I’ve never been too hung up on labels, mostly because there are so few that stick properly to me, not to mention the fact that most adhesives give me a nasty rash. I can’t even tolerate a cheap band-aid.
Four decades of straddling the gender fence has taught me many things. I have learned to tolerate being called things that I really am not.
I have come to an uneasy truce with the fact that there are not really enough gender pronouns, boxes on government forms or safe bathroom stalls for people like myself.
Ivan Coyote on gender pronouns earlier today: