I had a moment of acute gender!fail this week.
I'm taking a fiction workshop night class this semester. There are only seven people, myself included, in the class, with a male professor. All of the other students are guys. I absolutely did not realise that I was the only female body in the room until the professor commented on it. I looked around, and I was honestly surprised to confirm this fact--not that everyone else was male, but that I had missed this fact because I no longer think of myself as female.
I occupy a female body. I'm decently comfortable with that, most of the time, unless the Gender Demons strike and I really start hating the fact that I'm a 38-DD. I found a vest I totally forgot I had about a week ago. It's water resistant and fleece-lined, which makes it ideal for this weather, especially considering I usually have my hoodie sleeves shoved up around my forearms anyway. More importantly, it's just barely too tight, and has a zip-front, which means it does a pretty good job of constricting my ample cleavage.
This vest is the best thing that's happened to me lately.
I'm actually at a very strange time in my life. I've gone through phases with my identity, and I think I'm about to enter another. When I was in high school, maybe 2004, I started to realise that I was attracted to women, and so began to label myself as bisexual. Sometime during college, I began to realise that the bisexual label didn't suit me at all--it affirmed an idea I was beginning to reject, that being the concept of a gender binary. I can't call myself bisexual and recognise that there are more than two sexes, more than two genders.
Shortly after that, probably circa 2007, I started to notice something strange. I noticed that whatever magical 'femaleness' I was supposed to feel wasn't really there. Maybe it wasn't there anymore, or maybe it had never been, I don't know. I can't remember if I ever really felt like a girl. I know when I was a kid, I was a tomboy. I was the antithesis of all things feminine. I hated dresses. I loved playing outside. I wanted to play football in middle school. (I decided as I got older that dresses weren't so bad, but I'll still buck and snort if forced into a dress or a skirt. I have to really be in the mood.) I just did not get 'girly things'. That said, I also loved playing dress-up with my dolls and my costume box, and I loved playing House and Tea Party. I've always been a little bit genderqueer. I liked my Barbies and Easy-Bake as much as I liked my Legos and Hot Wheels.
The truth is, though, that I'm not sure how much the 'genderqueer' label fits me anymore, but that's what I get for lurking over at the What Is Gender forums. There's a lot more out there than I ever expected to find.
What I find fun about these phases I've gone through is that my writing is clearly affected by it, and my characters usually know before I do. Dameon was bi before I ever started identifying that way. Now I have Taylor, who is very strictly a Whatever, and I identify more with Tay than I ever have with any other character, even Dameon. I wanted to be Dameon's best friend. I just want to be Taylor. Which I get the chance to do once a week, and that's enough for me. It's one day out of the week where I'm not expected to present myself as a girl. For now, it's all the escape from the Gender Demons I need.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comments:
I'm affronted when people point out my gender, either to my benefit or detriment. I've been called both sir and ma'am most of my life. I don't think of myself with gender automatically. I'm more likely to think of myself having a name, and whatever else is completely secondary.
This is more glaring when people try to comment on my race. I have friends that automatically assume I'm biracial - to my knowledge, I'm not. With their assumptions comes the idea that I relate more with other races, or that I've faced institutional discrimination in the past. In fact, the only active discrimination I can point to someone confidently in my entire life was actually from a professor in grad school.
I'm comfortable not being overtly female or overtly white, but it seems that I am most uncomfortable and unhappy when they are used as tools to understand me when neither of them are true avenues to who I am.
Post a Comment