You can call me… Sabien.
I identify as… Genderqueer, with pressured specifics such as; transmasculine, T-boy, boidyke, androgyne, and FTM.
As far as third-person pronouns go, … He, Him, His. I have tolerated and accepted feminine pronouns for most of my young life, but I am no longer comfortable with them. In ways, this makes me sad.
I’m attracted to… Anomalies, genderqueer folk, fluiders, agenders, transpeople, oddballs, individuals, and brains. Chromosomal sex has no meaning to me.
I also like nice shoes, alternative haircuts, and white ford cargo vans filled with promises of candy and carnivals.
When people talk about me, I want them to… Speak about things that matter, and issues that relate to them, and not to pass judgments nobody has the right to make on another person. There is an explicit difference between expressing your opinion and disagreeing, and saying “You’re wrong; I’m right.”
I want people to understand… That although I am transgendered, it is only one part among many, and there is so much more as a whole, complex person and functional individual than my gender variance, which nonetheless should be given the same amount of respect as every other unique part of my person.
About Sabien
Sapient of assorted features and discrepancies. Roughly 5’4”, disjointed ectomorphic figure, pixiecut Havok aquamarine hair, sunken eyes, stereotypic fidget. Bad with shoelaces. Refined sugar and milk chocolate addiction. Gemini, Aquarius rising. Takes disco and acid-funk with his tea.
Is frequently glimpsed in fridges, musty larders, crawl-spaces, and innocuous looking shrubs. Keep children, pets, and valuable lawn furniture away from the reclusive venom-frothing (yet gloweringly provocative) horror from Saturn’s Janus ring.
Thank you for your kind attention.
