In defining myself I am too caught up in cause-and-effect: "I am this because I do that. I am that because I like this." It's idiotic. There is no right or wrong way to be, so why do I seek to excuse myself? I prize femininity as a way to define my gender as something other than male. Meanwhile, I'm a punk-rocker, so how do I choose to express this? A ten-inch mohican. So cliché. Naturally, such flimsy facades fail under self-examination. If I am truly to express myself then it must be something I do rather than something I wear.
The boldest way to start this process of self-examination through self-deconstruction was to chop off the mohican and replace it with a very short and very masculine haircut. Having done this I now look like my brother Matt, or rather, how Matt would look if he ever got off the couch and got his arse in shape. It'll be a strong woman who puts up with him, that or an exceptionally weak one. Fortunately, even with the boy-cut people still have trouble working out what I am. This is positive as it means that the ambiguity (in a binary sense) of my gender shines through even without the outwardly-facing ambiguity of my presentation. Reassuring to know.
I have also noticed that in trying on a genderqueer identity I have merely sought another label with which to pigeonhole myself. For a gender-warrior such as myself this attitude of complacency is utterly reprehensible. A thing I have observed as an active member of the trans community is that some people get so caught up in defining themselves that they lose sight of the way in which one's identity shows itself most clearly: when you just let yourself get lost in the moment and let everything go. This is when we truly are who we truly are. What I want now is to have as many of these moments as I possibly can. Fuck identity, fuck gender, fuck society - I want to enjoy myself!
Meanwhile, I have one last thing to check: will my short, tidy hair make me a sore thumb at a Rancid gig?