I found this picture while I was tumbling through tumblr and it made me think. About the true nature of sirens, and asexuality, and the benefits of being, if not genderqueer, then at least nonbinary. I slot into the feminist-socialist-fangirl-activist section of tumblr, so I often see things that are designed to bring my attention to the fact that there aren’t just two anythings, ever. There’s more than two genders. There’s more than two sexualities. There’s even varieties on romance. Everything that we’re taught to assume is black or white (you’re either a man or a woman, gay or straight) or a given (everybody wants sex and romance, right? everybody wants to find their true love!) is, at best, a mistruth. At worst, it’s a lie, but the desperately sad thing is that it’s been so long since difference was celebrated and respected that we simply don’t know how to do it anymore. We don’t believe in magic, and so instead of difference being exciting and awe-inspiring, it’s simply terrifying.
I struggle with difference. I struggle with incorporating it into my everyday life, the way I’m expected to, and I feel guilty every time that nasty little thought (I just wish things were normal. Easy) slips into my head. I’m trying, I really am, but when something rocks your worldview, it can take a lot to restore equilibrium.
Which is not for lack of trying. I try, every day, to see the world as it is, not as I want it to be. Sometimes I feel as if I have Mad-Eye Moody in my head going “Constant vigilance!” and glaring at me a lot of the time, but I do try.