(i am a “feminine” creature. i like my pretty things. i like hoop earrings and thick eyeliner. i like crop tops and low rise jeans. half my clothes barely fit me. but my femineity is not defined by material things. i am a feminine creature. a delicate spirit. i desire security. i am sensitive to feelings. i am over endearing to my friends and gave them all sweet nicknames. but my femineity isnt defined by my personality. i am a feminine creature. i dont respond to aggression. i dont feel violent in nature. i am never the first to pick a fight. but my femineity isnt defined by a lack of masculinity. my exposure to switch halloween showed me that “femininity” doesn’t mean much of anything. my femineity doesn’t define my gender. no stereotype will define my sex. am i a man? or am i simply a creature?)

april 16th, 2022

my introduction to switch party was unexpected. nearly a year ago i first heard of the event when a close friend of mine stumbled upon an advertisement for the first ever switch party being held in Vancouver. the event was promoted as an “all-new all-gender pleasure revolution” with a dense list of dj’s, dancers and “performers”. the hazy description was a factor in my friend Britton excitement, who expressed to me that they were not completely sure what the event was describing. the promotion also detailed a wrist band system which was organized in colors of green, yellow, blue and red. this wrist band system gave more clarity on the tone of the evening. the red wrist band was labeled as “having a solo night,” the blue was for those “feeling social/flirty, but no touching.” the next two wristbands were more accepting of physical romances. yellow being labeled as “feeling flirty, possibility for intimacy. green was bold in its explanation, labeled as “feeling horny, looking to hookup.” through looking at the advertisements on the screen on Britton’s phone i feel i better understood their excitement for the event. for sure their was a draw of possible sexual adventures. their was also the draw of a unique experience and stimulating atmosphere to explore. in showing me the advertisement Britton must have been aware of my personal indulgence in seeking out memorable experiences. i always appreciated them for their spontaneity and planning of adventures to get us out and exploring this world. i owe Britton for many of the unique things i have seen in the last year and a half.

 

however i didn’t think i would be able to be in attendance to switch party. this was to my disappointment. the adventure described sounded like an unrepeatable memory. i was aware that whatever stories they may share wont allow me to fully imagine the moment. as much as a learning experience i felt it could be, i was not confident in how comfortable i would be in that space. anxiety was present. as i cant define myself as part of the LGBTQ+ community, and i was not sure if would be accepted in that space. anxiety was present as i felt my attendance may be intrusive in some way. 

 

(my understanding of sexuality has been a formative process in the life. my understanding of gender ambiguity and cross dressing also came much later than my exposure to the idea. sometime ago, when i was younger than i am currently, my older sister thought it was hilarious when i would dress up in her clothes. as a younger sibling, this made me feel loved through the gratification of making her laugh. i distinctly remember putting on a tutu and performing something of a fashion show for my sister and her friends. i even did something of a dance choregraphed to a taylor swift song, stealing the oversexualized dance moves from my sisters cheerleading team. her and her friends thought it was hysterical and i was in love with the validation i received. in grade school i wore my own clothes, but would sometimes express myself femininely. i often dress in clothes that our culture would define as feminine. i also wear just as much of if not more clothes that our culture would define as masculine. wearing crop tops with leather jackets. skirts with thick black boots. i had long black hair, and in public with my mom i would sometimes be mistaken as her daughter. i have distinct memories of being acknowledged as ‘ladies” when in department stores with my mom and sister. my personality was often was perceived as fitting of stereyotypes of a queer man. i was softspoken, and shy but flamboyant and confident when with those i have secure relationships with. i would feel defensive when my peers question my sexuality. i was hurt when those around me called me gay, without having any real understanding what the word meant. somehow i always felt being upset wasnt justified because i couldnt blame them if i fit the idea in their heads for what it looks like for a boy to like other boys. all of my life i have defined myself as heterosexual. a boy who likes girls. i put myself in that box. i gave myself that strict of a label. i felt confident in that definition of myself, as i internally recognized the attraction i felt to people of the opposite sex. )

my anxiety in attending the first switch party was coming from a place of insecurity in my own identity. do i feel confident in my own sexuality? do i feel confident in my own expression of femininity? do i dress in the way i do because it is fulfilling? or is my appearance an extension of the need for attention from those around me? even in my current place of understanding of how authentic queerness is in this reality, do i still treat this identity as a joke? am i a fraud for dressing in such a way and being “feminine” in my personality if i am not actually gay? i feared that my personality would come across as a costume in that space. as i fit all the stereotypes for being a queer person, but have only been intimate with those of the opposite gender.

on the night of the first switch party, i decided i wasn’t going to go. a creature of insecurity, only to live by what i am “supposed to be.” stuck in the shoes i always wear. scared anything else will be seen as a costume. 

my friends Britton, Jenna, ***** and ***** left to switch vancouver around 9 pm. fear of perception kept me from joining their presence. around the same time of night i decided instead to attend a heavy metal show on the east side of Vancouver. my vibrations fulfilling something of the violence masculine energy seems to prescribe too. squishing myself into the algorithm of what i am supposed to be.

punk kids in the heavy metal attire of thick leather boots and dark eyeliner wandered in clusters of cigarette smoke in the alley outside the venue. each individual a speck of glitter against the shade of the night around us. an expression of real personality in a comfortable space.

local bands crystal coffin, worse, mvlgrave and dissemination performed that night. the brutality of the crowd grew in a natural progression over the course of the show. inspired by the heavy bass rifts of mvlgrave and the aura of ferocity dissemination presents, by the last two sets of the night the audience had escalated into chaos. high flexible kicks stomped across the venue space to every crash of the music. a display of macho energy was present in every thrashing movement, threatening in its stumbled and disoriented nature. the whole of the crowd seemed conscious as a creature. rising and falling in energy, in life. each individual looking after the next through the storm. between sets the kids would rush back outside to enjoy the chatter of conversation between ciggarett pufs. growing the bonds of friendship between the firecness of storms.

the rage of dancing in the moshpit of heavy metal shows is a thrill of thoughtlessness. i feel in this place all anxiety slips off my conscious. all is balanced in the bizarreness of movement and music.

my existence has become a consistency in the vancouver punk rock scene. generally faces recognize me, and this night i was lucky to meet up with my beloved friends Janelle and Eric at the show. loosing ourselves in such an aggressive way is inspired by being comfortable with those around you. through the chaos of these shows is a base of compassion, where everyone works to allow those around them to have a safe space to materialize their inner madness.

halfway through the dissemination show a display of behavior broke the compassionate understanding. a thinly framed punk kid sipping a beer on the edge of the moshpit accidnetally spilled some of his drink on the spinning body of a older man in front of him. gernally it is considered “not cool” to have a drink in the mosh for this particualr reason. however, instead of responding respectfully, the older man drunkinly headbutted the kid in the teeth. 

Eric turned to me 

“did you see that?” 

he was stern in his posture towards me

the ragefull vibrations around us seem to be consumed by the holes in his eyes, and the act at hand provided a release of these feeling

“we need to fuck this guy up” 

i immidaitly admired his protective instincts. inspired by the backdrop of thrashing metal music and his own heavy presence. i admired that he was willing to put himself at such risk on behalf of this kid.

however, i did not have the same confidence in my temper. 

“before we do anything we should check to see if he is ok” 

just as a way to difuse us from the scene, i was able to convice e*** to follow the kid outside of the venue with his friends. 

pushing through the rage of our surroundings, we met outside where some of the kids friends were finding tissues to stop the bleeding from his mouth. 

 “are his teeth still in?” 

“ya but he seems pretty messed up, what was that guy doing, who is that?”

“he’s complety lost it we gotta take him out of here”

“what you mean” 

“we gotta mess him up in there bud”

“it will just escualte man” 

“thats so fucked cant let him get away with it” 

“we dont want to spoil the venue dude. im with you but this just isnt the time.”

“shows almost over anyway”

Janelle came outside to meet up and encouraged Eric that we should leave the show before emotions boil over too far. the three of us quickly departed saying nothing of goodbye. 

sitting on the curb with them a block or so from the venue was a rush of new found calmness. the greyness of the night had crept in on us, wary after the thrilling display of agresion.

i felt my phone ringing in my pocked, it felt distant from the present moment, but i checked it to see Britton calling.

“heyy luv are you having fun?”

“yaa i am here with Jenna we miss you, how was the bullet farm show?” 

“things got crazy and we had a little incident and had to leave, i think we are going home here in a minute” 

“omg im happy i called! they are doing a second wave of door tickets at 1 am if you want to come join us!”

“awe um thanks gorgeous that does seem cool” 

“we are having so much fun, even just to come check it out we would love to see ya” 

“okkk i am going to check in with Eric and Janelle to see what they are doing and ill keep up with you””

“alrighty hope to see ya” 

“have a goodnight darling” 

“peace” 

Britton had given me a second chance to explore switch vancouver. it was about midnight now. i could walk to the location of switch party at the warehouse location by 1 am. Eric and Janelle decided it was time for them go home. Eric had grown tired following the madness of the show. i was feeling curious of where my night could go. i was feeling peace in my sense of self. all this anxiety over wearing a costume seemed overplayed. overstressed. i am confident in my self by being completly myself. i decided to wander through the night to switch vancouver. 

the hazynees of the evening cleared space in my head. the walk gave me an external feeling of moving forward running parallel to my internal expression of adventure. chain smoking cigaretts through everystep the greynees of the everything was ingested into my spirit. i felt dreary yet inspired. in between storms and given a chance to think.

why am i worried about how people will see me? why am i stressed about who they think i am? why do i feel the need to be someone i am not? what is masculinity? what is feminiety? why do these words carry so much power in how we see one another?

i felt loose in my awareness that the terms meant nothing to me. i am not tied to any definition, any standards. free to by myself completely.

arriving at the warehouse where switch party was taken place i found myself aware i was arriving in the middle of something. people were bustiling in and out of the venue to smoke, and the swinging doors blasted a peak of techno music. only the parking lot, full of cars which will likely spend the night there, was between me and the venue. with over twenty minutes until i was able to get a 1 am ticket, i decided to cut through the parking lot to sit on a curb by a small patch of grass on the corner. there i began rolling myself a joint when two characters broke into my sight.

a person in pink tights and a security vest stumbled into my sight, dragging behind them someone lost of concious in a thick black trenchcoat. 

the person in the trenchcoat started throwing up as security vest tried to roll them over to stop the vomit from falling back on their chest. 

after a moment trench coat coallapsed and layed back into the grass. security vest began asking questions. 

“did you take anything else?” 

“have you just been drinking?” 

“where are your friends?” 

“did you come her alone?” 

trenchcoat only responded in a series of grunts and mumbles

for the next minuete or two security vest continued asking the same question of 

“what is your name?” 

trenchaot seemed concious of the question they were being asked, but held their responnse

in this moment i became aware of my own presnece in the scene and asked security vest 

“are you involved with the event?” 

“ya i am with the venue i volunteer as a sober buddy, they are having a special sort of night inside”

“i heard! are they going to be ok?” refering to the trenchcoat

“ya he seems just to be drunk. we just need to find his friends, people need to look out for each other better then this”

“ya that’s really sad they left him alone out here, youre a good person for keeping an eye on them”

“he wont tell me who he is so we dont have any way of figuring out who he is friends with”

trenchcoat began mumbiling again and started sitting up

security vest turned to me and asked 

“do you think you could help me carry him over to the door so when people leave someone might recognize him?” 

i agreed hestiantly, but acted as if i was happy to give a hand, smiling at security vest

we threw trenchcoat over our shoulder and began, marching towrards the venue. i was carrying the legs which i was content with becasue i figured there was less of a chance of being thrown up on. 

walking up to the swinging doors a face wearing bunny ears and glitter eyeliner came out of the depths of the tecno and reconzied trenchcoat. 

“omg is he okay, thanks for looking after him” 

security vest was obviously irritated and simply responed “take care of your friends” 

i figured it was time for me to check out this switch vancouver thing already 

with it being almost 1:00 i entered the venue

techno music gave me immeiate stimukation as a tried to show my id to the bouncer. although a big knarly dude, this bouncer had a delicate kindess to him that seemed understnding of my struggle to get my id out of my wallet. i then went around the corner to by a ticket.

the crowd of people were radiating from behind the ticket counter, i was too distracted to hear the lady asking me which color wrist band i wanted. 

“hey you need to pick out a wrist band”

“are you coming in? what wrist band you want?”

“oh sorry” i snapped back to what was in front of me

“ill get the yellow, feeling flirty” 

she slipped on my wrist band and put stickers on the cameras on my phones, telling me it was to protect the privacy of everyone this evening. i was then free to roam into the mouth of switch vancouver

there was not a costume in sight

tonight everyone was dressed as themselves

glitter, glam, leather, sex 

skin tight clothes or no clothing at all

all was peace in comfortability 

i looked down to realize that i was the only one out of place

wearing what i wore to the bullet farm show, i had on my faded true religion jeans and a sweatty cut up beige t shirt under a brown leather jacket. my long curls were hiden in a tied up bandana.

in my attempt to fit the algotrhym of the the masculine energy of punk shows, i realized i wasnt dressed as myself

in my anxiety of wearing a costume, i rejected the internal realizations of who i really am

but this realizization didnt bring anxiety. rather it was a breath of fresh air to now have the freedom to grow in the direction i feel as trurely as myself. it is ok to wear all the pretty things when i want to

two massive screens on the wall of the warehouse played video of a man being pegged by a transwoman with large bold letter stating “you are trans” rang over the performance

i walked through the crowd of authintic sexuality to the stage. all those walking around me felt confidence in every step, as if the warehouse its self was a catwalk. with the best of my ability i tried to walk with the same stride of confidence to find Britton and my friends. 

this is the moment i came to realize that i wasnt sure if i had even let Britton know that i was on my way to switch. not sure if i would be lucky enough to find them, or if they were even still present. 

i hid on the side of the venue, taking in the scene of people dancing to the extravagent whale of techno music. free as can be in this space. 

lost in overstimulation of bright lights, music and movement my eyes glazed over the crowd of people and the dancers performing on stage

i felt a presence behind me and turned to see Britton smiling 

they seemed to have expected my arrival, but were estatic to see me which made be feel a sense of belonging. im not sure if i told them i was coming, but Britton knew i would come anyway. 

“are you having fun luv?” i asked curiously

“yaa i just left the playroom! you will have to check it out” 

when hearing the word “playroom” i somehow imagined a bouncy castle or something of the tunnels and slides sort of playground they used to have for kids in mcdonalds 

in my conciouss awarnees though, i knew this wasn’t what they were talking about. 

Britton continued to tell me that they had a threesome, but were having trouble statying sexually active due to the molly they had taken. 

among the crash of faboulous around us Britton was giving of an aura of exicment that was simply contatgious. 

i told them i would be dancing for the time being, and they were welcome to join me if they needed a beak from their playroom adventures

we began to stride into the mosh of people dancing when i thought to ask about our other friend who was here in the crowd somewhere. 

“where’s Jenna?” 

“Jenna is probably still in the play room, and our friends ****** and ****** are here as well!” 

with resounding timing, Jenna apreared from the masses wearing only a pair of black undies

the absurdity of evreything was profoudnigly comfortable. and the three of us made our way to dance. 

the vibrations of dancing, shaking hips here were paraell but directly ooposite of those at the punk show from earlier. i felt the same sense of release, compelte thoughtlessness in every movement. complete fluidity of every motion. however, in this place i felt more tranquil in the “feminen” feelings i had been so anxious about. “feminimn” is never the right word to use. as i felt myself. delicate yet assertive yet confident. not a blink of hessitance. not a blink of anxierty over wearing a costume. dancing as myself with the company of two of my closest friends is as meditative as can be. all is sex sex sex sexy. i can see clearly now, that i can be myself, without definining myself. 

the performances on stage would momentarly steal my attetnion from the blur of movement. strippers, dancers, the performeras needed no title. 

one creature of the stage inspired my favoritism, as they looked like someone i could grow to be. an assurtive figure with long hair tied up in a pair of space buns. a school girl outfit fit snug over a field of faboulous body hair. the character was dancing on stage with the fiture of a powerful black woman. and the two of them began seductivly feeding each other ice cream. they were iconic in my eyes. the bravo and flitarious dyanmic was hypontisizing. such a display of unadultered sexual passion. without even the slightest strip tease. the character i felt could be me ten years from now bent down to let those in front put money in their skirt. and the perforamce ended aburuptly. 

the talent is in the confidence. the talent is in the authinticity. and i was in awe. 

Britton brieftly broke my starstuck episode by asking

“were they eating poop?”

“i think it was ice cream” 

“i hope it was ice cream” 

“hot as fuck either way” 

we took a break from the thrill of dancing, Britton and Jenna were looking to explore more of the playroom. i told them i would find them, and went to get myself a drink. 

the bar lined most of the length of the building, and it was pretty quick getting someone to take my order. i even saw the schoolgirl outfit performer serving drinks farther down the stretch. the drinks were pretty expensive, i beleive it was around the $16-$17 range. i got the special which was a cheaper opition, but cant for the life of me rememebr what the drink was. it was good though, becasue somehow i managed the confidence to check out the playroom scene before i leave. 

to speak from the truth i wasn’t motivated by the possibility of sexual adventures. at this is didnt really feel that as a possibility. i had arrived very late to switch vancouver, and was sweaty from the moshpit earlier that night. i wasnt dressed as myself, and was not dressed for the occasion. i was more motivated to seek out something i couldnt picture clearly in my head. i figured if i am going to be at an event with a playroom, i should at least check it out. 

i walked through two sets of black curtens into what was surpsingly a small room. about the size of a bunchanion seminar room. there were a handful of sosfas and tables spread around to create tgeh appreace of a sexy lviing room sort of sitatuion, with everyhting in black leather with silver frames. people were spread acorss every possible surface enjoying the phsycial sensations of each other. i put signficant effort into not looking at anyboyd in particular, but brieftly spotted b****** and j**** in the swell of people. i made my way over to a table of cleaning supplies and contraceptives. they defiently had every type of contraceptive available that anyone has ever thought of, which i aawksrdly gave my attetnion to for a moment, reading all of the labels as if i was conceviably unware of the orgy going on around me. there were other people who were standing around the edge, and sudeenbtly i recongized my friend j3*****. we said polite hellos and they were excited i ended up coming, even if things were going to end here soon. we chated very breifly, as through the darkness of the room the partner they were with began giving them head. i kinda figured this was my que to leave the palyroom so i left back through the double black currtens. 

outside i waited for my friends, milling in the darkness of the evening. feeling observant yet lost in the crowd. through the compassion of each indiviudal, the crowd of people seemed alive as itself. the same cocnsious awarnees as the punk show. people looking after one another. enjoying the company of each other. being themselves. having a good time. although the two events were vastly differnet on the surface, they were inspired by the same authincity of personality. “masculinity” doesn’t mean anything. “feminintiety” doesn’t mean anything. we only use these terms to limit the range of emotions someone can express. they are based on the steryotypes of what we are “supposed to be.” but there are no roles you need to fill. no person you need to be, other than the person you want to be. there is no cosutme to wear, just wear what you are. we all have a place in the creature of “us.” 

b***** later told me of an observation they had in the playroom which made me think of a connection between the punk show and switch vancouver. a pair were enjoying each other’s company with one of them spanking the other with a paddle. b**** observed the pair invite someone who was less comfotable in the space by saying “would you like to slap my bitch?” where the pair was then joined by an excited third. through the comedy of the interaction it was clear there was a foundation of compassion, where the pair was reaching out to someone in their community to make them feel more comofrtable and safe. this interaction was parrael to someone helping another up from a fall in the raging moshpit of the punk show. people looking out for one another is the heart of these communaties. in e**** protective insicts at the punk show did i find the same compasionate feelings in the sober buddy helping our trenchcoat friend outside of the switch vancouver. however these emotions are expressed, they are the same in how they reside within us. we don’t need words to label these feelings. there is no label for how it feels to care for one another, to be part of a community, to find a sense of belonging. there is no label for myself, as i feel i am part of something greater than myself.

the lights turned on in the venue at 3:00 am and i could hear people scrambiling to get dressed in the playroom. b***** j**** and i swiftly made our way outside where we were able to take pictures again and wait for a ride home. although i did not explore anything sexual endevours until my next atteandace at switch vancouver, i felt as if this introduction to the space was signficnat in allowing me to feel comfortable in my own self. comfortable in not having a defintition for my own gender and sexuality, becasue what are these labels when at the heart of everything we are all the same?