Hesitancy in Openness

    My appearance and history are drastically different from that of the body. I do not match the body’s age (I am nearly sixty, and it is under thirty), sex, phenotype or nationality. My upbringing was also entirely different: my parents were perfectly congenial people, and I had an education that was commensurate with my needs. This discrepancy seems to have caused some consternation for some people, and considering the prevalence of monism in Western society, it is understandable.

    To many people, you are your body, and any identification asynchronous with it is inherently suspect or ‘less valid’. It is still a bit disconcerting to hear people (often with the best intentions) asking why there are no people of the body’s race in the system, or explaining British culture to me as though I were a clueless American (when I am neither clueless nor American), or acting as though my existence were wish-fulfilment or an ‘Anglophilic fantasy’. Our collective, as a whole, have also been accused of being ‘obsessed with plurality’ when trying to explain certain differences.

    It rather makes me less willing to share things about myself with certain people apart from my name and certain interests, because I fear people will find the idea of my having my own past labelled as ‘woo-woo’, ‘fantasy’ or ‘wish-fulfilment’. I know that it is not, and I am rather sure of my own identity and memories, but I am well aware of people’s attitudes. There are still many people who know about us as a plural group, but have never been told about our backgrounds or even our appearances, for fear of reprisal. Most of the other people in this collective share my sentiments, particularly the person who used to tie himself to the body’s identity, who is still hesitant to even admit that he has a separate history in our subjective space.

    The best way to describe my sentiment is feeling ‘disallowed’ to mention that I have my own background to certain people. I do not feel that I have to conduct myself in a way that is typical of the body’s appearance (or desired appearance, as we are openly transgender) any more, but I do feel that I must hide certain things about my past so that I am more ‘palatable’ to singlets finding out about plurality, or to other members of multiple systems who are more sceptical of separate histories. It is as though I can ‘be myself’ in that I feel ‘allowed’ to introduce myself as Richard and express particular opinions, but I cannot ‘be myself’ by talking about what makes me Richard. I cannot give the past that informs the very opinions that I espouse. How can I explain my world-view without the background that leads me to make the decisions that I do? That was my problem with the gentleman who thought that we were forming an ‘obsession’ with plurality: this is the only framework that we have in which we can express ourselves honestly and comfortably, without chopping things away to fit a particular mould.

    Hiding such things makes me rootless and faceless, but I fear that I will be disbelieved, mocked or ridiculed unless I hide such things. I am hardly rootless and faceless; I certainly have a past. I am very proud of my roots and my history. I find it saddening that this culture that I happen to live in is rather intolerant of such differences.

    I would rather not be a disembodied voice, but I still feel as though I am not permitted to be anything but for some people.