(no subject)

So I haven't written in here in a while, largely because I've been working until I'm exhausted. Last week, I was commuting to Athens and back every day and then doing family chores at home while my parents were gone. This week, I've been settling into the new room and my new job, which is awesome even if all making vials of fly food is a bit repetitive. Doesn't matter, since the people are awesome, especially my supervisor B.

Anyway, I recently got my hair cut. Well, cut shorter than it was, anyway; it used to be a good three to four inches when it was freshly done and now it's a one-inch pixie cut. And I'd actually wanted to do that for a long time; I've always wanted very short hair, and I've been gradually choosing shorter and shorter cuts and inching my way to what I really want--hair which won't be in my eyes or on my neck or cause tangles or need a lot of work in the morning. The hairdresser I went to also has short hair and made me feel great about choosing the cut I did. I was so pleased on the way home that I sang the entire way back, loud punchy enthusiastic songs. I love this haircut.

And then my parents came home and saw it. And the look of horror on my parents' faces just made me die inside, just a little. My mother in particular seemed particularly upset, and since she was the one to drive me back to Athens I got stuck with her in the car expressing how upset she was that I'd decided to get a short pixie cut without styling it. She was very insistent that if you want to have short hair, you should wear make up and feminine clothing and big earrings to make your femininity obvious. I even asked her "what, do you want me to get my ears pierced?" because I wanted her to just stop. (I have no desire to pierce my ears.)

She also told me that the (women's!) polo shirts I like are "really a men's style" despite the fact that when I wear them, they hug my body and emphasize my waist and curves. But I guess the collar makes them MANLY or something. And then when I said "look, I'll buy paste and put it in my hair of a morning and all" to placate her, and I said "I just liked the way pixie hair cuts looked, okay?" because I was by this point really defensive and a little upset, she said "Good. I just don't want to be around when some girl tries to pick you up, okay?" ...really? Really? 

I just don't know how to be myself around her. I don't know why she's so hung up on my gender expression--it's mine, and I've told her repeatedly that if I get mistaken for gay or hit on by lesbian women, I'm not going to be any more upset or weirded out than if a guy hits on me. Hell, I told her that I don't identify as straight about a month ago. I don't know why she thinks that I would give a damn if someone female wanted to date me. Do I need to say "Mom, I identify as queer, what with the whole asexual thing, and furthermore I think I'd actually rather be in a relationship with a woman if I wanted to be in one at all?" (Not that I've ever had a crush on anyone, it's more that I generally get along much better with women than with men.) And I don't know how to bring that up without hurting her, because I know she loves me and I really suspect that a lot of this is her projecting her own issues with femininity onto me. And I get it a lot, because K is the easy heterosexual Catholic feminine daughter who is sweet and nice and doesn't keep coming up with uncomfortable personal revelations. 

Hah. I used to think that all I wanted out of my parents was to quit asking me who I had a crush on and asking me if I was gay and wanted to come out to them. Now I'm not so sure. Now I've had a taste of people who accept me for who I am, at least in the gender/orientation way, and my god is that ever intoxicating. (J came by to see me for the first time since I cut my hair the other day and looked surprised for a moment and then immediately said "Wow, I like your haircut, it looks good on you!" I'd been terrified she would judge me about it too, maybe not quite rationally, and proceeded to tell her exactly how awesome she was and how upset I'd been about my parents.)

For my final paper for my Psych of Women class, I have to transgress a gender norm and write about it. And there's a note at the end of it which says that my professor hopes that the assignment will give us "increased compassion for those who violate gender roles every day." Which... I just feel so bitter about, because I'm freaking cis. I'm not genderqueer or trans or neutrois. There's nothing wrong with those things, but it's not me. And I'm so very fucking tired of having my gender expression policed because I maybe don't always scream "LOOK AT ME I'm A GIRL GIRL GIRL SEE MY GIRLINESS" from a distance. It's at the point where I maybe say I'm more butch than I really am because every possible choice I make about my appearance that is less than feminine brings on the "but you'll be perceived badly" from her.