The Week in Non-binary 4

Back once again with the ill behaviour

Another week rolls around. So where were my adventures in non-binary this time? Well, there were the usual workouts in the finest Tikiboo leggings, obviously. However, this was the week of my monthly comedy night too.

I've continued wearing my hair down for work after the recent bombshell (though as a bombshell, it was actually more of a damp squib). I usually try and style it fairly gender-neutral, but we all know I'd rather go full bouffant, though this doesn't really fit with my usual boy-lite casual style of chinos and open-necked shirt with a subtle pattern. I mean, it's fairly low key but is undoubtedly masc. As an aside, this in itself is becoming an issue. Not that I object to presenting like this per se, it's how I've presented at work for 20 years or so. No, the issue is that these clothes are getting quite old and need to be replaced but I'm now finding that I resent buying boy clothes. My ageing trousers, particularly, have holes in many of the pockets. Now, last post I lamented the fact that the pair of girl chinos I bought had lousy pockets, but at least they are intact and I didn't find my phone slithering down my leg because it had fallen through a gaping hole in the pocket I'd been keeping it in. When I went out Christmas shopping last year, I'd worn leggings and was presenting very androgynously but found I was assumed to be female. Emboldened by being miss-gendered, I tried some clothes in M&S including a lovely velvet dress I had absolutely no intention of buying (see pic below), merely because I could, but also tried a pair of ankle-grazer trousers which fitted so well and actually had great pockets. I decided not to buy them at the time, but they are a great possibility for work trews going forward. It's difficult though. Would they look too girly? The point is, I'm trying to gradually pivot so my presentation at work nudges a little more towards the femme, but the operative word is "gradually", like boiling a frog in a pan by heating the water slowly. I suppose it's like in a martial art (and I'm in no way an expert on this subject) where you subtly shift your body weight and stance just enough to change how you front up to your opponent. It's a really difficult balance for me because I'm not trying to transition, only be more androgynous. Then again, maybe that's the gateway drug: start being a bit androgynous, then progress to a skirt, then next thing you know, you're all heels, tights and false lashes. I admit I'm not averse to that development, but it's not really practical on so many levels, and, unlike for many of my trans-sisters, it's not an imperative.

The dress was probably a bit too much I'd nowhere to wear it anyway. The leggings weren't a great match either

Anyway, this week it was the usual array of leggings. My gym routine is fairly standard right now: Sunday: Body Combat (60 mins)

Monday: Boxing Training (45 mins) Tuesday: Clubbercise (45 mins)

Wednesday Body Combat (60 mins)

Thursday Body Combat (45 mins)

Friday: Rest

Saturday: Spin (45 mins)

So I'm fitting in 6 sessions most weeks

Sunday morning after Body Combat

This week I mssed Tuesday (comedy night) and Wednesday (family crisis) but I did do an extra class put on on Sunday by our BC instructor was training in. I like my classes. I'm accepted in the way I present, but most classes are mainly attended by women so I'm just one of the girls. Except Monday. Monday's a bit different. For a start there are more men. My training partner has changed a bit over the time I've done this class. I'm currently partnering with a woman who is the same size as me and I think we work well together. I was training with a guy before this who is of a similar power and technique and who always gave me a serious beasting. On balance, I prefer working with my girl pal. She works me (and I work her) hard and there's no macho bullshit involved, and, god damn it, yes I like feeling like we're two girls working out which gives me a bit of warm euphoria. I do wonder what goes through the minds of the guys in the class though, seeing me with my leggings, my femme top and my long red hair tied back. All this and I'd still kick their proverbial rears in training. Imagine having your arse handed to you in an exercise class by a petite, ginger, transy enby in fab leggings.

This enby will kick your arse in Boxing Training class Tiki Poison Frog leggings FTW

So the comedy night happened too. I started presenting androgynously for comedy when I realsed I was enby and which was also after the pandemic. I've continued to do that, though my presentation has been getting increasingly feminine. I started off with skinny jeans and femme tops, I've progressed to femme shorts (still my favourite look as it's a bit tom-boyish which fits with my androgynous aspirations), then to skirts, or the occasional dress. So it was this week. I wore a new skirt from Next that I'd bought on the foray there I mentioned in the last post, plus a Bowie Rebel T-shirt, white Vans and Midwinter tights in Suffragette Purple from Snag. The hosiery was quite flamboyant, but this is an outcome of having been radicalised by Snags, in the best possible way.

The night went quite well, despite a third of the acts I'd booked having to duck out due to the shit-show that is the UK train network. We also didn't really have an audience due to it being a cold, dark Tuesday night in Wakefield and it pissing down. I headed out to another bar with my girl pal afterwards for a night cap too. There are very few places open beyond 11pm on Tuesday night in town. In fact there are two, and we often head to one or the other. We went to a real ale place called Harry's Bar and both enjoyed a pint of cherry-flavoured cider. OK, that's not especially interesting, but what is interesting was that a woman I used to work with came in, along with her son (who also worked at the same place) and her husband. Obviously I looked quite different from when she last saw me (quite a few years ago) so neither of them tagged me, but it was the first time I'd encountered anyone outside of the comedy community I know when I was presenting femme. I hadn't raised an eyebrow in the bar, so just blended into the background as the quiet ginger woman sat with the slightly loud American woman.

Otherwise, I'm still wrestling with the dilemma of whether I should present fully femme or just push the non-binary envelope at my work's Christmas party, which, let's be honest, given my height, slight build and generally androgynous features, would see me read as female anyway. I did something similar at a comedy gig one Saturday night a year or so ago and almost gave two older guys an aneurism as I emerged from the cubicle in the men's toilet because they thought some woman had come into the wrong toilet. One of my better miss-genders, I must admit. Funnily enough, the toilet was in the bar I'd gone for a drink in after the comedy night I mentioned above.

Obviously, the tune for this post has to be Rebel Rebel by David Bowie for my T-shirt from the comedy night, which I bought purely on the basis of the line "You've got you mother in a whirl. She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl". I mean, your Mum would generally know if you're a boty or a girl, but it would make mine have kittens if she saw me en femme, though I kind of see the appeal of that development.