I'm going to enjoy being a student again. Connecting with other students is nice.

Tomorrow is Thursday, which is almost Friday, and next week is short!

Whimsical Wednesday

"Toss a coin to your Witcher, oh valley of plenty!" That's the soundtrack to my mind. Well, it alternates between that and "The Goldfish (Let's go swimming). Thank you, Laurie Berkner Band. 

I started over on Breath of the Wild. It's great fun to see what gave me trouble the first time. Of course now I'm just messing up in all new ways. I want to play Skyrim next because I want to be a sneaky Archer. 

If all goes well I will start classes soon, ECE. I forgot that academia is jumping through one hoop after the next. I ought to have taken early childhood education while I was getting my bachelor's degree in the first place. I was hyperfocused on art and Spanish. Oh, well.

I visited the ceramic studio at work. It was a sight to behold. I was less enthused by the people in the studio but I miss clay so much. I don't care how people act, as long as I get to stay and make pottery.

I think I see why I'm so tired in the morning. Late nights and early mornings.

A New Decade

     I am up late-ish and needed to share some thoughts with another mind. I'd honestly forgotten about this blog, but here I am. It's January 1st, 2020. I'm drinking berry ginger hard kombucha and I'm reflecting on new years resolutions. Here comes background info, for the sake of my own train of thought. First, I am married now since December 23rd, 2019. Second, hubs and I are living our best lives in colorful Colorado. Third, I worked for Starbucks for a couple of years in Kentucky before we moved here. Fourth, while I was in Kentucky, I took more psychology classes in order to pursue art therapy. Unfortunately, that did not work out because I did not ever hear a yes or no from the college where I'd applied for the master's program. Finally, I found a job with the JCC, that's Jewish Community Center, as a teacher. I love my kiddos so much. I have the best co-teacher. Anyway, without further ado...
     My resolutions this year are simple ideas.
1) I will improve my self-esteem by being an advocate for myself. No more dismissing my own desires just because they're mine.
2) I will take a hard look at my desires. Are they avoidant? Are they fearful? Time to act boldy and intentionally.
3) I will go to the doctor, consistently, in order to take care of my body, mind, and emotions.
4) I will take Kevin on the best camping trip ever.
5) I will make healthy eating decisions while striving towards a plant-based diet, but ultimately keep my physical and mental health top priority.
6) I will prioritize creative endeavors of any medium or subject matter with an eye towards completion. "Finish what you started, human."
7) I will adopt, with Kevin's help, a smol fren for Cappy.
8) I will become lead certified and acquire a director's certificate.
9) I will get one or more tattoos.
10)I will spend more time with friends, whether in person or otherwise. The point is to reach out and check in with those I love.