Not the destination that matters.

In all this kerfuffling about my gender identity, I've come to realize one thing for certain. And it's not what gender I am.

It's that I am fucking lucky, goddamn privileged, to be surrounded by people who are comfortable with my uncertainty and willing to accept whatever decision I do make. I don't have a boss telling me "the dress code specifies females must wear makeup." I don't live with anyone who will kick me out if I start dressing or acting funny. I don't live in a country where my gender expression is regulated by law.

Whether I'm butch, transmasculine, genderqueer, genderfluid, tomboy, boi, androgynous, genderless, or just a different sort of cis woman--I'm glad to have found a subculture and a group of friends where these are all recognized identities. I'm glad that I can tell my boyfriend "I don't feel like I'm really a woman" and he can answer with "hm, I know what you mean, gender's a funny thing" and not "of course you are" or "then get out." I'm glad I can post about this on my blog and get a wide variety of thoughtful responses and not a "lol wat, ur gay."

Having the freedom to question and change my role in sex and society, and to do that in an atmosphere without one right answer (or even two), is one of the biggest and best freedoms I know. I just wish more people had it.

What I really want to say to the public, to the blogosphere, to whoever reads this, with all my hemming and hawing about my gender is not what gender I am. What I really want to say is that it's okay to hem and haw about your gender, or about the way you express that gender. There's a lot of possibilities--including never knowing for sure--and not one of them makes you less of a person.