Lil Nas X - Heaven and Hell and Call me by your name

 Remember Old Town Road? Remember Lil Nas X from that hit?

Yes, we all do.

Did you know that Lil Nas X is an openly gay man?

I didn't, but I found out when a lovely lesbian friend of mine told me "The new Little Nas X Video is ICONIC"

But she couldn't prepare me... for how gay it was.

And I LOVED EVERY SECOND

EVERY FRAME

Iconic. That's the word. This is Iconic.

She could not have prepared me anyway, for how revolutionary a video like this. For such a mainstream rapper to talk about gay love and sex so openly. For a deconstruction on the oppressive force Christianity has been on the lgbtq+ community for decades, centuries even.

And he did it in style.

"In life, we hide the parts of ourselves that we don't want the world to see." Lil Nas X tells me, "We lock them away. We tell them no. We banish them."

Yes we do man, it's fucked up.

"But not here... welcome to Montero."

Hmm?

Of course we start out in idealized heaven, or at least a garden of Eden. with Nas X doing bro shit, sitting under a tree - relaxing. And then a serpentine creature pops out from under the non metaphorical apple tree to tempt him.

Oh really? Might there be meaning to this?

And then they make out. Gay alien Nas X making out with aquaman getup Nas X, and I go "alright. This is great."

Then he's on trial wearing full Hunger Games meets Ruby Rhod, and I'm just 💋💖 👌

Next he gets knocked out by a buttplug.

Really, he does, go pause the image! It's a buttplug!

As he passes on, looking to the heavens, he instead takes a pole in hand and strips down to hell. Gyrating along the way. Struts into the kingdom of the fallen in heels, before giving Satan himself a lap dance.

Then he of course takes the only logical course of action from there: He murders Satan, stealing his crown.

💣 I C O N I C 💣

But anyway...

I really enjoyed displaying Eden as alien, otherworldly. Not idealistic paradise. An alien unattainable place. I suppose if I want to go all high school English class and analyze the video, Nas X is saying that Paradise is an unattainable goal. Through that logic, we can see that he - using iconography of the snake - is saying that within himself he saw the alienness of a perfect churchly lifestyle. Yet he might as well be an alien in that world, and just to the lyrics of the song, he decided to live in sin. Chilling with his friends.

It's clear that in his past, there were times when he tried to banish things about himself. Unwanted desires, and then at some point he 'fell to temptation' and found it was more familiar than anything. He walks into a colosseum with a smile, dawned in pink while the judgmental parts of himself all in blue press their verdict. These are both striking colors, but also the symbols in our culture of femininity and masculinity, and while being gay is not inherently feminine, femininity and therefor pink is thrust onto gay men as an insult. Whether they enjoy femininity or not.

Judging him is blueness, masculinity. Which are still parts of himself, but they cannot banish what is "pink" We may want to banish the truths about ourselves if others will judge us for being them, if we judge ourselves. But we can never banish what is part of us.

Nas X, tempted by the snake - which is himself as an alien, and then he knows the snake. Then he falls, and accepts the temptation. But instead of taking on shame, he does it with passion, with thigh high boots and fishnets. Accepting what was once a taboo as his identity. Himself, acting in the truest notion.

Then he dances with the devil, dances for the devil. But he does not do this simply for pleasure. By taking Satan off guard, he is able to assassinate the king of hell - taking his horns. Realizing a destiny as the fallen angel of Montero.

And one must beg the question: Who was Satan really? Because in the world of Montero, taking the crown was the most powerful, holy thing he could have done. That Montero could have done for himself.

The video has received an extreme backlash for it's blatant homoerotic imagery, it's usage of satanic themes to tell a story. Of course the backlash is primarily from those who follow the Christian faith. Many voices say "A good church would have never made a gay man feel this way." When that is not the point. The point of Montero, Lil Nas X's real legal name and identity, is that he has decided to go against that path because nonmatter what good Christians preached, he found it useless to his happiness, as he was left out of the equation. The damage is done and Christians should see the pain and the pleasure of self discovery in a homophobic world. Christians need to take up the mantle of pro gay, anti homophobic. They need to be loud for the queer community if they want us to be saved by their god.

But for many of us, we find dancing with the devil much more enticing. Why not? Satan gave Eve knowledge. God punished her for it. Maybe an ancient religion from two thousand years ago, one that has been retranslated and re-contextualized so many times that the original texts barely have meaning anymore, doesn't have all the answers,

Personally, as a member of the LGBTQ+ community myself, I find this wonderful. Let them know that we will dance with the devil if it means we get to be who we are. Satan has no power over us, we're just gay. We are just becoming who we are, we aren't deviant - those who are deviant are those who follow the steps of a devilish way are those who preach homophobic words. Words from a bible that might kind of say something about having gay sex - but the line "thou shalt not lie with another man" has also been translated as "thou shalt not lie with a child." And that line is in a section of the bible that bars the consumption of shrimp.

That isn't even diving into the deep meaning of a black male rapper being the man to speak these words within a genre traditionally overtaken by a male gaze that would admire female bodies the way that Montero is admiring himself.

And honestly, I love this for Lil Nas X.

Fuck yeah Montero. Let's go queer history, textbooks better keep up. 

Ari Aster likes to make movies about Trauma

SPOILER WARNING for Hereditary and for Midsommar. I will be talking about big plot elements in both films so consider yourself warned

Personally, my horror backlog is kinda long.

People keep telling me that Midsommar is a lot like the Wicker Man (the 1973 one), and that Hereditary is a lot like the new Rosemary’s Baby. And while I understand the comparisons, I do think it is unfair to say either is a clone. Midsommar is close, but close is not a clone. I would say Midsommar was inspired by the OG Wicker Man more than anything. Even if they were purely spiritual successors, I don't think that discredits either. Sometimes it’s worth going through old plots, themes, and twists just to rehash the horror to a new generation of audience.

However, it’s notable the ways that Midsommar struck me in ways that other horror has not, not even Hereditary. After days of meditating on that sinking gut feeling I held within me, I realized so much of what Midsommar was about touched on my own personal traumas. Therefore, I propose a theory: A person’s direct reaction to a horror film is directly correlated to the horror of their life.

Sounds simple right?

Well, without any actual statistics to back this up - I just want to note that in my personal life when it comes to these films I have noticed a trend. People who are more frightened, well, not frightened - unsettled, that's the word, by Hereditary tend to have come from some kind of cycle of generational familial abuse or trauma. And people who are more unsettled by Midsommar are more impacted by EITHER grief or heartbreak. The difference of the horror for Midsommar for me, was that the horror of Midsommar communicated grief more clearly, more shockingly. Because the death and loss there was horrific, tragic, heart wrenching. And well directed. Those first twenty minutes hit me harder than the first hour of the Last of Us. That being said, I know Hereditary is also about grief, but the situations of grief are different.

Hereditary was about grieving for a complicated relationship.

Midsommar is about being cut off from your support network by drastic loss of life.

Both wrap up the horror based on those experiences.

And that is what Ari Aster wanted right? Hereditary is about inheriting generational curses  - in the shape of an ancient persian demon that your grandma worshipped in a cult she was the matriarch of. Also! Even in death she’s trying to play cards with the demons possessing your children.

And Midsommar is about watching your shitty ex burn in a giant fire dressed like a bear because he didn’t have the decent respect to break up with you after your whole family died leaving you alone in this world in a horrific murder suicide.

Right?

Well, let me just say straight off, between the two, Midsommar hit closer to home for me. Although not for the reasons I think Ari Aster would expect - I’ve been through a dragging relationship where the breakup was shitty and a long time coming. I've cried in a Denny's parking lot after breaking up before he had the decency to order a last meal with me. I've been there. And he has claimed in interviews that Midsommar was a breakup movie to him, which is fair. We all know why Dani is sucked into a cult, the one support network she has left in her life is an asshole. Many people cheered his death, smiling with Dani.

But when I saw the ending scene, I only thought "Oh no hun that's not how you get over him."

Maybe that's because I live in the bible belt, and I have several friends who had to escape various kinds of cults. But i’ve also experienced the dramatic loss of a parent, violently, terribly, suddenly. The kind of tragedy that freezes you in time for several months, that drains every ounce of creative energy from your soul. When you become a husk of yourself, becoming a weight on all your relationships because everything you carry is so heavy that most people would rather cut you off than have the ability and want to make room to help with even a fraction of the load.

Speaking from experience: Grief changes you, especially when it’s sudden and violent, but also when it’s slow, withering. I once had a friend who, after we discussed it, realized that she and I had very similar trauma. Even though her parental loss was from cancer, and mine was from a deadly assault. In both cases a loved one’s life violently wrenched from the daily norm, for me the memory of my father hooked up to machines pumping air into his lungs, the bandages around his head, the bag of his blood going through dilation. All that imagery is seared into my mind. For her, that was several years of watching her father wither away. Baring through chemotherapy until his body became a skeleton.

That shapes you in ways you can’t truly understand until years after.

And Hereditary and Midsommar dig deep into those wounds.

That's not even mentioning the topic of generational trauma. And while I can’t say that’s something my family is drenched in, I have also had that taste. It's been ever-present in the experiences of my family even if I was relatively unscathed. Not just that I’ve helped my partner through some rough generational trauma. But it’s sympathy there. But the Empathy I felt to the main character of Midsommar rushed me through my Grief again five years after it was over and I was reliving those same demons again. Sorry Paimon, the burning bear boyfriend movie kicked me in the gut harder.

But it does bare mentioning, the narrative of tragedy and grief is a diverse one, but also one that we all have felt our lives touched by somehow. A car wreck where a newly engaged couple is severed before saying "until death do us part." A miscarriage for a child that two lovers just picked names for. A bright young woman, friendlier than can be, drowned in a freak accident. Complex stories of human life. And while none of those are movies are ones Ari Aster has touched (at least not yet), I gotta give the man credit for capturing these nuanced stories in a snapshot.

By the way all of those examples come from stories that someone I know had experienced and been shaped and molded by. Grief is a stab wound all of us experience at some point. The trauma of grief is something we all know in some way, at some point. And it's an easy nerve to pinch.

And yet... what really struck me is that after watching Midsommar, when doing heavy research into how other critics and people reacted to the film - like you do - I found that a lot of people… didn’t feel that the movie was about grief. Hell, Ari Aster didn’t feel the movie was about grief. Despite Florence Pugh putting on this brilliant example of what it’s like to become grief in the years after loosing everything… people rooted for Dani killing her boyfriend in the end like this was a black comedy.

Which is fine, people can interpret a movie however they want but HOW

Well, I know how, many people aren’t traumatized by their father’s violent death.

Did I see myself in Dani? Absolutely. I was her for several years. I still carry that piece of myself. I am no longer who I was before my father was murdered. And Ari Aster, a man who has never met me, captured my experience in a bottle and smashed me on the head with it.

Anyway, Hereditary. You know what freaked me out most about Hereditary? The fact that the grandmother was still ever present in the lives of of her daughter. I felt that because I lost a grandmother a while back and while she never was abusive to me, she certainly was abusive to one of her children - my aunt. And this woman has not lived with her mother since high school and yet her mother is in every deep conversation. Even now that my grandmother is dead this woman is still wrapped in her net.

Trauma runs deep. From abuse, from breakups, and especially, from grief. It's trauma, pretty horrific right?

And often horror is not about what is grotesque, but what is traumatic to the psyche. And sometimes it’s hard to get in touch with that essence without a little individual life experience for fuel. Yet - it seems to have touched the kind of audience who are attracted to these movies. Perhaps this is because those who are familiar with tragedy become attracted to the horror genre. Or perhaps that's because grief touches everyone, or that trauma touches everyone.

I suppose what i'm saying is, I'm impressed. Way to dig into my soul with a rusty shovel man. Your movies are simultaneously like therapy and antitherapy. How do you do it?

The subtle art of only being somewhat overweight

Something that has been on my mind lately is how Tess Holiday, model and author of "The Not So Subtle Art of Being a Fat Girl," has been all over my Facebook feed. She has been getting a lot of attention for just openly being happy about her size, and how goals to loose weight are just not her priority. I do believe she doesn't care about the concept of "health" as a priority in her life either. Her common mantra is being "unapologetic" with her fatness in order to love the skin you are in and I think that's a good cause. So I plan to articulate how I support that, and I want to deconstruct a lot of the argument's that are anti fat positivism.

I want to preface this with the fact that I haven't read the book, reading is a very stressful activity for me but it is on the infinite list of books to read.  However, I feel I have the authority to talk about this subject because #1 I have (because of reason #2 as well) taken a course on fat stigma in society, which was quite a crash course in fat studies. and #2 I am overweight and while I am not obese (well, by some definitions, such as BMI, I qualify as obese), and because of that I have lived life as a fat person. Not just a fat person, a fat person who is denied having that label. "Oh honey, you aren't fat! You're gorgeous." As if the very expression of my anxieties when it comes to my health should be silenced because that would also admit that I am a damned fat person. Which equals an ugly person, and since the womanly goal in this world is to be beautiful that just isn't allowed.

I live in this world, where even if I were to care about my health (which I do), expressing that I am fat is an admittance into something. And it is important that we understand that.

Now lets direct our attention toward the common arguments against fat positivism.

We all know it, and to some extent - it sounds reasonable.

"Why are you putting unhealthy standards on a pedestal? Won't you just inspire people to be....

Unhealthy?"

Since the normal demographic to make this criticism is usually not overweight (if they are, this sentiment just becomes nuanced); I have always seen this statement as one of an outsider. Perhaps this person has loved ones who are overweight or obese, perhaps they share this sentiment or perhaps they are a hypocrite. That doesn't matter. The idea that fatness is being somehow glorified by the act of fat acceptance still seems like a stretch. The dominant cultural idea of beauty and health is and is going to be for awhile - thin. Except for the rare exception (usually as the result of a counterculture anyway), people are going to still want to be thin or thinner even if fatness is put on a stage. The vast majority of fat people would be happy having less weight. Fat acceptance really doesn't have anything to do with fat except for the fact that our society just hyperfocuses on fat to create a social order where certain body types are hated and ridiculed, dehumanized even. Fat acceptance is about a body not denoting the worth of the individual who has that body.

A supremely obese person deserves to exist, have their needs met, and be happy. Their life matters and they are valuable intrinsically. That is the essence of fat acceptance. This is rooted in an ideology that separates the individual from the body. Besides the brain that encases every human thought and emotion

Let us refocus on that connection between fatness and ugliness, after all, I know critics of this are going to pick at that. "But the issue with fat acceptance is that bodies that are literally unhealthy are glorified." I see you boo. We getting there.

My argument is that I want to be seen as beautiful not because i'm fat, but because I am worth existing. I am more than my body.

But also, fatness is not unhealthy in essence. I am a healthy person, not hyperhealthy but I subsist off a nutritious, low fat and medium carb diet. Focusing on high protein and vegetable intake. I go to the gym, I do not engage in common reckless behaviors and I have no addictions other than caffeine. My biggest sidetrack to full health is occasional tobacco indulgences, budget limitations, and some bingish drinking.

But that is just me, what about other fat people?

Well, why should their priority be health?

For all those eyerolls back there, hear me out. I truly think that this attack on fat people and their health is quite rude and intrusive. If you aren't their doctor then their health is not your business. The only other reason to care about the health of strangers is if you are studying the impact that has on a society. And that means going through academic channels and using academic lenses which require a certain amount of higher education to effectively use. So for those of you non-sociologists: Shush! - you aren't their doctor.

Furthermore, let me give you some insight. Because I am one of many many people who are overweight, or even of a normal size who have body image issues. I can very much trace this back to the obsession our society has over the body, one that has been exaggerated. Fatness is seen as indulgence, excess, taking up space. And the lense of understanding the social understating of fat as "out of control" is one I find both fascinating and personal. My main insecurities do not come from not being beautiful, although that is an aspect of fat. The main insecurity surrounds this idea of discipline.

Biologically, body shape has more to do with genetics than personal action - but we fat people know very well how the judgement of our weight, of our shape, of our habits, of our indulgences are seen with the keenist of critical eyes. One single ice cream cone doesn't equal 100 extra pounds, but when a skinny person and a fat person stand next to each together, sharing the same size cone in hand, it might as well be so.

Every action is scrutinized, and judged before the social world in a way that people outside the fat box could not know unless they've been there before. And that doesn't prevent us from getting ice cream, the shame of our bodies isn't a magical cure to whatever blockade society thinks is in the way of our minds path to the hot bod. We are aware of how we look, we are aware how we are seen.

So when we hear "Are we glorifying an unhealthy weight with fat positivity?" it sounds bonkers to us. How can something hated be glorified? All we want, is to be seen as normal. Not healthy, normal. Part of life, worthy of existence.

The jump to conclusions is not lost on us, and knowing the difference shouldn't be this hard.

However, that is not all. The thing about fat is it's not something we choose to have. It is a natural part of our bodies. Adipose tissue our ancestors used to store the extra nutrients for another day. Of course, our ancestors did not purposefully do this - it was genetics that decided when the pounds packed on. But the social understanding of fat is basically, anything not skinny. And both skinny and fat are these objective markers that are determined not by empirical measure, but word of mouth. Even the thinnest of people can relate to "Being fat" somewhere on their body.

For me, what this means is I am fat. Because I am 'just overweight enough' to not be skinny to most eyes. But not all eyes. And not fat in the way of "Discourage this person from existing"

When i proclaim I'm skinny, it is wrong. When I proclaim I'm fat, I'm corrected - "you're body is fine!" They tell me. Meaning fat is not just a state of being, it's derogatory. It's profane.

But to us, it's a fact of existence. This clash of what fatness is to society clashes with the worth of people who happen to be fat. And acceptance, shouldn't that just be recognizing that fatness is more than just medical. It's a forced aesthetic with negative consequences.

The Haunting of Bly Manor, but let's rework the script!

I just finished "The Haunting of Bly Manor" And... I have thoughts.

First I have to say:

The Haunting of Bly Manor is good. Very good.

A delightful cast of fleshed out characters, great dialogue, good effects. Spooky layers. Well done horror/thriller style show about spooky things that almost got a nearly perfect rating from me. However, the ending was out of place and jarring. Especially when the rest of the show was a creepy thriller. *thumbs down* On the last two episodes. Especially the last like 10 minutes of the last episode. Like a happy ending doesn't have to go to the Hallmark channel.




And I have quite the many thoughts, therefore:

Spoilers!!!! for anyone who's listening

So, the rest of the show is great until last 2 episodes. 8 tells the story of why this rage ghost is a faceless woman in the river. And 9 explores this interesting dynamic of a memoryless rage ghost stuck to Dani after she saved Flora's life. And Dani slowly looses herself. But Dani lives with her gf for years before loosing herself slowly to the rage ghost, and then goes back to the Manor to harmlessly exist as a calming force against the rage ghost who she fused with and quelled by being an awesome compassionate loving woman. Of course this is told to the family and friends who experienced it years later as if this was some happy friendly Christmas story. When the show is originally framed as a thriller.

This feels like such a first draft ending, and I want to workshop it.

So, cut episode 8 about Viola and Perdita, because its an info dump of an episode that would be so much more suited to be the entire background content for SEASON TWO

Episode 9 comes after 7 with the cliffhanger where Dani gets caught by the rage ghost, but instead of Hannah the housekeeper (who is a ghost) being powerless to stop the rage ghost, Hannah actually saves Dani. And while she does so, she (and maybe Dani too) sees the deep seeds of rage within the rage ghost, who has forgotten who she is and why she is even so full of rage. And Hannah goes "What could have ever caused such Rage?"

Scene: Dani is lying in Hannah's arms crying, and they both go "did we both just feel that?" And it's a big bonding moment between the two. Now these two realize that this rage ghost is the reason the ghosts here are stuck, and Hannah reveals she is dead too. Dani goes 'oh no' and then realizes little boy Miles is also possessed and therefor she can't just leave because there is too many souls on the line. Flora is there too, and Flora goes "she's so angry, but why is she angry. Why does she keep waking up. and walking, and sleeping?" Setting up a new goal for the whole crew to investigate this rage ghost and understand why she is in the lake and why is she so angry from clues on the property.

Therefore ALL OF SEASON TWO IS THE SOLID CAST OF CHARACTERS INVESTIGATING EVERYTHING THAT WAS INFO DUMPED IN EPISODE 8 so they can DEFEAT THIS RAGE GHOST.

First they need to discover if and how to make these faceless ghosts restore their memories.

Second, they need to investigate who some of the other faceless ghosts are and what they may know of the cursed rage ghost in the lake.

Then lastly, discovering who the rage ghost is.

And it can have a lot of drama. Including Hannah having to hide that she's a ghost from her love interest the cook. Other characters could get 'tucked away' in memories of other ghosts on the property. The punny cook could be used to investigate the plague doctor for instance. Also since Miles is being possessed by abusive scottish dude, maybe he interferes and gets Miles in big danger. Like maybe Viola remembers who she is and just doesn't care that it's been hundreds of years she wants Flora because she thinks Flora is her daughter. The scene where Dani fuses with the rage ghost could even be kept in!

ANOTHER THING there are now both living and dead main characters. WHICH MEANS some clues can be found only by a living person, or a dead person. And it takes both working together to solve the puzzle of who Viola is and how to stope her rage ghost madness. Also maybe doing so helps Perdita remember who she is and then she becomes another vicious rage ghost enemy that the crew has to defeat. Or she could become an ally, or another clue. So much room to work.

Actually this wouldn't have even needed a season 2, maybe even just one or two more episodes and half the setup was already filmed in episode 8. And many parts of episode 9 could be reused too.

Most importantly, the gay couple could have a happy ending too. Fuck you show for making this "well we were able to live together for awhile and it was alright while it lasted." Like Dani's rage ghost possession was cancer and not a rage ghost. EXCORCISE THE RAGE GHOST. GET VIOLA'S MEMORIES BACK SO SHE STOPS BEING A RAGE GHOST ATTACHED TO A PERFECTLY FINE GAY WOMAN.

"Romantic Movies"

Minor spoilers for the 50 shades series and major spoilers for 365 days but honestly you shouldn't read or watch them because they are bad. Pro tip: go watch sex positive people on the YouTube roast them both. There are so many better love stories out there, even kinky and erotic ones.

Remember when the whole progressive side of the internet was up in arms about how bad 50 shades of grey is? How it was using BDSM as a flashy showcase and not representing the morals of the community, and that so much of how it was written was creepy and abusive?

365 days is worse. Like 50 shades is about an unhealthy relationship between a young woman who doesn't know how to advocate for herself being manipulated by a emotionally blocked off guy.

365 days is that except the woman is framed as a bad boss who has agency until this mob boss falls in love with her face and kidnaps her. And its romanticized that she looses that autonomy to him. Flat out, the whole movie is from her perspective being manipulated by a kidnapper. And it's framed as romantic and hot. I hate that the lack of consent has to be explained. There can be no aspects of consent in that relationship because from the start she has no free will. Kidnapping isn't romantic. Why is it framed as such???

Also the 365 days kidnapper is framed as sympathetic and that what he's doing is okay because it's *true love*

From my perspective, both movies would have been actually worth my time if they were reframed to be thrillers and not love stories. 50 shades would have been better if it explored Mr. Dommy Christian Grey as a villain instead of a love interest. He could have been this weirdly sympathetic villain tho, like a man trapped in his own masculine façade that he can't form relationships and uses women. It would have at least been poignant. And I wish 365 days was about how psychologically terrible it would be to be kidnapped by a guy and 'forced' to fall in love with him. She lashes out against her abuser several times in the movie and it doesn't lead up to anything like it should. There's a bunch of setup that didn't do anything and didn't go anywhere and it was a bunch of missed opportunities. Maybe the movie could have explored Stockholm syndrome and the cycle of abuse, like that would have been *problematic* but at least it would have been substance. It's sickening that they are love stories because no healthy love is present in either. Only manipulation.

Someone tell the media that the masculine 'Mr in charge' guy, and the 'always gets his way' guy can still practice consent and be sexy. You don't have to make him a kidnapper or a control freak to make him sexy so please don't.

Also, if I wrote 365 days I would have had a plot twist. Keep the guy a manipulative high and mighty hypocrite (by the way the guy from 365 days is anti human trafficking but he kidnaps a woman because he fell in love with her -in a vision-) and the woman will still get kidnapped by him, she will act out the whole time but still be steadily wooed by him. But I would change up the framing so instead of the side story about him being a mob boss being just like, his background, I would make it a plot element. I would make the woman he kidnaps a secret assassin from a rival mob, who planted the idea of her in his mind because the rival mobster is just mad he's a hypocrite or for a personal bloodfued or something. Anyway, she only pretends to be mad she's kidnapped and is acting like she doesn't want it at first to sell the illusion, and acts like she's falling in love with him to gain his trust and make him think he's in control. Maybe i'd make her toy with him the way he toyed with some rival mobsters son or something, add a lil backstory, but make it vague and not tie her to it until the end. Like just one scene about him toying with people in an abandoned house or something and boom the setup is all there. Also I would make the moment that she is revealed to never have been in love with him, and that she was just planted in his head by some hypnosis bs, the same moment she kills him. Boom. Better more compelling ending, more intriguing plot, playing with expectations. Movie would immediately go from a 0/10 to like a 6/10.




Just a thought.

Nonbinary

CW: Self hatred, mentions of body mutilation, body and gender dysphoria

I think I want to transition.

I haven't considered myself a man nor woman for a long time now. Years, but... It's never been something I have talked about, or felt the need to explain in detail. It was an internal decision, that once I came to allieviated so much angst that I didn't really need to do much else. I began to dress different, but to everyone around me I still seemed the same.

I was assigned female at birth, and my feminine anatomy does not cause me anguish, at least not now - in my adulthood. I enjoy my breasts, my hips, my legs, the curve of my face, the vulva that decided it all. However, I so greatly want to envelope myself in an alternate reality where I have a flat chest, a straight figure, a more rugged face with a stronger jaw, perhaps even a penis.

I cannot go to that reality easily, not without lots of surgeries and relearned behaviors. The distress of learning how to become feminine was exhausting, so many hours staring at my figure, obsessing over every shape. I was like many young girls, taught that fat was bad and thin was good. I think that was a source to begin looking, but then I tumbled down a rabbit hole of feeling... alien. All the other girls seemed to just "get it" they put clothes on their body and found posture so easily. "How do they do it so easily?" I pondered internally. Their shapes seemed to make sense, mine seemed "wrong" somehow.

This angst reigned over me, I wrongly mistook it all to be because I was overweight. That was the shape that was the most wrong somehow. However even when I was at my most thin - during an illness that cause weight loss - I found the first little trace of comfort because my body finally seemed to look like the other girls who "got it"

But it didn't feel like my body at that point. I felt like a mannequin, but I found comfort in it. I finally felt like I could blend in.

 I would have to tell another story of growing up with a learning disorder to explain why I felt so outcasted, but today is not that day. All I know is that my breasts were "small" until my late teens - about the time I entered college. I gained weight at the same time and the proportions began to feel off again, and then they were suddenly completely a mess. I gained weight so fast, and during a time that I was so busy, that I didn't even notice until I stepped on a scale in the gym. Mirrors were liars. I already saw my shapes as so wrong that when the weight gain hit me I didn't even notice because those shapes were already wrong. But once I had a number to it, I became intensely aware of how my shapes changed. I would press my breasts together and pray for them to blow up like balloons. Worse, I would stare at myself and have vivid fantasies of cutting open my stomach and taking out whatever was stuffing my belly so full. Fat, organs, anything. I wanted rid of it all to have the right shape. I already had this delusion in high school, but the feelings were worsened now. It didn't help that I had no money to update my wardrobe. Everything fit small.

Bras also began to cause so much pain! My mother helped in this venture. We bought new size after new size until I found that only extra large sports bras were the only thing I could wear. They mashed down the shape of my bosom. I felt more confident in T shirts than the dresses I used to wear, because my chest could only be contained by flattening it. There was still pain on my back from any bra, but I was so afriad of my own nipples showing that I didn't venture to go braless for another few years, but shapes changed, and again I was aware of them.

I also fell down another rabbit hole of self hatred. I didn't feel like a good human being, I didn't feel worthy of love or compassion. I saw nothing special about myself. I saw myself as weak and unable - and all those ugly feelings transferred to the mirror. My eyes translated all that ugly onto my face. My face was more like a blob. In my eyes I saw an ugly mutated monster from a sewer.

Then a friend, avant guard in very nature and my introduction into queer and gay identities, hosted a gender reversal party. Everyone was instructed to come gender bent. We had no friends in the group who were trans by identity, it was just a space where everyone could play with the binary by blurring it a bit.

I remember awkwardly wondering into a Goodwill to find affordable mens clothing. Looking over my shoulder, worried someone would ask why I was in the Mens area. "You are not a man." I could hear invisible voices say. I found A shirt that was too small - because I was not used to going up a size for my new body type yet - and a grey pair of pants in the mens section that were the only pair that fit over my hips without making me look like a farmer.

I went to a walgreens to buy bindings, and tied down my breasts. It all felt like so much effort. They still were not completely flat, but it was... a new look. A new shape.

Then came my face. Oh gods, my face. Already I had found a ritual of passing my own mirror and feeling my heart drop out of my chest. My face was disgusting, symbolizing the monster inside of me. It looked... not better, but different as I tried to transform into a man for the night. The blobish nature of my face seemed more... right. Not comfortable, but better because the shapes around it were more complimenting.

It took me an hour to find the courage to leave my dorm room. Looking at my face, the pants I bought that still didn't hide my hips. The fact that I could tell I still had breast tissue.

"You can't change into a man overnight." I had to whisper to myself.

I arrived at the party early, and the gay host looked at me and went, "oh honey, that sure is an attempt, but not good enough. We can do better." And rushed me into the bathroom to draw a mustache and beard on my face.

I went from feeling awkward in my new shapes, to feeling like a cartoon. But the rest of the party arrived in their own genderbent clothes and... the night went on. No one was disgusted by my ghoulish appearance like I was. Drinks and laughs were had, and I remember this event like a window.

I knew I did not want to be a man, but like I mentioned - the anguish and disgust over my body went away when I admitted to myself that I was not a woman. I have a healthy relationship with my body now, and my mind. I no longer see myself as worthless, but full of validity.

In hindsight I can trace back all the self hatred to a mixture of hatred of the womanly expectations thrust upon me and the fear of a fat and ugly body. The latter I dealt with with shaping my relationship with the idea of health - but to feel comfortable with my body in a world of genders, I had to realize I am nonbinary, and the feminine ideal is one I had to subvert to even feel comfortable in. I subvert it by wearing a costume of the feminine every day. I still wear dresses and skirts, and my body has the curves of a body that has been fed estrogen its entire life. But estrogen does not make a woman. Womanhood and Manhood are social constructs, and each has its own identity script that every person within the identity can use and subvert at their leisure. Nonbinaryness is both the effort to find an identity outside of the binary system

But this entire time, I still have been using the script of woman. Not because I felt comfortable in it from the start, but because I learned it and so womanhood became a tool for me to use. I feel like an alien again anytime I become a man. Because I am neither.

However, this has led me to be curious. My whole life has revolved around the estrogen ideal and it just doesn't completely work for me. I want to dabble, I want to play with my shapes now that I love my body. I want to try testosterone, but I do not want to be a man.

Maybe I am romanticizing transitioning, now that I have many friends and acquaintances that have transitioned and are experiencing a full happiness, but honestly I am terrified to change my body. I am happy with my shapes, but there is no way for me to hop into an alternate world where I can have the shapes of a testosterone formed body. Yet, I find myself in a place where I think I need to dabble.

If all that anxiety taught me anything, its that, my body is what I make of it, and is the base layer of my own aesthetic. So, a little experimentation may be in order.

The turbulent queer life of being non-binary when you date cis men.

"Men are Trash"

"Fuck men"

"All men should die"

These were statements common around the media platforms I used in my undergrad - mainly Tumblr - and still speckle throughout my social media usage. As should come as no surprise, I was a heavy Tumblr user, however I also found conversation and discourse on Facebook and later Reddit. However, the term "tumblrina" was probably very applicable to a younger version of me. Yet, I see these kinds of statements that claim to be "resisting masculinity" outside of that main Tumblr force. Especially on Facebook but not exclusively.

Even as these statements permeated the speech of my peers around me, I found myself very unsettled by the anti-men sentiments. The only time I found these statements in any way useful, positive, or agreeable was when they were expanded out. When someone with extra time decided to devote a few minutes to explaining why certain feminist and LGBTQ+ spaces used these statements.

It would look something like this: "Saying 'all men are trash' is just more efficient than explaining the complexity of the hegemonic masculinity men are indoctrinated into and how it creates an environment that devalues basic human emotions as feminine traits and therefor inferior traits, making basic emotions from women and womanhood in general as inferior too. Since that's just complicated, we just say 'fuck men'" And... I suppose a younger me could have been on board with that.

One obvious problem with that is the leap from a deconstruction of society's gender ideals to... a negative statement about a gender... or gender catagory. Which the statement can be applied to both. I understand that masculinity is seen as the default by our society, and I understand that traditional gender ideals pitting masculinity against femininity creates an equation of toxicity toward both of those gender scales and also toxicity beyond the historical dual gender system our society is obsessed with. I understand it well, I was raised as a woman in a conservative family who did not completely feel comfortable in that assigned gender.

That doesn't change the fact that when men, and a majority of society that includes but is not limited to men, hear "All men are trash." They hear something to the affect of: feminists think i'm trash arbitrarily because of my gender. Which looks like the same sexist tendencies they champion to be against. Therefore they are both hypocrites and sexists.

Here is the thing. I don't necessarily think that is a jump in reasoning. Yes, from a surface level understanding - this claim of "men should die" and "men are trash"  is very anti masculine. And therefore sexist if we view the term as based in individual action and not in systemic activity. Of course, the argument of those who use these statements is generally this rebuttal: Terms like "sexism" and "racism" are only relevant when referring to demographics that have historically been and are continuing to be systemically oppressed.

But - that is not the language critics are using. Racism and sexism are both defined as prejudice and discrimination against a group based on their "race" and their "sex" respectively. And we live in a society and culture that places individualistic meaning to be forefront to identity. Therefore, racism and sexism (also classism, for anther example) are actions of an individual - and to put it as quickly as possible - the majority of people do not think in terms of systemic oppression. Oppression is hard to feel like a tangible thing, even if you are surrounded by it and therefore actions by an individual are a stronger argument for sexism and racism for the average person who are not steeped in social scientific cultural analyzing

Beyond that, I also have lived a personal amount of harm from this shock value cry.

"Fuck men." Yes. I hear you girls, but - this is for you: My sisters and siblings. My fellow friends. I have a criticism for my community.

I have taken my years to slowly come out to myself and others as something other than womanly, perhaps because my idea of womanhood alienates me - but mostly because I was thrust into a gendered world that I was not completely comfortable existing in. But since I was not totally alienated by the idea of femininity - only the idea that femininity is lesser. My first path of identity through this world was by being a specifically strong, fierce, willed, feminist woman. One who took no shit. It was a direct rebellion against the very specific box of womanhood I was thrust into. That box was trickled down from my heratage - which is half Texan southern belle, still privileged from the antebellum, with spots of New England mannerisms, Basically, a Heinz 57 of heratage. I am English, Scottish, Irish, etc. I can do this all day... but I am an American woman who was raised by that brand of middle class white conservative christian. I hated that idea of womanhood. However, the further I dove into the world of femininity as an expanded identity... I found myself still lost.

At some point, I discovered that I was not a woman. Which was hard to come to, since we live in a binary society. One that understands masculinity and femininity to be on opposite sides of a spectrum. And that isn't quite right, they are complementary, not opposites - and while I enjoy dabbling in manhood and masculinity - I feel just as strongly that I am no man just as I feel strongly that I am no woman. That doesn't change the fact that womanhood is the closest thing to a gender I have been socialized to be, so I am comfortable looking the part.

For all you who may be browsing through this grumbling spree of specialized queer issues while being non-queer or questioning but not submerged to the various LGBTQ conversations... let me just kind of gloss over this. Because there is a lot of inter-conflict within the LGBTQ community that you have to be involved with to understand.

Firstly, its hard to be bisexual in the queer community when you date the opposite sex because it looks "hetero," Secondly, there is a conflict between the young LGBTQ community and in older LGBTQ, especially in regards to being a lesbian, a bisexual or in that catch all phrase of being Queer. Lastly, its hard to be transgender if you don't completely look like the gender you most identify with.

Let's focus on that last one. I am by some definitions, Transgender. But I do not wish to identify by that label. Usually, Trans is reserved for people who live their life as one gender for an extended amount of time before realizing or coming out. I say usually because some children transition and identify as trans. Trans is an identity and doesn't have ridged lines... yet, I don't feel trans. I feel queer. I feel I came out, not transitioned. I have a solid feeling that the first twenty or so of my lives I had to navigate an identity just because I was boxed in it, and that I had to bust down the walls a bit to feel more comfortable in that label.

But, I didn't have to erase my womanness, just expand my identity beyond womanhood. I am a woman, kind of.

I am no trans person - at least not in my mind - but I am not a woman like society thinks I am. I present as such, because on many levels I am closeted. But I do not see a world where I can present as my true gender, because I am a non-binary person. And I am not alone. I specifically lie somewhere between genderfluid and agender. For those of you at home uninformed, just think of me as someone who walks through the world pretty confused why people do the things they do. I don't understand - at least as an interactive form of identity - why some women feel the need to put on makeup as a feminizing ritual, or why some men feel most comfortable with short hair or button up. I can have fun putting on makeup, and I enjoy my hair styled both short and long. I like having boobs to show off and having a flat chest to pose in button ups.

Anthropology was the first real revelation to a lot of these gendered actions to me. A class went over how masculine and feminine intersected, just exhibited their behaviors differently. Women and men are supposed to both be emotionally strong. A fallacy in logic for one thing, but also one that exhibits itself so diversely that we forget the standard is still similar.  Men are supposed to be the head, that supports the family by stoic example. While the woman is the neck and shoulders, distributing the emotional weight. These are both unrealistic expectations for men and for women.

I hate that it is somehow controversial to say - men have emotions and bottling those is toxic. Men should experience their emotions, not bottle them and it is often meaningful and intimate to experience these emotions with people and that can be a good example. Furthermore, it is unrealistic to expect woman to be the maternal figure who supports all emotional labor of a family unit or friend group because anyone who has been that shaman guide through emotional experiences can tell you it is EXHAUSTING to be that support.

And, as I was raised to be that emotional support, not the stoic example. Realizing these were two coping mechanisms for what can be boiled down to the same emotional expectation - mainly emotional strength, that was meaningful when I was young. I often gained my largest sense of identity when I was and still receive validation when I support people through emotionally turbulent times. But I don't think this makes me feel womanly.

Of course, the other example of womanness is one often weaponized against trans woman and trans men. Reproduction. I remember, especially during that awkward period of grade-school when we girls got to learn about menstruation, how many women exuberantly described "the miracle of birth," and I don't think I was the only little eleven year old just not feeling that.

And, however, I do want to have children one day. But that doesn't make me feel like a woman, just a person who has a uterus and therefor a reproductive system where I do not inject sperm but eject a baby. But I don't feel especially feminine because of my ability to push life out of me if I want to. Its... kind of cool, and part of me wants to pop a baby out and nurture it. Making a life is existentially horrible knowing the world I live in and my family medical history... but i'm still down to do it for some reason. I relate to the intensive feeling of parenthood and to easily communicate that I often describe one of my life goals to be "motherhood" but... I just want to be a parent. Not this feminine mother. I don't want to be anti-mother I just cannot truly describe easily with the limitation of language how the feminine ideal of parenthood is a fully formed picture that I do not fit into. I can cherry pick certain ideas of motherhood, womanhood, girlhood, etc. That I can enjoy as part of my identity but I don't feel comfortable in that box. I also don't feel comfortable in the other default box of fatherhood, manhood, boyhood.... but I am not a man. So, I personally reject the box, I made my own identity.

Yet... Femininity is a tool. A mask, one I can put on when going out into the world. So, like I have inferred, I look like a girl. I look like a duck and quack like one, because it's convieneint, easy. I can only imagine the social exhastion of wearing my binder outside more, or shaving my head like I want to. I don't, and therefor, I pass. Passing is a large part of this equation, which is part of the reason I rambled on about it. As someone who sits outside of that sphere, I have a unique insight on gender. However, effectively, to the average eye, I function as a woman. I'm kind of a secret agent. When we consider the main point of this piece - The goal of the statements such as "Men are trash" and such is to be anti toxic masculine, anti hegemonic masculine. But I do not hear that. The other reason is so other people confused about their appearance versus their identity can perhaps get a little look at another side.

And I date men. All kinds of men, not just cis men, but cis men - they really like me. I share interests with them in that "tomboy" way, I understand what lusting for a woman feels like, and... there are just a lot of cis men in my city. I don't get very many girls chasing after me because most of us are in the closet here in the midwest and the south.

Also, guess what? I am kind of in a closet too. Remember, I restrict my public actions into a box that I am not completely confortable in because... I haven't had much of an opportunity to expand outwards - for a lot of reasons. So when it comes to these statements, where I look like a cis girl dating cis men... What I end up hearing from my own queer community is "You are trash, because you like men."

Let me expand on this. I am a non-binary human in a female body who presents as feminine by default. We have already gone over this. What I cannot truly express is the pure anxiety I have had over this non-binary identity. I do not fit into either of the two boxes in a society that is already very rigid about which box you should fit in. Trans men and trans women can verify what i'm talking about. My coping mechanism for this has been to pass as a woman, which sort of creates this paradox where I am both a queer human and unaccepted in some corners of the queer community.