My Metaphorical Penis – Tools, Toys, and Identity4 min read

My gender and sexuality are toys and tools to have fun with and to use to my advantage.

I think it’s because I was accidentally raised with the entitlement of a straight-white-NT-man.  This was the product of being the youngest of four children – two older sisters and a twin brother.  My parents, being parents in the 80s, didn’t pay much attention to the development of our gender or sexuality, or indeed even basic standards of health and safety.  So by the time my parents got to my brother and me, we were raised as a pair of boys and left to get on with it.

I’ll be clear now: I don’t mask.  I’ve never masked.  We all know I’m unusual.  If I tried to mask, it would be comical, like trying to pass off a gorilla as a giraffe.  I’m too noisy, too chaotic, too innovative to pretend to be normal.  I don’t have time for that. 

Gender has never been anything I’ve had any angst about.  I remember telling my mother that I wanted to be a boy, and her saying, “Alright, dear,” as she dealt with the million and one things a working mother of four does with her day.  When I said the same to my father, I think he was relieved.  He knew what he was doing with boys.

So I’ve never fit in with men or women.  It wasn’t because I wasn’t very good at being a girl, or because I was never quite a boy, but because I wasn’t NT.  This left me a lot of free time to work out the patterns in human behaviour, the subgroups they formed and on what criteria, the politics and scheming, the tricks that worked and those that fell flat, and strategies by which I might get what I want out of any given scenario and have a laugh while I’m at it.

I don’t identify as a man.  But, I don’t identify as a woman, either.  Those are labels that encompass whole sections of society, and I do not belong in any section of society.  So gay, straight, bi, etc.  don’t apply to me either except in describing my behaviours.  They do not inform my identity.  Because I am, simply, Me. 

So when you don’t identify with either gender, and you don’t identify with any sexuality, what are you to do?

Well, the same as I do with every other attribute I possess: they become tools and toys.

Because there are advantages to be had from being either gender, and indeed, from being neither gender, and from presenting an ambiguous sexuality.

That straight-white-NT-male-entitlement means that I have always expected to be allowed to own the space I occupy.  I have placed my sizeable intellectual cock on every table in every room I have ever been in.  It lands with a thud.  When I speak, I expect to be listened to, and that expectation creates the reality…  which will never stop being fun and will always lend me power.

But I have a feminine softness, too, and that makes me unthreatening.  My aggression is like that of a mother – always ready to protect.  That is a fine line to walk, but one that yields rewards.

The power attracts a lot of women without intimidating them, it makes them feel safe.  And I like women.  I like flirting with women and sleeping with them.  I like being adored by them.  It makes me feel powerful.  And it’s fun.

That power repels a lot of men, who seem not to appreciate the softness for the virtue it is.  Those who are repelled would only bore me anyway, so that’s a time-saver.  The ones who value the softness are the ones who will chase me.  Which gives me power.  And, it’s fun when I let them catch me.

As to being neither gender, well…  I mix in professional circles populated by liberal elites all falling over themselves to prove they’re not prejudiced.  So I get less shit than I might because they’re never sure if I’m trans or gay and therefore never sure if they’re going to be accused of being a bigot if they say the wrong thing.  Which is fun.  The power dynamic in that scenario is obvious.

The world will posit of me various gender and sexuality labels.  I can pick them up and put down on a whim or as and when they are useful to me – as they never belonged to me, because if they did it would mean I belonged to those groups.

So the only label I’ve ever identified with is Autistic.  One that belongs to me, and a community I belong to, where my relationships are not just useful and fun, but meaningful and intimate.

Labels are important, but they are ours to choose and for our own reasons.  Whether tools or toys, or to put a name to some deeper part of our identities.  I would encourage everyone to adopt those labels that are assets to who they are, who they want to be, what they want to do, and where they belong. 

And whether your penis is metaphorical or otherwise, do be sure to have fun with it. 

1 Comment

  1. I guess we can be seen as a mosaic of labels with others choosing to point at that one that best suits them.  You clearly have the smarts to present the label that best suits you.  I like the confidence your awareness affords you.  A chameleon, nice one!

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