Contrasting Lexicons

I've lost track of how many times I've stated that words have power. The way they are used, which words are incorporated, everything. And yet they are only a small component of the way we communicate in real life. Our expressions, inflections, implications and inference have a seemingly greater power to influence the tone of a conversation than that of the actual words said. If a conversation were a musical chord, the exact wording would be represented by the harmonic overtone, not an actual note in the chord. But the amorphous internet has changed all sorts of dependence on the word and the ways in which we relate to them.

If every word were a label, then it would make sense that we form inferences seemingly from nowhere. It's like an association game of attempting to get a message across to someone who is barely listening to the content of your statements. This translation is what it feels like to talk to cisgender people when explaining trans-issues. To talk to anyone who has a dissimilar lexicon and worldview. Finding commonality where there is little, is the marketing trick of the century, and yet it is a task I'm faced with constantly whenever I want to be understood by someone who isn't trans, and sometimes even to transfolk.

It'd be easier if I could just say, "It's complicated." Or "It's more complicated than that." Whenever someone makes assumptions, or draws conclusions that don't match my intent, I'm faced with a choice. Do I allow them to misinterpret me and possibly misrepresent me down the line? Or do I attempt to clarify over and over until I'm sure I've been understood? Does it really matter?

That I care so much, seems to force me into a Sisyphean task. I get to thinking that maybe I'm going about it the wrong way. Maybe there's some logistical verbal acrobatics that I can weave into the perfect persuasive argument case by case by case ad nauseum? Or maybe the fact I feel defensive is indicative of yet another example of my setting myself up for failure? I've long ago learned that no one wins an argument. There's no prize or trophy.

Even with an altruistic motive, feeling like I have to explain myself leads me down a destructive and reductive rabbit hole where I will never find satisfaction. Yes I want to find acceptance. Yes I wish people understood how I think and feel. But I have to accept that no matter what, I'm going to have to resort to using other people's words to express myself. I have to relate to them if I want them to relate to me.

No matter what community I converse with, their Lexicon will determine how I'm perceived. Otherwise it's an uphill battle with a boulder defining and redefining terms. Analogy, metaphor and simile can aid me when words fail to contain the power behind them to convey what I need. Although it can be tempting to create another false binary of us vs. them, me vs. the world, this type of thinking leads to the combative nature I've been referring to. I'd rather work to find ways I identify with others than disseminate why I'm different. I'd just be doing the work of othering myself for them, if I put stock in the us vs. them paradigm.

Here's more on a similar vein of thought.

Labels >=(

I am endlessly frustrated with the feeling that people make bad assumptions about me or other people because of the labels we casually assign each other. I could easily go on a rant about othering people, but shouting into nothingness is equally frustrating. As a kid, I was very preoccupied with freedom because I felt so constrained within a body that prevented me from expressing myself how I desired, and obsessed with fairness. So I would love to be an iconoclast, and eccentrically defy norms without any fear of reprisal, but alas I'm not quite perfect. As I can't be free from the roles and expectations I'm assigned, at least I can make sure it's fair.

I don't even want to add labels to this post, but I will, otherwise my blog would be unnavigable, this is one of many examples of how I have to adapt if I want to exist socially. I've lived nearly my entire life trying desperately to fit in as a boy then young man, while I've always had difficulty expressing masculinity let alone understanding it. This is because I was stamped with a label at birth that prevented me for being allowed to be a girl, at least until I learned about a new, albeit less accepted label of transgender.

And yet the word, transsexual, doesn't make sense to me. By it's counterparts, heterosexual, homosexual and bisexual, it would make sense for a transsexual person to be sexually attracted to transgender people. This is one of many reasons why heterosexual cisgender people shouldn't be making up the words, lumping LGBT together is naive. But I like that I'm part of a larger group as a trans person, even if gay people can be just as transphobic as society at large. People are people, if I can't accept others then how can I expect acceptance in return.

Here's where I would normally make a pithy comment implying hypocrisy, but meh. There is power in the way you describe yourself. It shapes how you feel and who you are as a person. I used to often say "I'm awesome!" Without sarcasm, even if I didn't always believe or feel it. Just saying it and hearing it said is enough to alter your mood and perceptions of self. The freedom to express yourself and find yourself can easily be hampered by allowing labels to segregate ourselves. But segregation based on race, religion, sex, gender, wealth, etc. is regressive, we can and should aspire to be better than our forebears.

I'll only allow labels to describe me, not define me.

Finding Purpose

As a person who enjoys passing privilege, this blog is a preventative measure of letting myself become closeted again. Even if I resort to dragging myself forward slowly, then I'll become too comfortable couching my thoughts and opinions so I don't out myself to the wrong person. So here goes, I'm trans and I identify as female and prefer female pronouns k thx.

I'm still not sure what I want this blog to be exactly, and because of it I am yet again stymied in my efforts to express myself. I remember back in ye olden internet times that I had a live journal account I treated as a diary, leading to all sorts of IRL complications when I used real names. And while I'm slightly more mature than I was 12 years ago, I'm not naive enough to fully adopt an unguarded diary format on a non-airgapped computer. Once burned, you know.

So diary is out, how about a digital soap box? I can totally get indignant about any number of things, and studying Gender Politics has become a pet project of mine. So... I could contribute to an established advocacy blog, but I'd mostly be preaching to the choir. If my goal is to win hearts and minds, I run into the same issues I have in my personal life of wanting acceptance and needing to forever put myself out there to face constant rejection.

So I could find some subtle way to contribute to sociopolitical discourse, or just ramble incoherently for an arbitrary number of words and paragraphs and then abruptly