This came from a conversation I had with my brilliant friend Chelsea.

We were talking about the trauma of childhood neglect. Moments in a person’s childhood when their parents/important people in their lives weren’t present for them or didn’t show up for them/give them the love or care that they needed.

When we are children and that happens, we internalize that inability to show up to us as a product of something lacking either with us or with our behavior (that may even be the message we are receiving from our caretakers), and the only thing we have in our power as children to do is to try to adjust ourselves or our behavior in order to affect the outcome of finally receiving the love that we need. We didn’t have the maturity to know that it wasn’t about us, that our parents/caretakers were human beings with their own traumas and shortcomings that hindered their ability to show up for us (because, honestly, those are likely all the ways they couldn’t even show up for themselves). Then we become adults and we do this in our adult relationships. We believe that if we just perform to perfection, the people we love will give us the love we want and need.

We deserve to have love that does not require us to perform perfectly in order to receive it because we are going to have human moments, and we deserve to have love that can be present for us in moments of our humanity. In truth, that was also what we deserved back then when we were children, too.

And that “humanness” is going to be subjective. Our “human moments” are going to look different from another person’s human moments but we deserve love that shows up for our individual human moments. If we have love from from someone that shows up to us only in the human moments that person allows us to have (likely because those are the only ones they allow *themselves* to have), and not in the actuality of what our individual humanity looks like, it’s not going to be able to authentically meet your needs. If a person’s love can only be present for you in the human moments you have that mirror what their human moments look like, then that person is not fully seeing you, they’re only seeing themselves.

We also deserve to have love that does not require that we always live up to our own standard of perfection in order for us to receive it. This is the love that we should give to ourselves, too.

We deserve to have love that very much sees us and sees our humanness and says “I recognize that this person is a human being, and this is a moment when they are showing up human, yet this love for them can still be present in this moment. This love isn’t withdrawn in this moment because it does not require that this person shows up in a very specific way in order to receive it.”

I think this is what is meant by “unconditional love”.

I also want to add that if your “human moments” are moments of inappropriate harm or abuse, that a person can and should remove themselves from their relationship with you and that doesn’t mean that they do not love you. They should love themselves as much to not allow themselves to continue to be harmed by you.

We deserve to have love that does not require that we perform humanity to someone else’s version, or even our own version, of what “perfect” is in order for us to receive it. We deserve to have love that can fully see us in moments where our individual humanity comes through and still be present for us. Though we will not always be perfect, we are always perfect for love.

Some time ago, I attended an event for women wishing to reconnect to their sensuality. The facilitator discussed her self-pleasure practice, ritual, ceremony. She said that she pulls out all the stops for herself. Lingerie, candles, perfume. She prepares for her self-pleasure time like she would prepare for an encounter with a lover.

It was such an intriguing concept to me. I don’t masturbate often, even though I enjoy it, and when I do, it’s in a very “quick fix” kind of way, usually during the RARE moments that I’m home alone, like after I drop the kids off for school. I grab my toys, dive right in, and am finished (several times over) in five minutes or less. Realizing now that I’m a very wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am lover to myself.

I determined to adopt this more intentional self-pleasure practice for myself and make it a personal ritual during times when Kevin (my husband) was away for the weekend with one of his other partners. Those are perfect opportunities because I have the bedroom to myself and I like to utilize those occasions to reconnect to my ability to bring pleasure to myself. But I never did it. I planned to but never executed it and then I forgot about it.

Fast forward to last night. I’m home alone and feeling lonely. And for some odd reason, I’ve been feeling particularly amorous lately. My partner lives too far to just come over and while I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t consider it, finding some random person to hookup with just wasn’t appealing to me. Especially in light of the ‘Rona. Getting myself off was the only viable option.

I initially was just going to do what I always do. A quick five-minute tryst and I’m good. I’ve recently been reading “Pleasure Activism” and I’m mulling over the concepts in the book, particularly the ones around self-pleasure and appreciation. The way Adrienne Maree Brown talked about her unabashed enjoyment of her body is striking and impressive. It also highlighted for me how far away I am from feeling that way about my own enjoyment of my body. There’s even an exercise suggested where she challenges the reader to spend some time engaging in explorative nipple play with themselves or a partner. The reflections on what I’ve been reading reminded me of my former plan to set up an evening for myself.

I went upstairs and set the scene. Incense, candles, my playlist of sexy music on the speaker. I put some scented self-love oil on my skin and took a few puffs off the partial joint I found on my dresser. I also replaced the batteries in my jack-rabbit vibrator so it would be at full strength. When the mood was in place, I laid down on my bed ready to get started.

Initially, it was *awkward* and I didn’t know how to feel about it being awkward. I noticed that I didn’t see this as something I *get* to do but as something I *had* to do because I had no other options and that perception made me feel a little pitiable. Not the feeling I was going for. If I am not excited about having myself as a lover, how can I expect someone else to be? I reminded myself to let go of judgment and instead access curiosity. Observe whatever feelings and thoughts came up from a place of inquiry instead of criticism. Be a student of myself in the experience instead of analyzing all the ways I wished I was showing up differently to the activity. It very much mimicked the thoughts and feelings and awkwardness that comes when I am sleeping with someone for the first time.

I also became aware that I have been avoiding laying in my bed since Kevin and I ended our romantic relationship. I hadn’t even realized that I had been doing that. It doesn’t feel the same anymore and laying there in our bed, doing something similar to what we used to do in our intimate time together, when we don’t really have an “our” anymore brought forward some of the sadness about my marriage ending that is my constant companion these days. I found myself on this bizarre train of thought, comparing myself and my inability to drop into the space and focus on what I was doing to my lack of knowing myself fully and what pleases me and that maybe that contributed to his romantic desire for me waning and that maybe his other partners show up “better” than me in this way and that’s why he wants them and not me. Dark as fuck. I muttered to myself “Ok, ‘Vita, not off to a good start.”

Which made me laugh. I actually laughed a lot. I laughed at how ridiculous it felt. I laughed at the silly thoughts that came to my mind. I find a person’s ability to make me laugh very attractive and the fact that I could make myself laugh means that I have an attribute that I find sexy. After I got the giggles under control, the party finally got started.

I started by simply touching my body slowly and deliberately. My neck, my shoulders, my arms, my breasts. Using the suggested activity from the book as a guide, I spent attentive concentrated time on my nipples, probably paid them more attention than they’ve ever received in my life, by me or anyone else. I caressed my thighs, undulated my hips provocatively to the music playing, stood in the mirror and watched myself dancing naked while smoking the rest of that joint, feeling the high, inhaling my scent of arousal. I was surprised at how much my body responded to me. I thought about recording what I was doing to share with my partner but decided against it. Doing that would have taken the time that I was designating for myself and connecting it to another person. I needed this to be about me with me for me.

I took my time. I was determined to be a curious, patient, deliberate lover to myself. I positioned myself in front of the mirrored door across from my bed so I can watch myself. I wanted to see what my lovers see when they are pleasing me. Be turned on by the way my back arches as the energy of desire rises, by how my face looks when I gasp, watch my hands full of the flesh of my breasts. I turned on my toys and I began to use them but not hurriedly. I didn’t make a mad dash to orgasm. I allowed my climax to be prolonged in coming (pun intended) and drew it out. When I felt the peak of the wave just about to crash on the shore, I stopped what I was doing and let the tide go back out to the ocean. I made it less about the destination and more about the journey.

It felt luxurious, remarkably so. Usually when I masturbate, I think of some ridiculous porn scenario or some concept or person I find sexy to get off. I didn’t have to do that this time. I was so focused on remaining present with myself, I couldn’t think of anything else. The intensity of arousal I generated with only me in bed with me was astonishing.

At last, I could take no more teasing. I was ready to release. My ragged breaths became audible moans and I held on tightly as my entire body coursed with the electricity of my climax, kinetic and powerful. I rose and fell and rose again. I spoke affirmations over myself with each surge of pleasure, using the energy of creation to declare what I am worthy of. Joy, Pleasure, Abundance, Protection, Provision.

And this time, I said MY name when I came.

Now with most states on lockdown due to social distancing guidelines, nested partners are probably having to interact in ways with their partners other relationships that they may not have in the past. A common thing in polyamory I hear single and non-nested partners complain about when dating nested people is not being able to call them when they want, or only hearing from the person when their nested partner isn’t home or when the person is in transit somewhere (on the way home from work, going to the store, etc).

Usually, the person is doing that to avoid making their nested partner jealous or uncomfortable, which is understandable, but it also limits the other partners, prioritizes the feelings of the nested partner over the feelings of the other partners, and makes the other partners feel like a “secret”. And now that we are social distancing, there IS no going to work or the store or waiting until your partner isn’t home.

So what do you do to keep in contact with your non-nested partners while at home with your nested one? What do you do if you ARE the nested partner who gets uncomfortable when your partner is communicating with their other loves in your space? A handy guide for both:

“What do you do to keep in contact with your non-nested partners while at home with your nested one?”

1. Honor your commitments to spend virtual time with your non-nested partners as you would an in person date. This helps them feel like they matter to you, that time with them is important to you, and that you are a person of your word.

2. Do the best you can to give yourself and your love some privacy.

3. Let your nested partner know of your plan as you would any other date. Don’t ask for permission but just inform them that you have scheduled a call with your love and that you’ll be in whatever space you have designated for yourself.

4. Avoid discussing sensitive or private information about your partner around your nested partner. Get their consent to share info or talk about a topic if your other partner is around.

5. Thank your nested partner for giving you privacy and space to spend time with your other love. Appreciation goes a long way.

6. And this one is going to be controversial BUT: Most people would have an issue with a nested partner that agreed to do the dishes and then spent six hours in the phone with a love and didn’t do them. Like, set yourself up for success. Just some food for thought.

7. If your partner is noticeably acting out about your being on the phone with someone else, do not give in to it. Ask them to stop, tell them you’ll discuss it after you have finished your call, and/or move to another space where you can have more privacy.

8. Make sure you are also taking time to have intentional conversations with your nested partner as well. It can sometimes get lost that since you are in the same house together, you are having quality conversations.

9. Also controversial: If you know you have a nested partner that gets uncomfortable, try not to be overly mushy and gushy on the phone in their presence, if it can be avoided. Do that in private.

“What do you do of you ARE the partner that gets uncomfortable when you’re partner is communicating with their other loves in your space?”

1. Don’t judge yourself for that. It’s normal to feel discomfort and awkwardness around that.

2. Manage your emotions in a healthy way. Create distance from it if you need to. Take a walk, watch something funny, take a bath.

3. Give them privacy. Don’t eavesdrop on the conversation.

4. Respect their time. If you have a relationship with your meta, by all means say hello but don’t spend all their time expecting to be included in their conversation. Let them have their connection time.

5. Don’t “suddenly” discover a “need” in the house that your partner HAS to address RIGHT when they are on the phone with someone else. If it can wait, let it wait.

6. Don’t passive-aggressively make your discomfort known by doing things like stomping through the house or slamming doors while they are talking to their other partners. Don’t be that guy.

7. Have an honest conversation if you’re struggling with it and work with your partner on ways to support you with that that doesn’t greatly impede their ability to connect with their other loves.

8. If you need more intentional conversation from your nested partner, ASK for it.

9. Have compassion for your partner. They are probably really missing their other loves and really scared about when or IF they’ll see them again. Being able to connect with them virtually helps.

Let’s rise to the occasion, folks. Be the partner you want to have.

Ask any group of polyamorous people what the prime benefit of polyamory is and you’ll get a variety of answers. More love, freedom, support, even “nation building” (insert internal eye roll). I am often asked this question and my answer is always the same. The biggest benefit for me is the self discovery, the things I have learned about myself on this journey. I have never had a period of my life that has been as personally revealing as the time I have spent living polyamorously.

Polyamory places me in previously unimagined situations, foreign to even my relatively broad perspective. I am often surprised, intrigued, even embarrassed by what I discover about myself and what I think/feel about the people in my life. The conscious and unconscious ideas I hold about love and relationships, and who I am in the context of how these things present themselves in my life, are fundamentally challenged.

So what have I personally learned about myself? I have learned that my conflict style is to run head first into issues because I feel anxious when things don’t feel resolved. I have learned that the sense of entitlement I feel toward my husband is greatly disproportionate to what I feel for other people I care about and I am not comfortable with that. I learned that my default response to pain is anger which also highlighted a bad temper and an anger problem, so much so that it required enrolling in anger-management group therapy. I have also learned of my capacity for compassion and empathy, my uncanny ability to acutely grasp the perspectives of others, my unyielding determination to love the people in my life as freely as possible. Polyamory has shown me the depths of my power to own my shit, how adroit I am at navigating even the most uncomfortable of emotions, my resilience, and my self-worth.

Polyamory throws out all of the existing relationship patterns and models , completely rewriting the narrative to fit me and my partners; I can tailor my relationships to the exact measurements that suit me. How would I be able to customize my relationships to fit me, however, if I don’t what my “size” is? What do I want from love? What is love to me? Who do I want to be to my partners? Why am I feeling jealous about what my partner is doing? These are all questions I find myself repeatedly asking myself and the answers are very revealing.

People are our greatest mirrors, not just in our romantic relationships but in all human interactions. We see ourselves reflected in them and how they react to us and how we react to them. A favorite quote of mine attributed to Anais Nin goes, “We don’t see things as they are, we see things as WE are.” I have definitely found this to be true for me. In seeing others, I have been faced with really looking at myself.

When I started along this path, I was excited about the prospect of many loves. Multiple people to love me and I love them. Folks to date, and shower with affection, and have great sex with. I didn’t know that that would mostly be a secondary benefit. I got into polyamory to become intimate with more people but the person who I became more intimate with was myself.

I met one of my former partners at a meetup for burners at a local bar. I had been curious about Burning Man for a long time and was trying to connect to the burn community here in San Diego. He was one of two guys there and we spent the entire night talking about everything from our psychedelic experiences to our kids to systemic racism. We “clicked”. When we left the bar, he asked for my number because we both loved to eat and he wanted to grab a bite together some day. First date was to a hip sushi spot that a dj friend of his was playing a set in. He spent the night at my place, did the walk of shame past my kids in the morning, and a love affair was born.

Notice I sad “former partner” because he and I are no longer together. He was in the armed forces and was about to get out and was only here in San Diego for a few more months before we met. I was crushed. We had such a short time together. We were determined to make the most of it, though, and we did. He introduced me to my first motorcycle ride, the surprising joy of vegan food, and how much I enjoyed having a “hippie bae”. I introduced him to The Color Purple (he was white), Noah Purifoy’s Junk Dada exhibit in Joshua Tree, and nights on the dance floor rolling to EDM music. We enjoyed each other.

When he moved back to where his wife and family lived, we tried to maintain the relationship long distance but that didn’t work out. Nothing “happened”, just that the distance and what we each had going on in our individual lives made continuing on in a romantic sense not viable. We parted as friends, still speak on occasion, and my meta (his wife) and I are still wonderful friends, actually closer than he and I are now. To me, this relationship was a “success”.

Monogamy tells us that the most valuable and meaningful metric of relationship success is longevity. Couples are applauded for going the distance. When someone posts a photo of a couple celebrating multiple year anniversaries, you usually see comments like “relationship goals”. Rarely do people say the same thing to the exes, now friends, who weren’t able to stay together romantically but still value the relationship they have with each other and continue to remain lovingly connected.

I want to say that there is NOTHING wrong with longevity being an important or the most important way that you view your relationships as successful. There are many people who feel that way and that is valid. It’s just not the ONLY metric for success and there are people who value other things as indicators of a successful relationship.

Did you learn something from the relationship? Did you part peacefully? Do you still have memories or experiences in your current life that you value from the relationship? Did you recognize personal growth? Did you enrich each other’s lives? Are you grateful that it happened? The answers to these questions can be just as valid of a measurement of the success of a relationship as “Are you still together?”

Part of becoming non-monogamous is redefining what “relationship” mean to us and that includes what it means to us when they end. I think it’s important to take a look at the relationship beliefs we hold and ask ourselves if they still serve the current model we are in. Non-monogamy frees us to figure out for ourselves what a successful relationship means to us and in our individual relationships. No two people would define success the same so I think allowing yourself to trust in your OWN definition of it is best.

My partner and I are in a polyamory dating group on Facebook. One day, someone made a post asking the group members to list which degrees they have. Many people commented and it was actually pretty dope seeing so many black folks with advanced degrees. Many of them had multiple degrees. My partner happens to have a degree but I do not. Truthfully, I’ve never wanted one for myself. I think higher learning is a great accomplishment, truly, I have just never desired it for myself.

Anyhoo, my partner commented on the post and said that seeing all those black women commenting their degrees was sexy to him. I read that comment and fell apart. Cried. Made a huge passive aggressive post about it. Went off on him. I LITERALLY told him “Leave me and go get you a big booty chick with a degree then!” (I also have no ass at all, something I am very insecure about). It was not pretty. This was much earlier in our journey and long before I developed the tools to deal with stuff like this but still. I didn’t realize until that moment that not having a degree, and him finding having a degree appealing about a person, was an insecurity for me.

Now I know all of the “why” behind my reaction but at the time, all I knew was that I was in pain about his action and didn’t know what was causing the pain. I want to be clear that there was nothing wrong with what he did at all. And I DEFINITELY overreacted and behaved poorly. But I was triggered by a new insecurity I hadn’t discovered about myself. The funny thing is, I know I’m intelligent and that he finds my intellect attractive. I’m also usually comfortable with my choice to not get a degree. And yet, I still reacted to him liking something about someone else that I didn’t “have”.

The reality is that I will never “have” EVERYTHING that he or any of my partners desire in a person. It’s just not possible. I can only have enough in me FOR me. My personal work in non-monogamy is to get myself to a place where I am enough for myself. Only from that place can I appreciate what my partners appreciate about me and also be at peace with what they appreciate about others, even if they are things I can not give them or be for them. It is a constant work but a rewarding one.

Discovering New Insecurities: A Personal Polyamory Story was originally published in Our Sensual Selves on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

My entry into non-monogamy was swinging as is common for many couples in the non-monogamous community. The catalyst for our exploration was that I was bisexual and wanted to have experiences with women. On a trip to the iconic sex club, the Red Rooster in Vegas, I met a couple who was there to have some fun that night, same like we were. Like I said, I’m bisexual. I often look for couples to play with. This particular couple had the rare advantage that I found them both attractive.

As we began interacting, the woman of the couple made a big point of touching herself around me and showing her breasts (which were magnificent but anyhoo) and also being very flirty and provocative with me. I was excited. I don’t often get to interact with women and especially back then because I was still new to all of this. I asked her if she was bisexual and she said “No. I just do this because he likes to see it.”

It was like I heard the music from The Price Is Right in my head when contestants lose their prizes. Just straight up disappointment. I wish I could say that this was an isolated incident but it’s not. Get any group together of bisexual women and they can tell you stories of some woman playing bisexual to please a man, whether it’s kissing a girl at a bar to titillate a boyfriend, reluctantly agreeing to a threesome to please a husband, I even know of a woman who agreed to try bisexuality in order to get MARRIED.

Unicorn Hunting and OPP dynamics harm our community. You get straight women pretending or “trying” to be bisexual to please their husbands/men partners because he won’t “allow” her to have other men and won’t respect her sexuality. You get straight women who meet a man they develop feelings for and feel pressured to have a relationship with his wife/woman partner or risk losing him. You get men who don’t respect the heterosexuality of their partners but coerce their partners into situations that hurt them.

I have heard the stories of the heartache. Single bisexual women in a closed triad working hard to make a straight wife love her only to lose both the wife and the husband. Bisexual wives frustrated and hurt because they are in a triad with a single straight woman and she just won’t love her the way she loves her husband. It occurs too many times to ignore it and it hurts bi women and straight women alike.

Performing Bisexuality, A Story was originally published in Our Sensual Selves on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

• One: I don’t judge myself for my jealousy, I acknowledge it. It’s just a feeling same like happiness, anger, sadness. I read a book once that said our feelings are like children. When a child cries it’s not effective to yell at it to stop crying, stuff it in the closet, or run away from it. You pick the child up, soothe it, and then figure out what’s wrong with it. Our feelings are no different. Feelings are signals. They alert you to conscious and unconscious beliefs you hold about yourself and your partners. Jealousy can be a remarkable tool for self discovery if you allow it to speak to you.
• Two: I acknowledge that jealousy is just my response to these things, that it’s a part of my emotional index. I say things like “My partner is on a date and I’m feeling jealous, what’s for dinner?” I try not to treat it like it’s this special circumstance that’s worthy of some dramatic response. I just acknowledge that it’s there. If you give your feelings their air time, they move on faster than if you struggle against them. Sometimes just acknowledging it takes a lot of its power away.
• Three: I don’t run from it, I run towards it. I lean into it. I notice it’s there and I go “Huh, what’s that about? Let me take a look.” Sometimes, I know right away what it’s about. Sometimes, I have to do a little digging. Whatever the case is, I sit with the discomfort and allow it to speak to me. Sometimes, it’s all about me. My insecurities and fears and hang ups. Sometimes, it’s because my partner is doing something that triggers those things (NOT that they’re responsible) and it may mean that I have a need that isn’t being met in my relationship that I need to figure out and address. Sometimes, it’s because I didn’t eat lunch and I’m hangry. It varies. It’s never the same every time. So I find out what it is and I make moves based on that information.
• Four: if I deem it necessary (and often I do not) I talk to my partner about it and this is the key component-I ASK FOR WHAT I NEED. Notice I said “ask” and not demand. Sometimes I just need them to hear me out. Sometimes, I need them to reassure me. Sometimes I need them to do something specific (like take me on a date, make more time for me, etc). I let them know that I’m struggling with this and invite them to help me with it if they can. They may not be able to or they may not want to but I offer them a way to support me. The tricky part in this comes in making sure your request is reasonable.
• Fifth: I remind myself that I’m more than likely doing the same thing with others or will be doing the same thing, that we agreed together to live this way, and that whatever my partner is doing isn’t about me at all. It’s about them seeking to make their lives happy and fulfilling for them.

Now this advice comes with the assumption that you’re in a healthy relationship with someone who genuinely cares about you. This strategy is null and void if you’re dealing with a person who is treating you poorly, not being transparent, or mishandling their relationships. All the jealousy advice in the world won’t help you get through that. This also won’t work if you approach your Polyamory from the vantage point of unwillingness to work through the discomforts or wanting ease. Jealousy is a funky emotion. It takes some fortitude and industriousness to navigate.

That’s really it. There is no magic. No special trick that gives us the cheat code out of dealing with it. Each person is unique and will have to find their OWN ways of dealing with the jealousy in their lives. Many of us are arriving to the feelings of jealousy for the first time. The constructs of monogamy are designed to shield us from experiencing jealousy in our relationships. It’s going to take a while and a number of times dealing with your jealousy before it becomes less acute and you are less affected by it. But that time will come if you put forth the effort to learn how YOU INDIVIDUALLY can effectively manage it for yourself.

Signed, a regular jealous human being who is every bit Polyamorous.”

I also want to add that jealousy doesn’t make you immature, less evolved, “bad” at poly, selfish, or controlling. It just makes you human.

I met a new transgender person today. It wasn’t a “date” but we did meet on OkCupid. We just sat by the marina and smoked and talked in the rain. I ran down a sand bank to scare some seagulls like a little kid. We had dope conversation.

We had this moment where I was telling him about my weight loss. I had gastric bypass surgery in 2016 and lost 150lbs. He said he would have never guessed that I was larger and I replied that if he saw my body beneath my clothes, he could tell. I shared with him that I feel like my body tells a lie about who I am in clothes but tells a different story when I’m naked and he looked at me and was like “Yep. I understand that.”

And immediately, I knew that he did and we shared this moment of my being cisgender and his being transgender being relevant and irrelevant at the same time because even though the understanding of that experience came from different places, the reality is that we’re both just two human beings working ourselves through our human bodies. It was a dope bonding moment.

And I think I liked him.

#TransLivesMatter

“Been having some interesting reflections on my gender identity. Someone recently asked me what my pronouns were and they have been “she/her” for my entire life but I also feel myself loosening my grip on my attachment to “woman” as my gender identity. I also wish to do my part in aiding in moving away from gendered speech and treatment and becoming more comfortable with the use of “they/them” as it pertains to me is part of that.

What I find thought-provoking about this is that it’s making me reflect on whether I still consider myself a woman or whether I am actually non-binary and what that means. Am I trying to distance myself from being cisgender in the same funky ways that white people try to distance themselves from whiteness because of guilt? Am I trying to be “on trend” or is my uncertainty genuine? Do I want to let go of being a “woman”, a part of my identity that I am strongly connected to? Even talking about it like this feels privileged because I CAN ponder these things in this way because it’s not a matter of life or death for me as a person who is and is perceived as cisgender.

I am really glad for the opportunity to ask myself these questions and do this work.”

A cisgender man who’s a Facebook acquaintance of mine sent me a message about this post that truthfully, annoyed me. To paraphrase what I took from what he said, he was perplexed by this line of thought from me because in his mind I embody everything that is a woman to him and when he thinks of me, what he thinks of is a woman. I didn’t respond. I still haven’t responded. I wasn’t sure what to say. My annoyance stemmed from him making my thoughts about my identity about his perception of me. I feel like that’s something that men do often to women and I don’t like that. I pondered on this for a few days and came up with this subsequent post that reflects my deeper feelings on the subject:

“An interesting reaction to my reflections on being non-binary prompted this line of thought:

For most of my adult life, I am often misgendered as a “man”. I’m tall, I have a deep voice, angular facial features, and a commanding presence. I am often asked, even when I am dressed up in very femme presenting clothing and makeup, if I am a man or trans. I think that I am just one of those persons that embody the masculine and the feminine simultaneously.

Because of this, I know gender to be a social construct in my experience. No matter what gender I wish to present to people, they are going to pick up from me what they want. What began to make me start to examine this within myself is because I would have such caustic reactions to being seen as a man or transgender. I wanted to understand WHY I get so triggered by that. There are some cultural implications to being misgendered as a black woman, because black women have historically been seen as “less feminine” and “more manly” than white and non-black women, and that is a definite contributor to why I react so viscerally to being seen as a man. I also realized that I react to being seen as a man because of the trauma of patriarchy. Men are the “bad” sex to me, the oppressive sex. I want to distance myself from masculinity because most of the experience I have had with it has been toxic. The weight of my intersectional identity that I feel most acutely is that of being a woman.

The human experience is a dual one. Most things exist on a spectrum between two polarities. I often say that the human condition is the inability to strike things down the middle. I consider myself a “center path” person. Much of my work within myself is to land in the center of things. Recently, my gender has become a part of that work. When I say that I am loosening my grip on my gender, it’s a personal thing. I am moving toward thinking of myself as just a human being with a vulva and breasts but not wanting that to determine what people perceive me to be. Those facts may say things about me biologically, but they don’t say anything about who I am. I am Evita. I have no gender. I am not a man or a woman. I am me.

The struggle I have with this is that I have such a deep appreciation for womanhood and my identity as a “woman”, especially as a black woman. I was talking to a friend who is a black femme presenting non-binary person and they explained to me that they also struggled with this but read an article that helped them realize that while they have an intimate relationship to black womanhood based on their life experience and being associated with it all of their life, they are not a woman and letting go of that label doesn’t negate their appreciation and love for black womanhood and their association with it. That resonated with me. I will always love womanhood and my connection to it. I just no longer feel the need to assert it as part of my own identity.

If you perceive me as a man, or a woman, or neither, that is about you, not me. That says nothing about how I perceive myself. My identity isn’t about you, it’s about me. In freeing myself from needing a person to perceive me a certain way in regards to my gender, I go deeper in my personal work to be less tied to my ego. I gain more personal power because I let go of the need for another human being to affirm my definitions of myself. I know who I am. I understand that a person’s perceptions of me are their shit and not mine. And since I believe I embody all things, all things are true and accurate. As I get older, I no longer seek to wrestle with people’s perceptions of me. I just wish to accept them as that person’s truth about me while knowing that it doesn’t have to be MY truth about me.

Becoming non-binary is a personal work inside me. It has nothing to do with anyone else but me.”

Another friend read this and suggested I post this here. Don’t really know how to end this but individual personal reflections on the construct of gender and how it affects us are important, especially for black people. My story is important. Yours is, too.