I always want to learn more about things. To be totally honest with you, what I’m having the most trouble understanding in the current gender discourse is how can gender be both a social construct/abstraction (in the famous words of Judith Butler “an imitation without an original”) but then also gender identity is a deeply-seated innate feeling that people have that then enables the feeling of “my gender is wrong and I need to change it.”
I really don’t want to be transphobic or even enbyphobic or anything and I will use whatever pronouns people want to be nice. But just on an epistemological level, I’m having trouble understanding it.
Something being a social construct doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter, especially in this society where your gender is a thing people want to know about so that they can form opinions about you. It is also a way of self expression because with your gender you can signal to the outside world how you see yourself and how you want to be.
If you are forced into a role that does not reflect who you are, you are going to have a rough time, because people automatically assign you traits and how they will treat you based on that role. And then it doesn’t matter if gender is a thing imposed on us by nature or something we invented to categorize people.
I’m not sure if this helps but I hope it does at least a little.
That’s part I understand. What I don’t understand is
a role that does not reflect who you are
how you see yourself and how you want to be.
In the context of gender, where do these feelings come from? How do I know if a role does or doesn’t reflect “who I am?” Where does how I see myself come from and where does the desire to be how I want to be come from?
You haven’t actually answered my question, sorry to say. What I’m asking is where does the feeling of being “forced into a role” come from? How do I know the role is not right for me?
I’m (trans) nonbinary, and I’ll try to put to words what this amorphous feeling is. Apologies in advance for the wall of text, this isn’t simple and has been a years long process for me to arrive at this ultimately incomplete articulation.
Spoiler: It all relates back to the social construct of sex and gender and it’s not an either/or as an abstract or deep seated feeling that drives us to change.
Growing up I was socialized as a boy and told who I was supposed to be and how I was supposed to act, both implicitly by society and explicitly by my community (evangelical Christians). I was, however, never able to conform to those norms. I was always left on the outside no matter how hard I tried to fit. I grew up with significant dissonance without understanding that it was these gender labels created for and placed on me causing it.
In my 30’s I started to meet people and acquire language that resonated with me regarding gender. This new language started to connect the dots for me that my ‘aberrant’ and secret feelings and behaviors (wishing I could be a woman while still being a man, being jealous that women got to dress in ways I wasn’t allowed to, wishing I could adopt norms applied to women without repercussion, among others) that caused me so much distress were ultimately due to the fact that I was told they were aberrant and, most importantly, told they were wrong.
So when I discovered that the primary problem was the label, the way to combat that was to accept a new label that gives me the freedom to express myself how I want to. Gender is important to me because I was socialized with gender as a central pillar to my identity, and because society has done the same at scale. That is to say, I look like a man so I shouldn’t wear makeup, shouldn’t paint my nails, shouldn’t wear skirts or dresses, shouldn’t move my body in certain ways, shouldn’t speak in certain ways determined to be feminine, shouldn’t be excited about certain things, and a thousand other ‘shouldn’ts’ that I want to do. I’ve always more closely identified with and been easier friends with women. My motivation for many things has always been in closer alignment with women. But I still feel masculine from time to time and have many ‘masculine’ traits like the desire to protect, an appreciation and love for cars and mechanics, a desire to be bigger and stronger than the person next to me, and a number of other traits considered to be ‘manly’.
There is no paradigm within mainstream western culture to account for this fluidity. I am a deviant from the social norm, and because of that I am an outsider with no community or home. As humans we are social beings and we crave, even need, belonging. So when I discovered that my perceived gender was the source of these feelings of dissonance and loneliness, it became imminently important for me to figure out why, because figuring out why it was important gave me the path to finally finding my community where I can finally experience belonging. Finding the labels that resonate with me helps me find the people that can really understand me. It doesn’t matter how much of an ally you are, if you’re CIS you’ll never truly understand me as a human because of the way that society has structured itself with regards to gender norms. You can empathize, accept, and love me, but that will never fill the void created in me by never feeling truly seen.
With CIS people I will always have to filter and translate what I say in order to be understood as a person, but with other gender-queer people I don’t have to. These are my people, they’ve been on the same road as me, and when I talk about these amorphous feelings md experiences they look at me with understanding and knowing and that’s it. I don’t have to keep going, I can just say what I’m feeling and they not only understand, they are right there in the same space breathing the same air. I have a partner who is trans-masc and one of the things we love to talk about and gush over is when we get misgendered to whatever gender we weren’t assigned at birth. I was recently asked if my pronouns are ‘she/her’ and that filled me with a joy that I can’t articulate. But with them they immediately understood and shared in my excitement. To share that with a CIS person requires significant emotional labor to be put into explaining the context and setting the scene in order for them to be able to celebrate with me (kind of like that last 40 minutes I’ve put into crafting this post). But with this partner it’s immediately known and viscerally understood. Sharing this story with my gender queer friends results in a communal sense of feeling seen and known that I just can’t find from even my closest CIS friends.
I’m fortunate that I don’t have body dysphoria with any of the biology that I have, but this is complicated by the fact that I do have dysphoria with biology I don’t and can’t have. I love having my biologically male body, but I have a deep longing to have a biologically female body too. I don’t talk about this often, so bear with me as I try to stumble through this. This duality is why I know I’m not a trans-woman and why I’ve adopted the non-binary label. It’s also why being gendered he/him is disruptive to me psychologically (I have a bad relationship with masc pronouns because of the quiet trauma I experience being socialized as a boy when I am, in fact, not a boy, and a complicated relationship with femme pronouns, though if I’m going to be misgendered in the binary I’d rather be misgendered in the femme direction). My sense of self vacillates across the spectrum of the binary while sometimes jumping off the scale entirely where gender is meaningless and I best describe my gender as the way kinetic sand drops and falls apart when it’s held loosely (that makes as much sense to me as it does you, I promise…. It just feels right and I can’t explain it. This type of description is common in the nonbinary community). So I have the double dissonance of this physical dysphoria along with my social dysphoria.
And all of this is ultimately important to me because I had it pounded into me like a spike in my head that I am a boy and that I am supposed to experience life a certain way because I’m a boy. Gender is important to me because the expectations for my behavior in society are determined by my (perceived) gender. If I just go along with what society thinks I am, I will never be happy because I will always be stuck trying to conform to what others think I should be. If I could, would express with 100% androgyny, but I can’t for various reasons. So as I hope you can see, I experience gender from both the abstract nature of it being a social construct and as a deeply seated innate feeling that drives me to be different.
What I can say is that in order to not be transphobic (non-binary folks are trans btw), you should learn to accept that we experience the world and ourselves differently than you do. You have no problem accepting that from other people groups, like children, people with disabilities, and people across socioeconomic strati, so apply it to us as well and recognize that we just want to exist as we are and not as we are wanted to be. And you can help by using our pronouns and believing us when we say we are something other than what we look like, even if you can’t viscerally understand it. At the end of the day, if you are CIS, this conversation isn’t for you, it’s for those of us finding ourselves, so of course it will be difficult to impossible for you to understand. And that’s ok. We don’t need that, we need acceptance.
First of all I want to thank you for writing this out and taking my questions seriously. I know it can be hard to put these feelings into words, so really thanks.
I kind of get where you’re coming from in terms of gendered socialization. Growing up a small eastern european village as a gay boy and teen, I definitely felt I was pitched very strongly the “right way” to be a man and a “wrong way” to be a man.
What’s interesting to me is this talk about labels. I hope I am reading it right, but you seem to be saying you needed the label before you could do things. Why? Why is a label necessary before you can engage in behaviors? For me, I knew I was gay long before I applied the label to myself and in fact, applying that label to finally accept I am gay has been a source of a lot of friction and anxiety in my youth.
What I am saying is, do you not feel when you say
But I still feel masculine from time to time and have many ‘masculine’ traits like the desire to protect, an appreciation and love for cars and mechanics, a desire to be bigger and stronger than the person next to me, and a number of other traits considered to be ‘manly’.
That you are actually reifying gender? Why are these traits masculine? I may be coming to this from a very “second wave feminism” perspective, but to me and many people in my generation, gender “liberation” was about erasing these boundaries and decoupling stuff like cars and strength from either masculinity or femininity.
I’m not saying that all trans rights activists do this, but there is a strain of it I noticed that really does seem to be want to define gender for everyone and then enforce these new gender standards on everyone. I have some stereotypical “feminine” interests too. I like fashion, I like to talk about my feelings with my friends for hours. But I don’t feel in any way like a woman because of it.
To me, gender liberation was about learning that my homosexuality doesn’t make me “less of a man,” that I can still enjoy “masculine” pursuits, but really that I can be any kind of man I want to be without having to adopt any new labels or identities.
In fact, I felt, and many gay men of my generation do, that to accept a new and separate labels means also accepting that we’re not “proper” men.
I suppose that’s a source of a lot of misunderstanding because it seems to me that current gender theory is diverging from this idea of gender non-essentialism into a new form of gender essentialism where if you like stereotypical “male stuff” then you’re not a “proper woman” that is to say you must be either trans or non-binary in some way. And vice-versa. I’m interested in your opinion on this.
The second thing that jumps out at me is your claim that if we’re cis we cannot understand you. While it is true that we can never fully grasp the experience of the Other (regardless of identities and lived experiences) I still believe empathy is possible and necessary for building solidarity.
When I hear this, I think I hear two things: one, that there’s a fundamental disconnection between us that cannot be remedied; two, that the only way for me to support you is to put myself in a subordinate position to you and simply as some activists say “shut up and listen.”
And with all the respect in the world, I am not prepared to accept the second condition. Gender concerns me as well, even if I am cis, and I cannot accept that there should be a group of people, in the current progressive view these are trans and non-binary people, who should have sole authority to define gender and to whom we all need to genuflect.
This isn’t about respecting your gender identity, which I do, this is about a society-wide discourse on gender that we’re all subject to whether we want it or not. I want the freedom to talk about gender, my own and gender at large, without being shouted down and called a bigot every time I disagree with the current progressive consensus on it.
Anyway, thank you again for your extensive write-up, it’s important to hear the actual experience and thoughts of people and not just theories.
Do you want an honest answer to your questions or are you set on your worldviews?
I always want to learn more about things. To be totally honest with you, what I’m having the most trouble understanding in the current gender discourse is how can gender be both a social construct/abstraction (in the famous words of Judith Butler “an imitation without an original”) but then also gender identity is a deeply-seated innate feeling that people have that then enables the feeling of “my gender is wrong and I need to change it.”
I really don’t want to be transphobic or even enbyphobic or anything and I will use whatever pronouns people want to be nice. But just on an epistemological level, I’m having trouble understanding it.
Something being a social construct doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter, especially in this society where your gender is a thing people want to know about so that they can form opinions about you. It is also a way of self expression because with your gender you can signal to the outside world how you see yourself and how you want to be.
If you are forced into a role that does not reflect who you are, you are going to have a rough time, because people automatically assign you traits and how they will treat you based on that role. And then it doesn’t matter if gender is a thing imposed on us by nature or something we invented to categorize people.
I’m not sure if this helps but I hope it does at least a little.
That’s part I understand. What I don’t understand is
In the context of gender, where do these feelings come from? How do I know if a role does or doesn’t reflect “who I am?” Where does how I see myself come from and where does the desire to be how I want to be come from?
You haven’t actually answered my question, sorry to say. What I’m asking is where does the feeling of being “forced into a role” come from? How do I know the role is not right for me?
I’m (trans) nonbinary, and I’ll try to put to words what this amorphous feeling is. Apologies in advance for the wall of text, this isn’t simple and has been a years long process for me to arrive at this ultimately incomplete articulation.
Spoiler: It all relates back to the social construct of sex and gender and it’s not an either/or as an abstract or deep seated feeling that drives us to change.
Growing up I was socialized as a boy and told who I was supposed to be and how I was supposed to act, both implicitly by society and explicitly by my community (evangelical Christians). I was, however, never able to conform to those norms. I was always left on the outside no matter how hard I tried to fit. I grew up with significant dissonance without understanding that it was these gender labels created for and placed on me causing it.
In my 30’s I started to meet people and acquire language that resonated with me regarding gender. This new language started to connect the dots for me that my ‘aberrant’ and secret feelings and behaviors (wishing I could be a woman while still being a man, being jealous that women got to dress in ways I wasn’t allowed to, wishing I could adopt norms applied to women without repercussion, among others) that caused me so much distress were ultimately due to the fact that I was told they were aberrant and, most importantly, told they were wrong.
So when I discovered that the primary problem was the label, the way to combat that was to accept a new label that gives me the freedom to express myself how I want to. Gender is important to me because I was socialized with gender as a central pillar to my identity, and because society has done the same at scale. That is to say, I look like a man so I shouldn’t wear makeup, shouldn’t paint my nails, shouldn’t wear skirts or dresses, shouldn’t move my body in certain ways, shouldn’t speak in certain ways determined to be feminine, shouldn’t be excited about certain things, and a thousand other ‘shouldn’ts’ that I want to do. I’ve always more closely identified with and been easier friends with women. My motivation for many things has always been in closer alignment with women. But I still feel masculine from time to time and have many ‘masculine’ traits like the desire to protect, an appreciation and love for cars and mechanics, a desire to be bigger and stronger than the person next to me, and a number of other traits considered to be ‘manly’.
There is no paradigm within mainstream western culture to account for this fluidity. I am a deviant from the social norm, and because of that I am an outsider with no community or home. As humans we are social beings and we crave, even need, belonging. So when I discovered that my perceived gender was the source of these feelings of dissonance and loneliness, it became imminently important for me to figure out why, because figuring out why it was important gave me the path to finally finding my community where I can finally experience belonging. Finding the labels that resonate with me helps me find the people that can really understand me. It doesn’t matter how much of an ally you are, if you’re CIS you’ll never truly understand me as a human because of the way that society has structured itself with regards to gender norms. You can empathize, accept, and love me, but that will never fill the void created in me by never feeling truly seen.
With CIS people I will always have to filter and translate what I say in order to be understood as a person, but with other gender-queer people I don’t have to. These are my people, they’ve been on the same road as me, and when I talk about these amorphous feelings md experiences they look at me with understanding and knowing and that’s it. I don’t have to keep going, I can just say what I’m feeling and they not only understand, they are right there in the same space breathing the same air. I have a partner who is trans-masc and one of the things we love to talk about and gush over is when we get misgendered to whatever gender we weren’t assigned at birth. I was recently asked if my pronouns are ‘she/her’ and that filled me with a joy that I can’t articulate. But with them they immediately understood and shared in my excitement. To share that with a CIS person requires significant emotional labor to be put into explaining the context and setting the scene in order for them to be able to celebrate with me (kind of like that last 40 minutes I’ve put into crafting this post). But with this partner it’s immediately known and viscerally understood. Sharing this story with my gender queer friends results in a communal sense of feeling seen and known that I just can’t find from even my closest CIS friends.
I’m fortunate that I don’t have body dysphoria with any of the biology that I have, but this is complicated by the fact that I do have dysphoria with biology I don’t and can’t have. I love having my biologically male body, but I have a deep longing to have a biologically female body too. I don’t talk about this often, so bear with me as I try to stumble through this. This duality is why I know I’m not a trans-woman and why I’ve adopted the non-binary label. It’s also why being gendered he/him is disruptive to me psychologically (I have a bad relationship with masc pronouns because of the quiet trauma I experience being socialized as a boy when I am, in fact, not a boy, and a complicated relationship with femme pronouns, though if I’m going to be misgendered in the binary I’d rather be misgendered in the femme direction). My sense of self vacillates across the spectrum of the binary while sometimes jumping off the scale entirely where gender is meaningless and I best describe my gender as the way kinetic sand drops and falls apart when it’s held loosely (that makes as much sense to me as it does you, I promise…. It just feels right and I can’t explain it. This type of description is common in the nonbinary community). So I have the double dissonance of this physical dysphoria along with my social dysphoria.
And all of this is ultimately important to me because I had it pounded into me like a spike in my head that I am a boy and that I am supposed to experience life a certain way because I’m a boy. Gender is important to me because the expectations for my behavior in society are determined by my (perceived) gender. If I just go along with what society thinks I am, I will never be happy because I will always be stuck trying to conform to what others think I should be. If I could, would express with 100% androgyny, but I can’t for various reasons. So as I hope you can see, I experience gender from both the abstract nature of it being a social construct and as a deeply seated innate feeling that drives me to be different.
What I can say is that in order to not be transphobic (non-binary folks are trans btw), you should learn to accept that we experience the world and ourselves differently than you do. You have no problem accepting that from other people groups, like children, people with disabilities, and people across socioeconomic strati, so apply it to us as well and recognize that we just want to exist as we are and not as we are wanted to be. And you can help by using our pronouns and believing us when we say we are something other than what we look like, even if you can’t viscerally understand it. At the end of the day, if you are CIS, this conversation isn’t for you, it’s for those of us finding ourselves, so of course it will be difficult to impossible for you to understand. And that’s ok. We don’t need that, we need acceptance.
First of all I want to thank you for writing this out and taking my questions seriously. I know it can be hard to put these feelings into words, so really thanks.
I kind of get where you’re coming from in terms of gendered socialization. Growing up a small eastern european village as a gay boy and teen, I definitely felt I was pitched very strongly the “right way” to be a man and a “wrong way” to be a man.
What’s interesting to me is this talk about labels. I hope I am reading it right, but you seem to be saying you needed the label before you could do things. Why? Why is a label necessary before you can engage in behaviors? For me, I knew I was gay long before I applied the label to myself and in fact, applying that label to finally accept I am gay has been a source of a lot of friction and anxiety in my youth.
What I am saying is, do you not feel when you say
That you are actually reifying gender? Why are these traits masculine? I may be coming to this from a very “second wave feminism” perspective, but to me and many people in my generation, gender “liberation” was about erasing these boundaries and decoupling stuff like cars and strength from either masculinity or femininity.
I’m not saying that all trans rights activists do this, but there is a strain of it I noticed that really does seem to be want to define gender for everyone and then enforce these new gender standards on everyone. I have some stereotypical “feminine” interests too. I like fashion, I like to talk about my feelings with my friends for hours. But I don’t feel in any way like a woman because of it.
To me, gender liberation was about learning that my homosexuality doesn’t make me “less of a man,” that I can still enjoy “masculine” pursuits, but really that I can be any kind of man I want to be without having to adopt any new labels or identities.
In fact, I felt, and many gay men of my generation do, that to accept a new and separate labels means also accepting that we’re not “proper” men.
I suppose that’s a source of a lot of misunderstanding because it seems to me that current gender theory is diverging from this idea of gender non-essentialism into a new form of gender essentialism where if you like stereotypical “male stuff” then you’re not a “proper woman” that is to say you must be either trans or non-binary in some way. And vice-versa. I’m interested in your opinion on this.
The second thing that jumps out at me is your claim that if we’re cis we cannot understand you. While it is true that we can never fully grasp the experience of the Other (regardless of identities and lived experiences) I still believe empathy is possible and necessary for building solidarity.
When I hear this, I think I hear two things: one, that there’s a fundamental disconnection between us that cannot be remedied; two, that the only way for me to support you is to put myself in a subordinate position to you and simply as some activists say “shut up and listen.”
And with all the respect in the world, I am not prepared to accept the second condition. Gender concerns me as well, even if I am cis, and I cannot accept that there should be a group of people, in the current progressive view these are trans and non-binary people, who should have sole authority to define gender and to whom we all need to genuflect.
This isn’t about respecting your gender identity, which I do, this is about a society-wide discourse on gender that we’re all subject to whether we want it or not. I want the freedom to talk about gender, my own and gender at large, without being shouted down and called a bigot every time I disagree with the current progressive consensus on it.
Anyway, thank you again for your extensive write-up, it’s important to hear the actual experience and thoughts of people and not just theories.