The Gender Tag

Ashley Wylde's Gender Tag and the bagillions of video responses that came of it have inspired me, this morning, to return after months of very deep and profound gender exploration to return to a more basic conversation. Perhaps it's a litmus test. I'm curious to enter into this conversation at a time when the world's awareness of trans people and experience seem to be expanding pretty rapidly.

Here are the questions.

1. How do you self-identify your gender, and what does that definition mean to you?

I identify as nonbinary, and I identify as transgender. What those things mean changes over time, and part of the reason those two labels have stuck with me is their versatility. It is difficult to be sure or exact about gender labels when you don't conform precisely - it's important for me to get out of my head, away from rumination about my feelings, and instead describe my experiences.

I had a strongly feminine- and girl-identified early childhood, had a more complex but still girl-identified adolescence, and have had moments of very strong identification with certain types of masculinity and manhood since coming out two years ago. I have had seasons where "genderfluid" would have been the right description; I have had seasons where "trans man" might have been the right description; I have had and am currently returning to a season where "bigender" seems to make sense; I described myself as "genderqueer" for a long time. I can play semantic games all day and waste a million words on the exact connotations of various terms... But they all remain descriptions, and the simple truth that my gendered life has been neither solely male nor exactly female (nonbinary) and that I was assigned a different gendered identity than I identify with (transgender) are denotatively precise in a way that others might not be.

I have gravitated away from the word "genderqueer" lately because it seemed more like a description of society's interaction with me than my interaction with society. Yes, I am queer, and yes, my identified gender is queer, but my social experience is currently more defined (whether correctly or not) by people's incorrect perception of me as not queer than as specifically queer. I have several friends and partners that have a different experience: they get gendered differently by different people, their genders confuse people, they seem ambiguous, they carry marked traits. I feel a greater need to fight for others' perception of me as queer. For some reason, the word "genderqueer" seems more like a description that can be answered "yes" or "no" from observation, and "nonbinary" doesn't seem like an identity people can deny me. 

I find strength in asserting that whatever incorrect, oversimplified things people get themselves to believe about me (that I'm a binary trans man or that I'm a cis straight girl or that I'm some chivalrous dykey lesbian or whatever), I remain an integrated person not confined to any of the binaries assumed of me. It feels like empowerment, rather than something other people can deny me. You may not experience my gender as queer, but I can tell you that for sure I am not binary.

2. What pronouns honor you?

The word "honor" is fascinating. It implies intentionality and respect and visibility and courtesy, the negation of which is almost assumed by me of the broader world. 

They/them honors me very much. I feel less specifically uncomfortable with he/him than with she/her, because I get read so exclusively as female that I figure anyone calling me by male pronouns must understand the mixedness of my identity and presentation. But "they/them" feels to me like people have stopped trying to box me in and have simply accepted me for who and what I am. It feels like barriers have been torn down. When people use my pronouns, I feel equipped to work, to play, to teach, to collaborate, to think clearly without constant reference to gender. 

I am able to be a full and functioning member of a group only when people use those pronouns. Otherwise, I inevitably end up feeling like a perpetual visitor. Which, as you might imagine, makes for an awkward way to be part of family or part of groups that assume that everyone feels warm fuzzy belonging. They don't notice the exclusivity they radiate at my face every time they assume something gendered of me, the most frequent reminder of which is obviously pronouns.

3. Describe the style of clothing that you most often wear.

I wear a lot of button-downs and tailored men's pants. I'm still working out my style - there are so many things I would love to wear but that I can't because dysphoria is a very real barrier. I would love to wear sundresses the way I did as a little kid. I would love to wear the soft, thin, heather cotton men's henley T-shirts I pet and covet every time I walk into a department store but never try on. I would love to wear thinner and smaller clothing in general, because baggy clothes make me feel gross and sluggish... But it's really hard to pull off "form-fitting" when you don't have a form you'd like anything to fit. But I'm working on it.

I love earth tones and soft colors - navy blues and burnt rusty red colors and warm browns and charcoaly grey patterns. I've always loved dark grey things with slightly lighter grey patterns on them. Things that feel clean and fresh without compromising their welcoming softness are very attractive to me. My dad gave me an old, beat-up watch of his that's got a worn brown band and a dull green/tan face, and I just love how it makes me feel. Like I need to hide it or someone's going to notice and tell me I'm not allowed to feel so lovely. 

My aesthetic sense of color and design, for my clothes as well as my physical space, is what feels most masculine about me. But more about that in a bit.

4. Talk about your choices with body hair. How do you style your hair? 5. Do you have facial hair? What do you choose to shave, or choose not to shave?

I experienced some peer pressure as a preteen to pluck my eyebrows and shave my legs, so I did that for my adolescence, but stopped during my "lesbian" phase as part of my effort to rid myself of the bullshit patriarchal instincts I was taught as a young person. I never looked back about my leg hair - it feels like the innocence of girlhood and the warmth of manhood all at once. I still shave my armpits sometimes - I didn't like when that grew in at puberty at all, and some of that lingers - and like to keep my pubic hair trimmed. I'm nervous about facial hair because it's so high-maintenance and I love the feeling of two peach fuzz cheeks brushing against each other, but I am so extremely excited for the way facial hair will look on me when I'm able to grow it. I imagine I will keep it as short as I can without it feeling prickly or stubble-ish.

6. Talk about cosmetics. Do you choose to wear makeup? Do you paint your nails? What types of soaps and perfumes do you use if any?

I fasted from makeup when I fasted from shaving a couple years ago, and that was really important. I spent my entire adolescence, from 12-19, obsessively spending an hour or more on makeup every single morning. I was so insecure about acne and I so hated how innocent and pure I looked without eyeliner that it was an absolute necessity for me to be made up before I could go anywhere outside my house. I wore black nail polish for a little bit as an androgynous social statement as a teen, but I only paint my nails now as a statement of rebellion against transmasculine gender norms.

As for soaps and perfumes: the introduction of masculine-scented shampoo, deodorant, and body spray into my life has been unexpectedly wonderful. When I get upset or dysphoric, those smells help calm me down and get back into my body. I tend to like just enough muskiness for it to feel more masculine than neutral, but not enough that I smell dudebroish or like an old man.

7. Have you experienced being misgendered? If so, how often?

I'm misgendered constantly, every day, but almost exclusively as a girl. I wouldn't mind so much if it were more or less even, but it's not. I like getting called "sir" in martial arts and don't feel misgendered by that despite it being binary. I like getting called "he"/"boy"/"boyfriend" just as a break from reality by one couple I and my partner know even though those things don't remotely describe me. The rest of my life is overwhelmingly "that nice woman over there" or "hello ladies" or "she" or "her" or "girls."

8. Do you experience dysphoria? How does that affect you?

Yes. I didn't use to - or, well, I didn't use to think I did. I hid it from my conscious mind pretty well as a teen, but I've felt dysphoria since puberty started, and its appearance in my life caused me to quit a lot of activities (dance, gymnastics, ice skating, swimming) that I loved. I always felt discomfort and insecurity around my body, but it was pretty well-managed. As I've become more integrated with my body through sex, kink, and exercise, it's become more and more difficult to tolerate things that feel very concretely wrong. Especially since I've started actively moving toward surgery, it's like I've sufficiently anticipated the ways in which my body will feel better that its persistent wrongness is purely unacceptable to me.

Specifically, my midsection and my chest are frequently debilitating to me. They aren't always, and I work hard to get my body to cooperate with me, but at times it'll flare up to such an extent that I'm unable to fall asleep or lay on my stomach or even roll over without crippling anxiety consuming me. I've actively avoided exercise at times for no reason other than it putting me in touch with my body, reminding me that there are random globs of flesh on me that feel wrong and awful. I have slightly less but still present dysphoria over my actual pelvic structure (which, unfortunately, does not change on T and can't be fixed by surgery), the muscles in my shoulders, and feminine fat deposits on my upper thighs. The above types of dysphoria can sometimes be bad enough that I can do very little other than curl up in some position, stay very very still, and cry until it goes away. I try to avoid it at all costs, because it's simply awful.

I have almost no bottom dysphoria and I am thankful for that constantly. I am very afraid that that will change at some point, because I really like all of my bits. I would like more length in the piece of tissue that I don't particularly love referring to as either a clit or a dick, but I don't feel dysphoric about that right now and am simply stoked for the growth T promises.

I've had less frequent dysphoria over voice pitch and inflection, height, my smile, posture, and other little things that manifest more as confusion or dissociation than distress or anxiety. Dysphoria in general can show up as either sorts. I kind of sometimes prefer the confusion/dissociation type, even though the latter sort is more embodied and feels more authentic, simply because it's less painful.

9. Talk about children. Are you interested in having children? Would you want to carry a child if that were an option for you? Do you want to be the primary caretaker for any children you may have?

I would love to have children. Since I came out as "lesbian," I've figured I'd adopt and been excited about that. I am pretty unconvinced that the world needs more children in it, especially when so many already need homes and stable families. I actively hate the idea of being a pregnant woman, too, so that put pregnancy out of the picture for me. But since opening the possibility of being a pregnant man, I've been more into the idea of perhaps carrying a child. I imagine that that would be less dysphoric and might actually be pretty wonderful and liberating. 

My perfect world involves more than two adults in my children's lives, all of which are parent-like figures and none of which occupy normative roles for "mom" or "dad." It might be cool and convenient to co-parent with (a) romantic and/or sexual partner(s), but those ideas seem unrelated to me. I definitely don't want to be a stay-at-home parent, but I definitely don't want to be a "provider" in the classical sense. I want to radically destroy those things as gendered categories.

10. Talk about money. Is it important to you to provide for a family financially if you choose to have one? Is it important to you that you earn more than any partner you may have? Do you prefer to pay for things like dates? Are you uncomfortable when others pay for you or offer to pay for you?

I hate money and I hate that it's gendered. The partner with whom I currently spend most of my time is much more financially established and lucrative than I am, and it is easy enough for me to vicariously perform her utilitarian calculus that I don't feel guilty letting her buy everything for me anymore. But I definitely prefer more egalitarian money solutions, and look forward to the day when I and all my partners can buy things for each other or pay bills in a way that makes money as much of a non-issue as humanly possible.

11. Anything else you want to share about your experience with gender?

Liberation... It is precious and beautiful and I have felt it. My experience of gender seems so real, but so detached from society at large. Because I and so many of my loved ones are trans/GNC/nonbinary, I have gotten used to my life being subversive of gendered scripts and norms. I feel like an ambassador or tourist or tour guide when I have to interact with people that adhere to them. It is something of a life goal of mine to infect as many people as possible with the knowledge that this way of life is possible for them... I cannot imagine how much less alive I would be if I weren't living with the self-knowledge I have gained.