Good morning! Goodness, it is finally Friday! This week seemed to drag on and on. But now, BAM! we’re done. Whew!
It has taken me years to be able to come out and say these next things publicly and without hesitation, all because it was something that contributed to my depression. All in all, talking about my gender and sexuality made me extremely upset. I am a gender-fluid pansexual. I know, I know. These terms can hit you like a lead weight. Gender-fluid (my gender, not sex) means I fluctuate between feeling, and presenting myself, as masculine and feminine. Pansexual (my sexuality) means, in simplest terms possible, I don’t care what is in the pants, I just care about the person that puts the pants on.
For the longest time I didn’t think any of this made any sense. It was hard to describe how I felt, because I didn’t think there was any middle ground. That I was either transgender, or not. Or I was gay/lesbian, or not. I was really depressed for the longest time because I didn’t know what any of it meant, or how to go about talking about it.
Soon as I got more involved within the LGBTQ+ community, I was able to pinpoint more of my feelings to labels that made me feel comfortable knowing my feelings had a name. I was able to meet people that felt the way I did, and helped me understand that I was not alone with my feelings.
My depression journey and my gender and sexuality journey are a lot alike. I was stuck in this mental Hell of not knowing who I was, what I wanted; just this disgusting pit of not knowing anything. Eventually I found the light, so to say. Finding help and finding people that were like me and knew how to help me find answers for myself. I am still learning every single day, still trying to find more answers. But this adventure is one I wouldn’t give up for anything.