27 December 2009

Holiday Spirit is Dead

I remember liking Christmas. As a child of course, because I received all sorts of fabulous things. I would call my best friend after lunch and we’d compare loot. I always got clothes and generally loved them. I got books regularly and toys when I was young enough for them.

After a time I began to like it less. The excitement was gone. My mother was moody on holidays, and dampened the festive spirits. The clothing wasn’t my style anymore. I asked my mom to stop getting me clothes. Mostly because I didn’t like her choices, but I told her I wanted to simplify.

I began to like it less as I became more aware of the stupidity and cost. People rushing to purchase obligatory gifts for loved ones they don’t really know. Gifts often returned the next day. People spending exorbitant amounts for frivolity. More excuses to be drunk and make poor choices.

Last Christmas was the first spent without my family. My roommates were away with their families, and I worked and spent some time with a few friends. I bought a computer after mine died a horrible death. It arrived on Christmas Eve, a great self-gift.

I was not with my family again this Christmas.

This Christmas I gave myself a broken heart.

Perhaps next year I can share Christmas with someone and really appreciate it. I don’t have to be lonely in a room of happy people and my own sundered heart.

18 December 2009


I didn’t want this to be necessarily a journal/diary blog. I wanted it to be a space where I could share some of my thoughts on events and issues and generally show some critical thinking and thoughtful writing.

Well, in the absence of any critical thinking, I shall revert to a more-or-less personal journal of sorts.

Here’s what I’ve been up to lately:

Figuring out and verbalizing my gender identity. This has been a long process. And certainly no small task. It began in my head my senior year of university and has progressed quite far. Of course, the actual beginning was in the beginning. When I was young etc.

I’ve never been the typical girl, I was always a tomboy. I never had Barbies, only GI Joes. All of my favorite stuffed animals were male. All of my imaginative alter egos were male. When I was very young, four perhaps, I was Fluffy-baby-boy-lion. And I would tell everyone that, the whole phrase, as I crawled around on the carpet and roared. When I was in first grade (perhaps younger) I was John. My friend and I would play for hours that we were a couple of lost boys roughing it in the woods. It was amazing. She grew out of it. I never did. When I began writing, all of my protagonists were male. Usually around my age. Usually journeying to far away lands (but that a different story). I always chose a male avatar when playing video games. As I said, I never really grew out of it, yet I did scale back. I tried to introduce female characters into my stories (failing usually).

I never really let any of these things truly enter into my conscious thought. I was a good Christian girl. I kept telling myself I was happy being strange. Being single. Being me. I wore what I wanted (generally guy’s clothes). I cut my hair how I wanted it (generally short). Very few people questioned me. But I do recall finding it terribly amusing and even a bit exciting when people would mistake me for a guy.

I made it almost all the way through university before making a very important realization about myself. I am not straight. It was a very rough time. I didn’t know how to rectify all of what I’d been taught throughout the years to what I was learning about myself. I joined an online queer community and basically educated myself on all things LGBTQ. This is where I learned the term ‘genderqueer.’ It was almost a year after my initial queer self-realization that I began to identify as genderqeer. I realized that it really fit my situation. I wasn’t particularly unhappy with my body (most of the time), but I knew that I did not fit the typical female model. With this new label I also began to bind my chest. This made me feel much more masculine and somehow right. I began to pass as male quite often in public. In the year since then, I’ve embraced my gender and sexual identities. I have even progressed slightly more toward transgender. I have recently asked friends and coworkers to refer to me with male pronouns. So far it has been very invigorating. It makes me smile to hear myself referred to as ‘he’. The feeling is unexplainable.

There was also the nickname I ended up with. In truth, my dad was the first to really call me Larz, but in high school several of my friends used it and when I went to university, I introduced myself to everyone as Larz. At this time, only my mom still uses my given name. I am considering legally changing my name to Larz.

Besides the random gender issues, I’ve been working full time at an animal shelter. Not exactly what I want to be doing with my life, but it’s good money and not terribly difficult work. It’s also a perfect place to transition.

I’m working on moving, and quite excited about that. I’ve got a lovely bunch of friends here in Denver. I really don’t know where I’d be without them. Actually, without the affirmation I’ve been getting, I don’t know that I’d ever have been able to make some of the huge decisions I’ve made lately. Namely switching pronouns and coming out to my parents.

So that’s me. 2009 out.

12 November 2009

On happiness as it relates to me

What does it really mean to be happy?

I’m happy. Giddy even. Euphoric nearly. And it’s because I’m slowly being able to be myself. I’ve always been me. And I’ve always been a mostly optimistic sort of person. But recently, I’ve been exploring the furthest reaches of myself. Making what I deem to be necessary changes.

I’ve had help. I would never have come this far without the constant affirmation of my friends. Knowing that I have people to stand behind me, beside me even, makes me bold.

So I’ve been honest with myself and I’m working on being honest with those around me. My parents are the final frontier, so to speak. I won’t hesitate to admit that I am terrified. It will not be easy at all. Telling them, not that I don’t want to be their daughter, but in fact, I’ve never been. Yet, I can never really be their son either. I’d rather dabble in the middle. They need to know that I prefer it this way, that this is how it has always been and where I am comfortable. They will also need to know that in general, I prefer a masculine default. Which is a change. It is scary and difficult even for me.

But even the apprehension of speaking to my parents face-to-face does not dampen my happiness. I only hope it lasts for a good long time.

23 August 2009

I sent that package...

I yearn for change.


I don’t know how to change myself. The main reason I cannot seem to figure this out is because I don’t know what I want to change into. I have absolutely no plans for my life. Nothing definitive anyway. I say I’m looking for a better job, but the truth is that I’m not looking, because I don’t know what sort of job is better. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know where I fit.

I really don’t know who I am in any realm. I don’t know where I stand with Christianity. I don’t know where I fall on the sexuality scale, mostly because I don’t know where I fall on the gender scale. I’ve been looking into all of these things recently, and I’ve come up with imprecise labels and trite expressions.

There are some things I know, of course. I know I want to become fitter. I want to be healthy. I want my body to look how I envision it in my mind: androgynous (emphasis on the ‘andro’). I want to rid myself of excess and build muscle. But I lack the self-control to eat healthier and exercise regularly.

I know I want to travel. I just don’t know exactly how. Obviously travel requires money, but I rather dislike working more than I need. I don’t quite know how to save. Of course my frequent, frivolous internet purchases don’t help much.

I want to learn to be content. I’ve realized that I simply get bored with things far too quickly. I’ve been at my job for two months and already it is mundane. Routine. Boring. It’s not that the work itself is boring, I’m just bored. I surmise my attention span has atrophied due to my excess of time spent on the internet.

I want to have personal connections. This is something that’s terribly hard for me to initiate. I’ve recently realized it is a real problem, and I’ve gone so far as to read books on how better to make friends. And in some ways it helps. I think of certain things in social situations. I try to initiate contact and be interested rather than follow my nature and stand in a corner to observe.

I suppose the simple fact that I want to change means I have some hope left. I’m not entirely complacent.

01 August 2009

Who Is Larz?

So I feel the need to talk a bit about me. My identity. Who this person called Larz really is.

It’s been somewhat of a struggle for me to solidify things. And by somewhat I mean that it has been the hardest segment of my life thus far. Because things simply won’t solidify. I keep discovering things about myself that radically change my ideas about everything. My head has been at constant war with my heart for around two years. They’re finally just making peace now.

So this whole identity thing: I hate labels, they just make it harder to solidify, harder to explain, harder to think about really. I want to just be me. But I’ve had to rationalize many things. Though now, I’m very comfortable just being me. However, I know many people don’t understand me, so I’ve found a couple words to describe my identity.


Whoa. What? This just means that I don’t feel I fit into my biological gender or gender role. However, it does not mean that I desire to fully fit into the opposing gender or gender role either. I simply do not feel that gender is binary. I prefer to fit somewhere in the middle. My biology remains the same, but my appearance doesn’t mirror it. I don’t desire to resurrect my given name. It somewhat irks me to see it on my license and debit card. I prefer the much more androgynous “Larz”, though I’m not sure I’ll ever legally change it. Pronouns are tricky. Ideally, I’d rather have neither, but that’s not much of an option really, and since English contains no singular gender neutral pronouns, I then prefer both. Yes, both. Figure it out.

Here comes another odd word:


This means that like my own gender, I don’t reckon gender into my attraction or relationships. I am certainly attracted to appearances (the more androgynous, the better), but it’s essentially about a person. I was taught at school and by my parents to love people for who they really are and not to judge them on things they cannot change. To me gender falls into this category. I don’t think love should be limited by biology anymore than by skin tone or bank account.

These two odd words are really only part of my identity. Perhaps a big part, and even a scary part, but I’m so much more really.

I’m still Larz.

I still like Firefly and Lord of the Rings. I still play Spiro the Dragon on psx. I like to take photos and write science fiction stories. I’ve developed a taste for sushi that my income cannot support. I love to travel and observe people. I’ve a heart for those that are less fortunate than I. I desire (like everyone) to be a part of something special. To help, to succeed, to love, to live, to be happy.

I realize that this may spark some comment and queries. I welcome them whole-heartedly. I know that it’s not easy to understand, and it helps me to understand more when I’m able to discuss it.

27 July 2009

Useless Adages

They say that time heals all wounds and that distance make the heart grow fonder yet out of sight is out of mind. That familiarity breeds contempt and that it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Some of these things I've found to be true and some not so much. But I've learned a bit about each.

I'm not so sure about the time thing, though I'm sure there's truth in it. I'm not sure it's a complete healing. It's just stemming the blood flow, a scabbing over. I think that a large scar will often be left if it's a real wound. I think that I will be adding, and have been adding more and more scars to my collection.

Distance I think will be very good. Hard for sure, but distance is needed. Not the extent of out of sight out of mind, but I certainly tend to focus most on the immediate. I'm not one to miss people terribly, not one for weepy nostalgia. But I do still feel connections to the past, ties to people and places far from me.

In some ways familiarity does breed contempt. I get along with people really well, but that doesn't mean that I'm immune to this. Sometimes just because I know a person so well, I can be easily irritated by that person. Sometime because I know the person, I can easily be an irritant. In this way, unfortunately, change is good. Distance, time.

As for the last phrase, I think it's bullshit. Yet I wouldn't change it for the world.

Of course this expostulation means very little in the scheme of things, but these phrases have been running in my mind of late and I wished to shove them to my needs. Or something like that.