Infinite Ways to Be
By: Klipsun Magazine
Tags: Nonbinary, LGBTQ, Klipsunwinter2021, History, Jax Kiel

A collection of open letters to my family and myself that show my experience being nonbinary in a binary culture

By Jax Kiel

Note: The author wrote this article while still in the process of finding the name “Jax.” The byline has been changed, but the article has not been edited.

Jax, as a baby. Photo courtesy of Jax Kiel

Mom,

While you were pregnant with me, a mother on Meg’s soccer team told you to pick out an androgynous name for me in case I didn’t want a “girly girl” name. You told me her daughter’s name was Alex. You wanted to choose a name like Stella or Isabella because you liked the way they sounded, but you got her point. After that, you started looking for androgynous names.

Meg,

I was always told you were the one who came up with my name. When I was younger, I imagined you, Samantha and Dad standing around me in the hospital room. My mom would have been exhausted and crying, her face as red as the newborn she was holding. Everything else in my imagination is bright, white and blinding.In this version, you shouted, “Jordan,” as if it were a eureka moment. Later, I learned you came up with it in the car on the way home from our uncle’s.

It was just a name you liked that was androgynous.

In this version, you shouted, “Jordan,” as if it were a eureka moment. Later, I learned you came up with it in the car on the way home from our uncle’s.

Mom,

You didn’t give me the name of a little girl, but it is still the name that belonged to a little girl. It always will be.

A genderless name wasn’t enough. It’s too late to raise me differently, but other parents have the chance. Egalia, a preschool in Sweden proved the benefit of taking away gender expectations on young children. Egalia’s teachers don’t use the pronouns “him” or “her” and instead call all the students “friends” or uses the gender-neutral pronoun “hen,” which is borrowed from Finnish and is also used in some queer and feminist communities.

I honestly can’t imagine what it would be like to be raised outside of the gender binary. Again, I don’t blame you. You did the best you could with the information you had.

Meg,

Thank you for the name. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, because I really am grateful. It wouldn’t have mattered what name you yelled in that eureka moment or casually suggested from the backseat. An androgynous name can’t overcome the associations of femininity and feelings of dysphoria. That name will always belong to the “girl” who slouched every day to hide the chest she didn’t want. But Jordan was a good one.

Mom,

I know you will always love me, that is not the issue. The issue is loving myself. Loving my name. Loving the way it sounds when it falls from the lips of those closest to me.

Samantha,

When you were trying to rename yourself, how did you find the name Samantha? Did it come to you and just feel right? I asked you these questions and you said you weren’t sure. You said you were still looking and trying things out. That’s one thing we have in common. In a way, this mutual struggle of gender dysphoria, finding a new name and transitioning has brought us closer as siblings. I opened up to you and told you I was trying to find myself, and you said something beautiful:

Definition of gender dysphoria provided by the American Psychiatric Association. Graphic by Jax Kiel.

“I like to think of gender and sexuality as our own set of coordinates in an infinitely large dimensional space.”

You said we find clusters of identities that are similar and create names for them — lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary — but no two people’s identities are the same.

You said, “We all live differently and there are infinite ways we can be.”

Oliver,

I tried you on in high school, but you fit about as well as the feminine clothes I dressed myself in. I wanted you to fit, but in my head you are a boy’s name. I know there is no such thing — names don’t have gender — but I can’t control my associations.

Researchers who study relationships between individuals argue that names classify things and carry meaning, according to sociologist Kathy Charmazan in her article “The Power of Names”. They say names bring people together while also furthering social divides, and with the categorization of names comes expectations.

The name Oliver would’ve classified me as a boy, causing expectations for me to act and present like a boy. I am a boy no more than I am a girl.

Dad,

You gave me the only nickname that has stuck, and I thank you for that. “J” was comfortable and casual. “J” reminds me of going to job sites with you, watching football on Sundays and driving to my soccer games.

Jax and their dad. Photo courtesy of Jax Kiel

But “J” also reminds me of trying desperately to fit in with the boys who would grow up to be high school jocks. At the time, I thought I liked some of them. Now I think I just wanted to be like them. I tried to make “J” my name, but it’s not.

Samantha,

You’ve helped me along my journey, and I hope I’ve helped you. You pointed me to the Gender Justice League, which has resources for trans and non-binary people. We talk about how important representation is in media and share our favorite queer cartoons: “She-Ra and the Princesses of Power,” “The Owl House” and “Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts.” We also talk about how confusing gender is and how neither of us think anyone really has it figured out. And Samantha, I hope you know that seeing you be yourself inspires me to do the same thing.

Jordan,

You are the girl I thought I was. The girl I convinced myself I could be. You are the girl who was told she’d be prettier if she stood up straight but hated the way she looked standing up straight. The girl who didn’t understand why she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and wished that she saw something different. Jordan is lost. Jordan is dead. But I am not. I still stand in front of the mirror sometimes, but then I put a binder on and a baggy shirt, and I stand up straight because I want to, not because I am told to.

You said, “We all live differently and there are infinite ways we can be.”

Definition of deadname provided by Merriam-Webster Dictionary. Graphic by Jax Kiel.

To others who have been named the wrong name,

You may feel lost right now, but you will find yourself. Give it a chance. Talk to people, whether they are a supportive sibling like Samantha or someone you find through the community programs at Western’s Queer Resource Center. There are organizations dedicated to trans and non-binary people, like Ingersoll Gender Center which can refer you to a therapist or medical transition professional, and also offers weekly support groups. It’s OK if you don’t know your name yet — I don’t know mine either.