Sometimes I feel as if I am the Non-Binary Carrie Bradshaw. It sounds ridiculous, I'm aware.
Growing up watching that show I learned a lot about human relationships. Probably a complete coincidence that I ended up doing fashion, but it was really the writing and the context behind the series that made it informative.
Patrick in interviews discussed how the show was really grounded on the relationships between the characters and how the city of New York was within itself a character. Being a millennial, of course the show offered an unrealistic fantasy into a glamorous life one could live owning all those shoes, parties, dining out, etc.
The idealization of glamour.
Chinese people wouldn't see themselves as Marilyn Monroe glamour. Building a business from the ground up or comfortably living as a Chinese Canadian Physician making more than $350,000 a year. 3 cars. Private schools for their children. You get a private school! You get a private school! You get a privilege school! They see it as setting a standard. I mean it's 2016 but Mao coming in and putting everyone into "communes". Cough cough. Communism. Cough cough. Wasn't that long ago. My parents were people fleeing communism. Being raised in Canada and achieving anything other than what they had to go through is...glamour. More like survival.
I can understand from my parents perspective now, they wouldn't define or recognize their own privilege. Can you blame them, I'm sure that's stressful growing up and fleeing a dictatorship. I just started laughing to myself. I mean can you imagine Carrie reading the Art of War over cocktails, with a shaved head? The horse jokes are bad enough.
Forget about feeling glamourous, what about just feeling normal?
Last night I went on my first human courtship ritual being in a new body, in a new mind. It was surreal to say to the least. I think it was because I was experiencing something familiar but at the same time I was in...uncharted territory.
Arriving, it was pouring but it resembled a hot summer day. Thinking in my head those first minutes before their arrival it was nothing but doubt. Another person who wants just wants to have sex with me, a business meeting with cocktails..as Carrie would put it. Before meeting I made it very clear; these are my pronouns, atheism, nihilism, asexual, this is my career, this is my financial situation, I'm here because I've been craving intimacy. You have a flat stomach and so do I. Lets meet. As the night before I silently decided in the shower I was going to go on a social app and put myself out there. App at 6pm - a text at 9pm -and by midnight we were meeting at the corner of Tim Hortons. Toronto. Bing bang boom. Post-Human Dating 101.
[Let's be real for a second. Humans would call this is a date. I call it beings engaging in brief association meetings with interests of better understanding another individual in addition to intimacy or sexual indulgences of the body]
Immediately at first glace it was so casual. Walking. Pouring. Walking. We were soaked 5 minutes in...shall we go to the nearest bar? Dressed in a baggy top and pants all in black, 6'1, with a fisherman's hat, I was drawn to the minimalism. Queen street hipster or not, masculine was the word. I almost wanted to write them off 12 minutes in as Tranny Chaser looking for a quicky behind the parking lot. Me? Shaved everything. Black 6 inch heels and socks. Black short shorts. White cropped t-shirt. Black mesh hat. Apple Watch and brown swede bag. Gossip Girl CIRCA 2050 meets Ex-Machina with a dash of Kylie Jenner. 15 minutes in we passed the small talk and suddenly there was a casual comment about their ignorance with Non-Binary Education. I thought it was honest. I mean at least they weren't pretending.
20 minutes in we reached our destination and conversation went from casual to an objective conversation about the state of our economy. Maybe it was because we both came from privileged backgrounds. I suddenly saw this person as...a person. Just a person. A person similar to myself just with hair. Figuring out their existence just like any other person.
Before I met them I had asked a question.."Are you just another cis-monkey all about self indulgence?" and they brought it up. It was nice. Nice because they remembered. They didn't know what cis meant. But that's okay.
It abruptly hit me.
Maybe there is a function to being not queer, not identifying as queer...maybe there is value in not identifying as anything.
The interaction had very little discussion about what we identified as so we were able to move past that and discuss the kind of society we want to live in. There was a moment where I looked away and they asked "What are you looking at?" I said..."Oh nothing, maybe I'm just a little nervous". We looked at each other for a moment, eye to eye.
Little did they know, I had a moment of...feeling normal.
The difference between now and before...none of this felt amazing. I wasn't getting this high like before. Things just felt constant. It just felt like life was happening. Regardless, it felt good.
Walking back, we started talking french. More like just them. My attempt at being worldly. Luckily it stopped raining. I needed it to stop being like The Notebook. I mean David and I joke about how the fatal flaw with that movie is that you never really know WHY Allie and Noah love each other. It paints a picture that love is fate, love is passionate sex, and that's it.
Love is a choice.
It's a choice you silently makes in the shower that you're going to put yourself out there and allow someone to co-exist in your life. Allowing someone to understand you.
I've said this before, I rather feel understood than feel loved.
Understanding requires questions. #divedeeper as our community we created for fleecer.ca would say. (A little server on discord was created for those that follow the @wumingbong Youtube channel)
An hour in we walked back and they asked "What is the thing you are most proud of with the work you've done?" Such a good question. Brownie points. Orgasm in my pre-frontal cortex. I answered; the work I do with Transgender/Gender Non-Conforming (S.O.Y. Supporting Our Youth) in Toronto.
They walked me to my car and suddenly I thought...this isn't happening is it. Thanks for a great night. Maybe you'll call me sometime. What's your schedule like? They said. I looked down and said I'd like that. Before I could look again eye-eye; even process a second thought I looked up and they kissed me.
It's happening.
A second kiss. Happening. A third kiss happened. Okay we are making out now on the street. A year of work rationalizing the unnecessary concept of human interaction down the drain. In the middle I spoke in their mouth...is this okay? Another kiss more...yes? Another kiss. Another kiss. Do you live alone they asked? Another kiss. Yes. I said. Another kiss. I'm sure you'll find out eventually. I said. Another kiss.
Things...more than happened.
As I drove away, I noticed they looked back. As the many times I've looked back to someone I found...intriguing. Immediately going on Discord to speak to someone about the nights events.
If nothing happens after this, I'm okay with that. I just needed to know that it was possible to feel normal again, (post non-binary transition) to be in romance with someone else. To be in connection with someone else. Everyone has their own idea of normal.
We have such pressure for things needing to feel different with the next person to the next but isn't that a given? It's always going to be different with getting to know someone new.
Realizing now, even when you strive to remove culture from ones life or your gender/sex or the concepts of what we consider human from yourself. There really is no escaping the act of craving connection. Being connected.
Realizing this is probably my normal. Connection.
