This morning was a glorious morning. The fog, here and there, the orange sun, sheep sat in the fields, cockerels singing good morning, even the motorway to my husband’s work was a great journey, little hillocks appearing here and there out of the sea of fog, fog clearing up, trees donning the festive colours. October is one beautiful month indeed.
As we turned to corner to go into my husband’s office area, there was someone standing at the bus stop. Two long black braids, standing almost defiantly, just there, at the bus stop. My husband couldn’t help a “boy? girl?” I was baffled I must admit so I just said “lovely”. I will say she, because that’s the vibe I got, but she could have easily been a he. I felt she was both, very very clearly. But what she definitely was, and I said it out loud, was “lovely”.
She wasn’t just boy/girl. Her powerful black thick hair suggested the kind of hair black people have. Her features, though extremely gentle (sort of Halle Berry-type), were in quite a large round face. Her skin was very white, but she definitely had black features, somehow. Her body was glorious. She was just wearing jeans (discreet flares) over her long legs and a short jacket, you’d think seventies’ disco clubbing the night before? But no, I got the feeling it was all too discreet for disco and it was her daytime attire (I hope so anyway, had I her body even at my age I would most certainly want to dress like that). I had a feeling she was only just going to school, or work, perhaps? She stood tall but her legs and hands were crossed. In defiance but also fearful. I can imagine, there must still be idiots who would shout stuff at you on the street.
In truth, it wasn’t obvious to me what to call her: him, her. She was one of those people who could really do with an in-between pronoun (what’s taking so long, why don’t we have one already?). She reminded me in a flash of that beautiful, intense character in Imajica, one of my favourite (dark) fantasy books, by Clive Barker, which I intended to re-read soon. I loved her/him, and I loved that the author clearly loved her/him too, and I very recently found out that Clive Barker’s favourite of his own books is precisely Imajica.
Anyhow. I hope before I go I will live in a world where sexuality and gender are better known and just part of the every day normal and it is not, and never will it ever again be, an issue. All that person was, standing at the bus stop, in all her contradictions, was lovely. I hope she/he has a brilliant and reassuring day in Sheffield today.
Gender is something that happens to us after the asexuality of childhood and before the asexuality of old age. I think in between the two we get about thrity years of gender….
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Sounds right. I also think a lot of people would be at least bisexual if not so strictly guided by ancient society to adhere to one orientation.
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I think so too. There is a reason heterosexual men engage in homosexual behavior when isolated for long periods of time from women.
There is a reason heterosexual women can have sex with other women and why images of lesbian sex are so pervasive in film and pornography.
I have never met a gay identified man who has never had sex with a woman in his life.
And when I was younger, I didn’t know anyone straight identified men who had not ‘experimented’ at least once.
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Pie’oh’pah?
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YES! I found out after I’d posted what his/her name was. One of the most beautifully created and conveyed characters I’ve come across.
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Beautiful post.
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Thank you Jay 🙂
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Beautiful.
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Thank you 🙂
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If only everyone was as open as you when it comes to gender fluidity!
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I mean *open-minded
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Really, I realise it’s naive of me to NOT understand why people shouldn’t be. I guess I was never taught that it was an issue at all? I don’t know. It baffles me and makes me so angry and sad that it’s not like that:/
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