The Gender Tag: Two Years Running

We all know how this works by now. I'm just posting it early because I got bored.

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

The first gender labels I ever used for myself, when I first realized I wasn't cis, were genderfluid and demigirl. They still feel accurate - my pronouns, presentation, dysphoria, and personal relationship with my gender have fluctuated a lot over my lifetime.

And demigirl? It basically means the same as woman-aligned nonbinary, or nonbinary woman/girl. Nonbinary with some kind of connection to womanhood.

But I don't think genderfluid and demigirl completely capture how I feel about my gender. The label I'm most comfortable with right now, other than nonbinary, is gender nonconforming or tomcat - though it would help if more people knew what a tomcat was.

My connection to binary gender can basically be summed up through the understanding of being gay for women, and even then primarily through a lens of female masculinity and gender nonconformity.

I don't really want anyone except other LGBT women, particularly women that are both non-cis AND sapphic, to see me as a woman...unless I'm dating them, and even then I don't want cis women talking about me as if it's my body that makes me a woman.

And even when I'm okay with people seeing me as a woman, I'm not comfortable thinking of myself that way unless it's within the context of things not usually associated with womanhood. I'm fine calling myself a GNC woman, a bi woman, a WLW, one-half of a lesbian relationship (more on that new development later, and we're not even officially together yet so don't get too excited...). I think that's part of the reason I don't want kids unless it's with a woman and also part of the reason I wouldn't date a cishet man.

And I'm not comfortable with most female-coded terms. Daughter. Sister. Granddaughter. Ma'am. Miss. Lady. Missus. Pretty. She. Pretty much anything but mom, wife, and girlfriend.

But that doesn't mean I want anyone to see me as a man either. It makes me unbelievably uncomfortable when people think I'm a man - as uncomfortable, probably more, as when people think I'm a cis woman.

I have a trans male friend who keeps saying he doesn't understand the concept of she/her men and he/him women. So I used myself as an example to explain it to him but, even though he respects me and won't misgender me, he still didn't understand. He thought of he/him pronouns as a strictly male thing and that bothered me a lot. The same feeling of repulsion toward being called a man happened again when I was recently outed to a large group of people and, when I said my pronouns were he/him, some of them assumed I was a trans man.

Trans men are my brothers and friends and I have so, so much in common with them and desire for solidarity with them, but I'm not one of them and I don't want to be called one.

Besides my internal feelings toward my gender, the way I express them is punished by transphobia. If my only outward gender divergence was in my sexuality, my clothing, and the way I cut my hair, I would have just called myself a cis woman.

Sure, I would have been one with a complicated relationship to gender, but that can apply to a lot of non-straight cis people, especially disabled women. My ADHD and (possible) autism have influenced my performance of femininity - or lack thereof - and relationship to womanhood for most of my life. And after I realized I was bi, I had to basically restructure my entire understanding of what it meant to be a woman in a world where that label was so closely tied to heterosexuality. Woman is an identity that I only feel comfortable claiming on my own terms and within the context of gender nonconformity, disability, and bisexuality.

And for some women, that might still mean being comfortable with it, but I wasn't, really. Which led to me exploring my gender and altering my pronouns, clothing, and other aspects of how I expressed my gender.

Some of those aspects were punished more harshly than others. If I didn't want to medically transition and wear a packer and use pronouns other than she/her and feel uncomfortable being called a woman and having female-coded language used for me, I wouldn't be punished under transphobia the way that I am.

I would still get shit for my gender expression, of course, but not as harshly and mostly because of homophobia, ableism, and misogyny. It wouldn't put me in a different social class than cis lesbians and cis bi women. Expressing myself and wanting to live authentically and visibly in a way that is so far outside of womanhood in basically every conceivable way, expressing my gender and transitioning in a way that could get me fired or beaten or killed or forced into conversion therapy because it's so gender variant, does.

I feel like I've answered this question pretty well.

2. What pronouns honor you?

He/him, almost exclusively. I'm still trying to decide if I want them to be completely exclusively. Just don't call me by any other pronoun set unless you have my permission.

3. What style of clothing do you most often wear?

I feel a lot more drawn to masculinity, but on a daily basis my gender expression is fluid or androgynous.

I like ties, pretty much any kind of button down shirt, skinny jeans, khakis, men's graphic T-shirts, short sleeved V-necks, tank tops, Henley shirts, leggings, an occasional sundress or skirt, short shorts, leather jackets, beanies, cardigans, bomber jackets, pins and patches, sturdy jewelry, leather sandals, vests, those jackets that are part hoodie and part denim or leather, and capris. My style goals look like a cross between Mary Margaret Blanchard, David Nolan, a frat boy, Ruby Rose, dad clothes, and the contents of a menswear blog, with punk accents and religious jewelry added in.

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

My hair is freshly buzzed, done myself. #6 razor guard, but the guards I use are a different kind than the ones at the hair stylist. I'm planning to start growing it out in August and, once it's long enough, get it styled into a masculine-looking pixie cut that's shorter on the sides and back. I'll have to look for pictures to show the stylist soon. I'm thinking of just going off by myself to a barber or a trans-friendly salon so I don't have to risk a salon stylist making me look like a middle-aged cishet housewife.

I shave my armpits every day, the middle part between my eyebrows probably once or twice a month, and anything else whenever the urge strikes - which it rarely does.

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

I don't paint my nails or use perfumes, I use unscented soaps, and I don't wear makeup unless I have to or I'm doing drag.

6. Have you experienced being most entered? How often?

Yes, and constantly.

7. Do you experience dysphoria? How does it affect you?

It's fluid and affects me both physically and socially.

I already described how it affects me socially in #1.

I want a breast reduction, down to a B cup. That way I can bind with just a sports bra and loose-fitting shirt and look androgynous. I can have tits when I want them and look and feel flat-chested when I don't, all without the pain and health issues and dysphoria that arose when I tried binding.

When I talk about binding being a dysphoria trigger, by the way, what I mean is that I was always so hyperaware of that tight, constricting, not-very-breathable fabric around my torso that it just made me even more self-conscious and dysphoric about my chest.

My body naturally looks traditionally extremely feminine and conventionally pretty. I've been called "dainty" and "delicate-looking" multiple times and I can attract stares and flirting from men very easily when I want to - and when I don't. I'm on the small side, but still curvy, and I have a soft, high-pitched voice, especially around people I don't feel totally comfortable with, and the second-smallest hands I have ever seen on an adult. My appearance, even while GNC, has made me the subject of envy from many a cishet woman.

Believe me, I would just let them have my voice, my curves, my hands, everything, if I could. While I don't ordinarily care that much about my body, like I can be naked or swim without a problem, I hate being reminded of how feminine and pretty I look.

It can be fun to look as stereotypically sexy as I know I do, to get that kind of validation and have that kind of social capital, but there have been so many times when my body - or, rather, the way I know people look at it - makes me so uncomfortable and agitated that I want to cry.

It's not the same kind of "dysphoria" that cis women experience. It's not just because of femininity or heterosexuality. It's being seen as a woman and having a body that people associate with womanhood, even if I'm not actively being treated badly for it.

That's why, in addition to my breast reduction, short hair, and masculine clothing, I also want to wear a packer, why I'm leaning so heavily toward taking HRT. It's partly why I'm rarely comfortable being touched sexually by anyone, or taking on a more feminine role with a man. It's why I was absolutely horrified when I started puberty, why I asked if I could get rid of my breasts, why I dressed in shapeless ugly clothing for years, why I wrote so many "tomboy" characters with gender neutral names and virtually sexless bodies, why I want to be more lean and muscular, why I almost never wear anything but sports bras, why I always say "shape shifting" when asked what superpower I would have.

So uh...yeah, I'm dysphoric. And it affects me pretty intensely.

8. Talk about children. Are you interested in having children? Would you want to carry a child, if that's an option for you? Would you want to be the primary caretaker for any child you have?

I'm considering it, but only with a woman. I would want to either adopt kids or care for hers from a previous relationship. I wouldn't ever want to get pregnant - the idea of it makes me uncomfortable and dysphoric. I would never tell them because it's rude, but I don't even like being around pregnant or breastfeeding people.

I wouldn't want to be the primary caretaker, partially because I'm going to be a social worker and I don't think I have the emotional energy to do both that and the full labor of being a primary parent.

I also think the nuclear family is arbitrary, capitalist nonsense, and I would rather raise a child communally. Me, my wife, and our friends and family, all working together to care for any children and pets involved.

All of this said, having kids is a huge commitment and until I'm 100% sure that's what I want and what I can handle, I'm not having any at all.

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

Well, so far I've dated two people, both feminine cis women. They were both the rare kind of gay that can drive - I wasn't. Which is why I felt it only fair that I paid.

Speaking of, when I say that I dated two women, it's...complicated.

Hannah was really more of a fuckbuddy and I, in some sort of distorted effort to prove I was an adult and get past my insecurities about being "gay enough", went along with it even though I wanted something romantic. I don't regret it completely. She taught me about my boundaries and desires, helped me get past my fear of having sex with women, and made me feel sexy.

That is, she made me feel sexy until I found out she was a chaser and that she had lied to me about something important. Then she just made me feel dirty and violated. For that reason, I broke up with her before we ever really dated.

After my and Hannah's breakup, I threw myself into school. It paid off, landing me on the Dean's List for two semesters in a row. I also grew a lot emotionally, made some new friends, talked an old one out of something really dangerous and stupid, went to my first college party, accidentally got drunk for the first time (I was fine, don't worry, I just giggled a lot, got dizzy, and couldn't walk right until I ate something other than chips), accidentally came out as nonbinary to an assload of people, and decided once and for all that superficial things like sex and alcohol and even driving were a stupid way to judge maturity (I'm still trying to get my license though - it may be a stupid way to judge maturity, but it's also a useful skill and a source of independence).

Finally, I met Giaa (not her real name, I'm just trying to protect her).

I mostly find partners through the internet. It's a matter of practicality and convenience. This way, we know sooner if we're somehow not compatible before one or both of us gets hurt. It's also much easier for gay/bi people to meet potential partners online when we're under twenty-one (though it's only another five months for me), closeted, can't drive, or don't have a lot of LGBT spaces around us.

So that's how Giaa and I met. I don't know which one of us noticed the other first, but I eventually decided it was time I stopped being useless and actually talked to a beautiful woman for once.

I did. I'm so, so, so glad I did. She gave me her number and...she's amazing. She makes me laugh when I feel like I can't. She's so kind. She's gentle and beautiful and curious and brave and compassionate and fills my entire being with an affection that makes me grin like a little bisexual idiot and cry tears of joy. I never thought I would be this happy. She makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world and I want desperately to spend more time with her and protect her and just be with her.

Right now though, before we can actually pursue anything real and serious together, we have other things to do. We both had finals when we first started dating, and Giaa needed gallbladder surgery soon after and I asked her to never put me before her health. She said no promises, which terrifies me, but agreed to let me know when she isn't feeling well.

Now, it's Ramadan. Giaa is Muslim and, while dating doesn't break her fast as long as it doesn't lead to sex, she's also tired out and I don't ever want to ask her to choose me over time with her family and practicing her religion.

So I'm stepping back to give her some space. I already told her how I feel about her and I hope she can be in my life in any way possible, but...I guess I can't really say I've ever dated. Not yet.

As much as I want to yell from the rooftops about how great Giaa is, I'm getting sidetracked.

I would want to split any expenses fairly, and it only bothers me when someone offers to pay for me if I know they're struggling financially. Now, onto the next question.

10. Is there anything else you'd like to share about your experience with gender?

I think my last gender tag post covered this question pretty well.

A Proposal

One of the ways I came to the conclusion that asexuality and aromanticism aren't LGBT identities is by thinking of it similarly to polyamory and gender nonconformity.

Gender nonconforming cis people may face interpersonal social difficulties and stigma, but they are not oppressed. The antagonism they face is tied to other factors and varies from day to day.

Taking my gender fluidity out of the equation - though that's hard to do, as it's very closely tied to my expression - I am not oppressed just because of how I dress or how I cut my hair.

For starters, I don't usually look overtly feminine or masculine, and my expression can be fluid. Even though I'm very drawn to masculinity and am generally more comfortable and confident when I don't look overtly feminine, I do sometimes wear makeup, nail polish, or feminine clothing, I sometimes shave, and I've been thinking of growing out my hair (I'll shave it off again when it makes me uncomfortable). And when my appearance is seen as feminine, I'm treated not very differently than a feminine woman. Does that give me some sort of gender conforming privilege? Of course not, especially not over straight people, cis people, or men who look superficially more gender nonconforming than I do.

My privileges don't change just because I decided to put on a dress, and in any case being a woman - especially a LGBT woman - is a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. I could wear dresses every day and still be harmed by compulsory femininity. I wouldn't be able to economically benefit from the oppression of masculine women because in order to maintain the shield that femininity provides, I would have to get up early enough to do my makeup and hair every morning. I would have to spend additional money on feminine-coded things and constantly hold my body to a higher standard. I would, as a disabled woman, be exhausting my energy reservoir and putting myself through sensory hell every day in the faint, futile hope that my body will be pleasing to men. Of course, I could look superficially feminine without wanting to please men, but then that wouldn't truly be femininity.

Feminine women, for that reason, don't oppress me.

In the same way, I don't oppress asexual or aromantic people. Their most common argument for the existence of "aphobia" as an axis of oppression can basically be summed up to how people, especially women, are punished for saying no to sex or romance. But aros and aces aren't the only people who say no to sex or romance and they aren't the only people who are punished for it. It's also completely possible to be punished for feeling attraction - that's literally what homophobia is - so it's not like us "allos" get off easy either.

The most common victims of "aphobia" are people of color, women, disabled people, and LGBT people. And all of those groups are also punished for feeling attraction.

Just like with gender expression, one's personal relationship to romance and sex (not who they're attracted to feel) is a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation and the only people who really get off scot-free are cishet white abled men.

In that way, aces and aros have a lot more in common with gender nonconforming people than they do with LGBT people. So doesn't it make more sense for acomm people to form an alliance with GNC people than try to push their way into an oppressed community that they don't inherently have anything to do with?

It's not like those three groups - ace, aro, and GNC people - would even have to be the only ones in this hypothetical alliance. It could be for polyamorous people. Sex repulsed people. Celibate people.

Nothing about this would have to be focused on oppression either. They could just talk about how, regardless of how you identify, it's good to live authentically. It's okay to say yes or no to sex, to not want to date. It's okay to have multiple partners. It's okay to be an adult virgin. It's okay to dress how you want. It's okay to defy gender roles. There could be campaigns about rape culture, about sexualization of teens, about jealousy and controlling behavior and how to avoid toxic relationships. About learning to exist as a woman when so much of that is tied around performing femininity to be attractive to men and that's not what you want. About enjoying your own company. About self-love. About communication. About consent. About sexual boundaries.

I'm a GNC woman who is curious about non-monogamy and is relatively sex-repulsed. I could benefit from all of this and I know lots of other people who could as well, whether or not any of these traits apply to them.

But, as someone who would hypothetically be in this alliance and who is also a nonbinary bisexual, I need these communities to be separate. I need people to acknowledge that gay monogamy is and will always be more radical than straight polyamory. I need them to acknowledge that people are very rarely rewarded or privileged for wanting sex or romance. I need sex to not be treated like something dirty. I need marginalized people to take center stage.

Can we all agree on that? Please?