Before I post too many more things, I would like to make a few points about transgenderism in SL and about myself.
There are three types of people who "pretend" to a gender in Second Life that is different than the one they were physically born with:
1) People who want a opposite-gender avatar for role-playing purposes (non-sexual)
2) People who want a opposite-gender avatar for sexual purposes (this probably accounts for half of SL's so-called "lesbians." Not knocking my true sisters, just the straight dudes who use their avi for virtual "girl on girl" action.)
and . . . (drum roll)
3) People who are using an opposite gender avatar to explore their own RL gender identity.
For those who may be confused about me, I am #3. I became a "female" upon joining SL initially because I didn't want the hassle I experience in every day life. Within days, I realized something quite different as the behaviors I had always repressed were suddenly unleashed -- that I had discovered something truly wonderful about myself: that I am a woman who just happens to inhabit a male physical body.
I do not "pretend" or "role-play" or try to make other's lives more difficult. I am trying to live a life in this metaverse that I may never get to enjoy in the real.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Me, Myself, & I
My name. I sign it everywhere -- my job, credit card receipts, deliveries to home and work. It's this thing that I own but am not completely attached to.
It doesn't look like me, it doesn't sound like me -- it's actually quite weird. I'm named after my father, and the name itself is a bit old, a bit long, and it doesn't flow off the tongue very easily. I was embarrassed of it as a child, and would spit it out quickly in hopes that the name-asker would skip over me quickly.
They never did. They would repeat it, looking at it oddly before scanning the room to see what unfortunate bastard answered to it.
But, even more than that, it has always seemed uncomfortable. It is a man's name, and I've never known exactly who that man was. When it slides out of my mouth now, my mind tries to form an image of the man such a name might represent -- and it invariably has never represented me.
Since birth, though, I have been blessed with a very short nickname (my first and last being quite long). It's what I've always answered to as long as I can remember, plus it's much cooler sounding than what's on my birth certificate. But still, when someone says the name, my mind paints an image of a cool, suave (maybe sexy) guy with a tailored shirt, a colorful tie, and a nice head of hair that can combed up into a faux-hawk.
Again, not me.
And, I'm not the only one that thinks this -- when someone new sees me, and my reputation has preceded me; they stand,shake my hand and always seem to say, "Oh, you're (my name)!" as if they were expecting someone else.
But, I don't mention this because I hate myself, or the expanding body that's beginning to spiral out of health -- but just to say the name has not only never fit, it never could.
It's a man's name . . . and I have never been a man.
It doesn't look like me, it doesn't sound like me -- it's actually quite weird. I'm named after my father, and the name itself is a bit old, a bit long, and it doesn't flow off the tongue very easily. I was embarrassed of it as a child, and would spit it out quickly in hopes that the name-asker would skip over me quickly.
They never did. They would repeat it, looking at it oddly before scanning the room to see what unfortunate bastard answered to it.
But, even more than that, it has always seemed uncomfortable. It is a man's name, and I've never known exactly who that man was. When it slides out of my mouth now, my mind tries to form an image of the man such a name might represent -- and it invariably has never represented me.
Since birth, though, I have been blessed with a very short nickname (my first and last being quite long). It's what I've always answered to as long as I can remember, plus it's much cooler sounding than what's on my birth certificate. But still, when someone says the name, my mind paints an image of a cool, suave (maybe sexy) guy with a tailored shirt, a colorful tie, and a nice head of hair that can combed up into a faux-hawk.
Again, not me.
And, I'm not the only one that thinks this -- when someone new sees me, and my reputation has preceded me; they stand,shake my hand and always seem to say, "Oh, you're (my name)!" as if they were expecting someone else.
But, I don't mention this because I hate myself, or the expanding body that's beginning to spiral out of health -- but just to say the name has not only never fit, it never could.
It's a man's name . . . and I have never been a man.
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