Some months ago, it began. One of my relatives found me on Facebook. Since then, I've accepted friend requests from any blood relation who added me, yet our interaction in both digital and physical life has been minimal.
I briefly wondered, worried even, about some of the things I routinely posted on subjects that openly discussed what my family has already known about me, but never addressed directly since I left home. I passively waited for some Wall Post asking questions…or something. I write "passively", but in truth, I'd actively disengaged myself years ago.
Somewhere in the decade of my estrangement, something shifted. I'm not entirely sure what. But, I'm grateful for it. I love my family. I think of them more often than they could ever know. I haven't consciously needed them, but upon our reacquaintance, I'm moved by their addition to my current life.
I look forward to revisiting old familial bonds with the freedom I now possess; I want nothing from my family, and I'm excited by all they have to offer. When I released my desire for the Norman Rockwell family mythos I'd yearned for, it opened me up, freed me from grasping and shifted my focus to what was already in my hands.
I am surrounded by love. Through great trial and tribulation, my concept of family has broadened to include folks who simply share my species, my beliefs, if not my blood. And, that is enough. Yet, I'm open to so much more. There's room at the table for everyone.
My youngest aunt sent out a mass email to her contact list, informing family and friends of a new addition to their communication circle. My favorite cousin replied, adding my name to the list. She used my old name.
I decided on a brief note, reminding her of my name change, and that details would be forthcoming if she wanted them. She did! What follows is my response:
Sonya,
Details (the short version): I no longer identify as a man. I'm happily male-bodied with no desire to change my sex. However, I tired of the constrictive gender binary system and sought to remove myself from it. Hence, the gender neutral "Lark". I spent too many years and tears trying to live up to identities I hadn't (at the time) realized I'd never chosen in the first place.
In opting out of manhood, I embraced personhood. Who was I? Who did I want to be without concern of being too feminine/masculine, white/black, gay/straight, and countless other dichotomies? I enjoy the freedom from these boundaries. It's allowed me to thoroughly examine how to be the best person I can be, on my terms, and no one else's.
You're welcome to forward this message to anyone you'd like, if you'd like. No obligations.
Be well,
Lark
