Good God, a True Confessions thread...
[where do I begin?]
I'm afraid I'll never figure out "what I am" (I mean, if I haven't after 44 years, it doesn't look like it's going to happen?). It's easy enough to say what I'm
not: I'm not a gender-normal, heterosexual woman. But beyond that? (That's why I so love the word "Queer": it covers . . . all of my polymorphous weirdness!)
Let's review:
To age 5: I knew I was different, "wanted to be a boy"
Age 5-24: put on a good show of being a heterosexual girl -> woman
Age 24-35: Hey, I like grrls too! Ergo, I must be a "bisexual woman" (from age 32 on, married to a guy)
Age 35-39: CRISIS! All the pre-Age 5 stuff comes roaring back. I am
not a woman. Am I a man? Transguy? Am I something else entirely? (Husband walks out on this---probably most of the world would seem him as justified...
)
Age 39-present: no, I am not a guy . . . exactly (though in terms of my basic
sexual inclinations, there are some strong similarities---to a het guy, I mean. {TMI Alert!
} I'm definately not into guys anymore, really at all). Am I a dyke? Transbutch? Am I something else entirely?
GG
...but most of all, I worry that my perpetual-state-of-confusion will prevent me from EVER relating properly to the Ms. Right I still desperately hope will come along (if she hasn't already 
) Out
Not incidentally, I also worry that my perpetual confusion keeps me a state of
perpetual immaturity, as well. Like, maybe I keep getting turned down for jobs I apply for [God, here's another confession: I haven't had a
regular paying job since 1994. From 1994-2001, I depended on my husband; 2001-2002 I exhausted my savings, 2003-present, I've been financially dependent on my parents
], because somehow I subconsciously
signal my confusion/immaturity. Like, I
say "Hire me! Hire me! Hire me!", but employers are reading between the lines, thinking "He/She/It doesn't even know what he/she/it IS. Why the heck should we hire this . . . person?"
[I think that's enough confessing for one post. There, now don't the rest of y'all feel
less pathetic?
]
Oh, one last thing: I'm
supposed to be a Christian. "God loves me" and all that good sh*t. But the Truth of the matter remains, I feel awfully alone---awfully . . .
forsaken, by any Benevolent Higher Power (that I
say I believe in
)
Oh, and I'm sure you look wicked hot in your glasses. 
