GENDER: The Isolated Non-Game Player

Honestly, when the shoe does not fit, do not wear it. From the time I was aware I was a person, a person with ideas, dreams and aspirations, not quite three years of age, I knew I did not fit in to the roles into which parents and society were trying to force me. I was born into fairly good circumstances, despite a lifelong growing dislike my father had for me since I was two.

Most of my early friends were girls. I really did not know there was a difference until I was in preschool. Where I lived nearly every child wore overalls in the winter and swim shorts in the summer except on Sunday. My first haircut was really traumatic. I learned quickly that I did not like anything about my male associates that smacked of the testosterone behavior they were learning for their dads. My own father was very intense in the few times we had together and I do not think he ever really bonded to me nor I to him.

I was about nine when I began cross-dressing, subsequent to my mother's attempted suicide . My mom and I were the same size. With Dad working and Mom in treatment, I had a lot of time alone with her wardrobe. By age 12, I resembled a youngish John Carridine, though in my heart I felt like the Bobsey Twins. I was seventy two inches tall and was shy of 200 pounds. I was still harboring anger toward schoolmates who preyed on my good nature as if it was some sort of weakness to be exploited by the strong. This while attending parochial school and being told to stand in defense of the weak and less fortunate. The odd thing was that I was bigger than nearly everyone else, including teachers, and still, as Chief Bromden said in Dale Wasserman's play, One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, I was little inside.

In self defense, I became a loner, and until I began acting on stage at age 15, I had no close friends. I had an undiagnosed learning disability that kept me from ever getting the whole picture during a lecture unless I wrote down every word and re-read it later. I was always trying to gain approval by playing football, working on the school newspaper and yearbook, but acting finally kicked in a sense of self-esteem heretofore lacking except in the presence of my maternal grandparents.

Girls seemed to take interest in me in my Senior year, but my interest was beyond the sexual attraction. Often rebuffed for being too intense or too philosophically intimate, I made a lot of bad decisions looking for Ms. Right. For a long time, between my second and third marriage, I would take every opportunity to socialize enfemme publicly, in addition to doing an occasional female impersonation on stage. Though outed at work as a transvestite, I just took it and kept my mouth shut. I also met a few others like me though less mature in their relationship building.

During this time I became a Quaker, kicking my position in the Army Reserve, where I was respected and sought after for my abilities training soldiers and drill instructors. I never shared my vulnerability with Uncle Sam because I did not like men for the most part. I was a refuge resource for several lesbians who read me like a book and were quite decent toward me. I could not embrace a spirituality that excluded caring seekers of God. God loves us regardless of race, color , creed, national origin, gender, gender identity, sexual preference, or economic circumstance, how could I do any less?

All of this came together in Seminary at age 53. I took on an interim pastoral assignment at a church that had room solely for "regular folks." There were two adult children in this family church that were deeply closeted. Though I preached the Gospel, I would back pedal on issues of spiritual justice that I felt strongly about supporting. I was becoming hypocritical in my own mind. My next position was a field assignment as an associate pastor who often shared some of the same thoughts I subscribed to, and that went well. I was barely into my first full time position as a pastor, when disability struck and I was led to quit.

The one thing I have noticed having male and female friends that vacillate between gender identities almost like someone with a multiple personality disorder, is that they are limited in their development of relationships where they are truly appreciated. It is hard to commit to a relationship where there are few signs of honesty and demonstrated trust. I have read many stories of transexuals who have identified themselves as lesbian because, like me, they do not feel men can have deep meaningful relationships, full of affection and affirmation, particularly where birth gender is different from the gender presentation. Judging from the divorce rate among American Christians and hate crimes against gender deviates, perhaps they are right.

I have had several agender advocates as friends and associates, and they, too, are isolated and lonely. I have come finally, after three score years, to a gender identity as a blended person. My friends are comfortable with this idea, my spiritual guides are comfortable, my spouse is comfortable and this is good.

In the future, I want to share further some of my studies on the subject of Gender Identity.

If you want to know more about this subject try reading Virginia Mollenkott's Omnigender, by Pilgrim Press.