Masculin, féminin: the act of me

Hannah, you are out. You have been named.

It’s okay that you cried in front of your whole family during your uncle’s wedding photo, tears which probably appeared to be for no reason. It’s okay when you don’t cry for months because you’re tough and don’t want to put your female embodied emotions on display. You’re so tough, boys enjoy your company because you can hold your whiskey as well as any of them but those nights when you can’t, you are comforted by their displays of masculinity that signify the difference between you and them.

When you cut your hair and some people asked you if you lost any of your strength, you wonder why they are likening you to King Solomon. By cutting your hair, did you gain or lose femininity? When you shaved your entire head in high school, where you any more or less you by doing so? You realize that others view you on your outward appearance and are willing to adjust accordingly in reinventing yourself because no matter how hard you try, you the subject is part of your identity.

Your grandmother once wrote you, “Hannah, be you. Be you…intensely.” So you keep this in mind while performing self, remembering that it’s a man’s world but it’s nothing without you in it. You are the lead role in your life’s story. When you become disillusioned with civilization, remember you are part of it. Remember just as society places subjectivity on you, you do so on others. Remember that without an audience or being audienced, there is no you. But remember as long as you are you, do so with intensity.