Tag Archives: distress

Routine Physical, or Utter Nightmare?

I had a physical today at the doctor’s office, with everything that being admittedly female and over the age of 18 entails. It was a disaster. Oh, everything went fine on the surface–the doctor was nice, and I seem to be healthy. I was determined to not appear squeamish or embarrassed–I’m too responsible, too sensible, too adult make a fuss over the doctor having to poke around down there. I held myself together beautifully (did I mention that I was into acting in high school?) . . . until the door closed, and I was alone.

Then, the emotions overtook me, and I was standing in the middle of the room–still in that stupid, open-backed gown–trying not to panic, trying (failing) not to cry, trying to convince myself that I shouldn’t be so upset. It was the responsible thing to do; I need to take care of my body and ensure that I’m healthy. I know that my body is female, and thus, there are just some things that need to be done. Making sure that I don’t have cancer is the smart thing to do. So why did it feel so damn awful? Continue reading

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Drag Ball Distress (a.k.a. What’s Drag for People Who Already Queer Gender?)

“All gender is drag,” Riki Wilchins writes, in an essay entitled “A Continuous Nonverbal Communication.” To a certain extent, I understand Wilchins’ argument. Sometimes I can even manage to treat clothing as nothing more than a costume, a way to play with the ways that people view me. At the same time, something like the Drag Ball that my college’s rugby team recently hosted complicates the issue. It becomes more than a matter of mere clothing—societal expectations and messages about who I am become tied up in the question of what I should wear. Suddenly, the question of what form of drag I’m going to wear to Drag Ball seems a matter of paramount significance to the overall question of my gender identity, and I feel overwhelmed and nearly incapable of deciding anything. Continue reading

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