The Inspirations Behind Ragdoll's Original Painting, "Jendr"

It was around autumn time of 2022 when the term "non-binary" began to really set in for me. Prior to this fall, I had muted the thoughts ringing in the back of my mind about it all. I remember chewing on the terms "they/ them" and "outside the gender binary" for perhaps a couple years, and I would think to myself... "that's probably what I am." But I kept those tiny thoughts tucked in a file cabinet to be sorted later.

Now, turn back the clock to the early 2000s. It was preschool when my dad brought me to pick out my first bicycle. Naturally, I skipped right past the Barbie branded pink bikes and navigated through the winding aisles of Walmart until I landed right in front of a cobalt blue Wolverine bike with a snarling wolf graphic. "This one!" I said to dad. He laughed, and warmly replied "awesome!" I rode that bike with my training wheels around and around and around the parking lot of my elementary school feeling like the raddest kid in Warren School. And as I was wheeling past two kindergarten boys on the jungle gym, I swear I heard the blonde one say, "why does she have a boy's bike?" And that was the first time I can pinpoint feeling off about gender.

Perhaps a few years after the whole bicycle thing, I discovered that I hated girl clothes and asked my family if it was okay to shop in the boys section. No one seemed bothered, and no one in the family objected. I feel lucky to have family members who were generally indifferent and supportive at a young age. So off I went ~~alone~~ into the boys section of Old Navy. I remember tiptoeing through the racks until I saw one other little boy which sent me running back to the group in anxiety.

These small signals early on have been fun to look back on to recognize the beginning signs of being outside the typical gender binary. However, when it finally came time to unpack all of this, gender expression didn't feel so fun. As a burlesque performer who makes a living off of being hypersexual and confident in my nearly nude body, all of the sudden I felt panicky. I knew that if I wanted to continue performing I would need to find the courage to start expressing myself how I felt deep down. The term "transmasc" has been the closest identity so far to resonate with me, but how was I going to be brave enough to start dressing like a masc-leaning non-binary, nevertheless perform on stage as a drag king instead of my typical femme fantasy?! I felt like everyone including myself would be confused, disgusted, and upset.

This is when I created the painting, "Jendr," and this exact pain was transmuted into something beautiful. "Jendr" exists in an eternal twilight because that was where I was existing. Somewhere outside of the male/female earthly realm that most of us feel so comfy living in. For me, being non-binary is a twilight zone. Every single day feels strange and slightly eerie as I have a tiny panic attack trying to do the simple task of merely dressing myself in the morning. I think, "which mask do I wear today- male or female?" And because I cannot decide I take both, chop them apart, and sew them together into something unique and my own. But who is behind the masks? A great question that reveals answers to me little by little every day that I am alive. But there is hope yet in this painting. The monarchs swarm my body and fly off into the everlasting twilight; my familiars through this uncomfortable transition.

I do believe my experience has been atypical because it has been fully public and demonstrated on stages in front of audiences. I have processed so many of my emotions through my artistic expression, and sometimes sharing those feelings is truly terrifying. But if I wanted to continue on performing I would have to be painfully honest with myself about what makes me feel comfortable, not to mention sexy. And although painful, there have been silver linings to this process. When one does anything publicly, it allows their vulnerability to be seen by many. Some people will find it distasteful or even disown you for it, but others will see it as a glimmer of light to illuminate their dark paths forward through the coves of gender dysphoria. Now, a year after painting "Jendr," I am no longer in crisis mode. I wish the path to gender euphoria were easy, but it has been one of the most challenging inward battles I've had to face, and I don't know if it will ever truly "end." However, one of the biggest lessons I have learned yet is to take each day one at a time. And a little gender-affirming retail therapy never hurt anyone either.

~ x RAGDOLL x