It’s me! [gender post]

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It’s been a bit since I wrote about gender.

I have been thinking about this quite a lot, especially since June is Pride Month. I have spoken a bit about it before, but while we are on the subject of gender and the like, I am mentally aligned with no gender that I know of and I am attracted to people based on who they are, not what kind of bodies they have. I am happily married to the love of my life, a man. I would not trade him or our relationship for anything. One more thing:

This is new! I have been calling myself Mago in my head for some time, and it fits. Most people who already know me will continue calling me Meg, and that’s fine with me. But if we’re meeting for the first time online, please call me Mago. It’s taking a lot of courage to go about doing this and there are a lot of inner critics screaming at me right now, but it is my hope that I will inspire someone on this journey.

I was once told that this form of self exploration goes against “who I truly am” and that I am “not being myself” when I come out and say that I am anything but what people expect me to be. I would like to pose a question to the critics, both internal and external:

How can you dictate who I am when first, you are not me, and second, I myself am still figuring that out?

The simple answer is that no, you can’t say a damn thing. You don’t have the right to since you aren’t me. Keep that in mind, friends, as you think about yourselves. Are you letting someone else tell you who you are?

I grew tired of people telling me who to be some time ago and I am just now putting it into words. I went through my teens hearing two things either through word or action: “Your emotions are inconvenient, so therefore you must have bipolar disorder and be crazy because you feel more strongly than I can handle”, and “Being anything but how you’re expected to be is madness and must mean you’re at risk of going crazy. See #1.” These expectations were unrealistic at best, cruel at worst, and they ended up having a deep effect on me. Ask yourself this: if you’re feeling more strongly than someone else can handle and you’re doing your best to live correctly, whose problem is that? I’d say that’s a them problem. Not a problem with you. Those who demand explanations as to why you are being yourself are often those who least deserve them.

Since getting out of where I grew up, I have flourished. I’m not read as a person who is crazy or at risk of it anymore. I am able to think how I want without having my ideas shot down. No longer do I have to weigh whether or not a certain feeling would cause me to be viewed as insane were it to be expressed.

This environment has fostered much thought. Some people may genuinely want to know about what my identity is, but are thrown by more modern terminology. So while it’s important to be proud of who I am, it’s also important to be able to inform people who want to know what’s going on, but may be thrown by labels that are fairly new. Some may say differently, but think about it this way – if you are teaching someone a new language, you don’t expect them to know everything already. You take them from the very beginning to more advanced concepts slowly. I have people like this in my life who are genuinely curious, but they need to hear it in their language, not ours. This doesn’t make us less of who we are, we’re seeing it from another angle. This is important if we want people to learn about us.

This is why I said what I said in the opening paragraphs instead of the newer terms agender and pansexual. If you don’t expect to educate others who want or need to know, don’t expect to be understood. People are more likely to listen if they can what I’m saying!

So what does all of this mean for me? This means that I don’t like to be referred to as “she” or “he”, but rather with the singular they, like this:

“Mago is going to the store, can you ask them if they want anything?”

Essentially, when in doubt, refer to me and people who prefer the singular they as though you don’t know our gender or are trying to keep it a secret.

I also like to wear a lot of button downs, hence the name of this blog! But that’s not horribly important, because even if you wear dresses and makeup all the time, you can still be agender within and that’s what counts.

If you fall somewhere on the glorious LGBTQ dartboard, you DO NOT HAVE TO COME OUT this Pride Month. I see a ton of “I’m [insert identity here]” posts on social media, and I so badly want to come out to the world, but I don’t yet feel safe expressing myself in that forum. I still get people who worry themselves sick on social media anytime I post anything sad! Please use your best judgment and stay safe.

I love all y’all. God and the universe love you, too.



To Be Happy (And Sad)

Hello, friends!

In the same vein as yesterday, I would like to pose a question:

Is it possible to be happy and sad at the same time?

To me, at least, the answer is yes.

I watched this TED talk

by Emily Esfahani Smith when I came here to Alaska and it blew my mind. I had struggled up to that point on that trip and with my concept of happiness as a whole because that trip wasn’t an extended period of happiness. It was hard at times, it had bumps.

After talking to my husband, however, he explained that long stretches of happiness aren’t normal and that it’s possible to find happiness in moments, not just in long stretches. These moments are to be cherished as much as the long periods. That blew my mind, and that was one of the beginning steps towards the unraveling of the old normal that I experienced back in Texas. It goes perfectly with the TED talk.

The overall message I took away from the talk is that happiness is fleeting, but meaning will sustain me when times get hard and I won’t feel as lost. That talk was a gift from the universe/God right there. It came to me at the exact right time, right when I needed it. It’s gifts like this that give my life a sense of meaning. I said in the previous post that there are things that come to me exactly when I need them. I’ll give them a name – spiritual love notes. They make up the core of my belief that there is a plan for everything. This also helps give my life a sense of meaning.

Perhaps my happiness-throughout-sadness is me finding meaning in my life. I hope I can bring meaning to the lives of others, too. These little loving synchronicities are proof to me that everything is here for a purpose and that God is in everything. My husband is my biggest source of meaning. Writing is a close second, my friends and students are third.

I find happiness throughout sadness – and vice versa – throughout my days. Tutoring has slowed way down as summer break arrives for those in the United States. School is out for kids in my town already, and I have far too much time on my hands. I will spend more time on writing, definitely.

Happiness has taken me completely by surprise, and there are still smatterings of darkness. I don’t think they should be eliminated, but they should be managed and noted.

I’m currently in a sad spot, but I’m writing to manage it. I feel better. This blog is a gift and a godsend. So are the people in my life. I’m glad that I don’t confuse happiness for mania anymore and can start to recognize it for what it is.

Maybe this is what everyone was talking about when they spoke about contentment – that calm assurance. Maybe that’s what I feel when I recognize meaning in my life. That would be awesome.

Go watch the talk! I’ll be around.

Love, Meg

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Live in Color

I might start just writing in verse every Thursday. Verse Thursday.


Starting new is the strangest

thing –

double spaced becomes something

different to me

“we won’t have to be scared”

is that really a quote, or

something closer to something

everyone screams in their lifetime?

everything revolved around college

for a time –

how’s it going?

people would ask and i would frown

wishing they would be quiet and

leave me be for once

but now things are different

i wish i had read more about

attrition rates before even going

all of my friends are graduating

and while i don’t feel left behind,

it’s something like that.


here comes the rain –

it’s something we expect but aren’t

hoping for

I trust the sky a bit too much

I don’t trust the ground

I’m too afraid of it falling out from

underneath me

why am i living in the same color

green as Alaska in spring?

why is everything blooming?

if there’s spring in a place that most

would deem unfit to have one

why can’t there be spring in me?

am i forbidden from blooming?

must i understand the happiness

within me?

I wish I could help the people who

need to bloom.

my husband is in his jail of an office

doing far too much tech support work

than any human should.

he’s a bud who has been in the dark

for too long

and he needs to come into the light.


I am neon pink

coming from black and white

I don’t deserve to be shot in grays

I need to live aloud,

live in color