Nights, now I’ve been trying to write and days later here I am, still at it. There is something moving in the darkness within me and do not know what it is or why it is or how it will manifest if it does at all. It is difficult to speak of and when I attempt to do so my mind struggles to find a word that names this unknown moving within me. “It,” if it is an “it” or perhaps I should call this movement a them or even a they? They seem to elicit feminine metaphors.
“Gestation” was the first word to arrive. The definition is: “the development of something over a period of time.”various ideas are in the process of gestation”
|synonyms:||development, evolution, formation, emergence, origination|
Pretty cool! Not feminine dark and feminine mushy so much after all. And just like that self judgment arises.
I admit that there has been some kind of tension between those that are characteristic of the feminine and they that are likewise for the masculine as they dwell within me. I have acted out this division in my soul and doing so has caused much shame and suffering. I have, it currently appears in my mind, always subject to change, mostly felt uncomfortable with the soft and tender and gentle and nourishing parts of our soul. I have tried to suppress it’s expression and thwart its legitimacy as part of my rare genetic composition.
As an intersex being it’s not so simple to say something like I am 2/3 female and 1/3 male. Chromosomally speaking that characterisation might be accurate. But it still miss the reality of what being neither male or female in a society that only recognizes M or F is like. The english language appears to have no words to describe the experience of being not quite female not quite male.
I struggle with finding ways and means of putting my experience as a not girl not boy into a form that can communicate with others – others who are not male not female as we are, and others who want to understand, want to glimpse what the world can be like when we exist within the gap. When our existence challenges both M and F and all our accustomed too attendant stereotypes. And now when nothing in my previous life as a cisgender male is able to go into dark and unknown waters; the mystery of the moon and the tides, of the blood and of the knife, of birth and of death, of that which hold us all in loving kindness?
When I am still and when I listen I receive the sense that for this next phase of my life’s adventure, over these last few miles of my pilgrims journey that it is the feminine i need to trust, the feminine I am to open up too and that Birthing is sacred work.
Today, the thought of being pregnant arose in my mind. I noted this because as with gestation, pregnancy is not a word normally found in my top shelf vocabulary and truth be told aside from the old ways of using normal biological functions to stand in for the fullness of a woman, I did not know that “pregnancy” also means: “About to produce or come forth with something, such as an idea or a discovery.”
I wonder, if I start taking T again, will that be tantamount to aborting the baby or suffocating the idea or thwarting the discovery before the journey can take off?
I wonder if this is all fear speaking as the day of starting T draws near? I wonder if flowers will bloom in the garden?