I'm Gender-fluid And Thought That Was Self Explanatory From The Name, But Apparently Not
What genderfluidity means to me and why it really isn't as hard to understand as people make it out to be.
I've come out multiple times; a few for my sexuality, and most recently I came out as gender-fluid.
Webster defines the fluidity of gender as a person whose gender identity is not fixed. It might be the English major in me, but I figured when I came out that even if someone didn't know what that meant, it was pretty easy to deduce from the word "fluid" itself.
Boy, was I wrong.
Similar to how I felt when I first started exploring my sexuality and came out as bi, I didn't expect to get a lot of hatred, ignorance, and discrimination for it. My thinking while identifying as bisexual was that I still had a little "straight" in me, and as a gender-fluid person I still had a little "cisgender girl" in me, so surely people wouldn't have that big of an issue with either.
I can only blame myself for still being shocked at people's reactions to my newfound identity.
Thankfully, unlike my brief period thinking I was bisexual, I was met with more pure ignorance than disrespect. Now almost a year later, it's still painfully clear that people just don't know what to do with that information once they find out. So, I feel that it's my duty to share my experience and what gender-fluidity means to me.
It started off really basic in terms of LGBT+ ah-ha moments. For upwards of six months, I thought that I was a binary-trans man. By that, I mean that I felt that I had been born into the wrong body, appearing as a girl but that I was actually a man.
The gender binary is a term used to describe the spectrum that exists between being strictly male and female. Because this "A or B" mentality was my only understanding of being transgender, I felt that the only answer to how I was feeling was that I was actually a "B" after all.
I felt like an alien in my own body, hated any signs that gave away my femininity and seriously looked into the options for medical transition. I was so sure that I was a man, I marveled at the fact that it hadn't been obvious to me my whole life. I had periods growing up where I was a "tomboy" and wanted to be called Ken instead of Kennedy as early as 6-years-old, so it was easy to gloss over the times where I loved my curves and tried fruitlessly to learn how to do makeup.
In hindsight, the reason I didn't know the whole time was obvious. I grew up in a Christian family with traditional values, so I grew up utterly ignorant to all people different than me, not just the LGBTQ+ ones. I was so sheltered I just figured everyone felt like I did, so I barely registered it—it was just a regular aspect of being a "girl".
In fact, I was just as hypocritical as the rest: stubbornly homophobic and transphobic of the people I was sure would burn in hell, while my instincts told me that being gay didn't make someone a monster and literally saying I only supported "transgender people who were born into the wrong body".
Big face-palm, I know. But, thankfully, my proximity with the queer community through my gay-side brought me leaps and bounds from that young kid that swallowed everything their parents told them without question.
Unfortunately, I still had no idea what was going on when I made that first conscious shift as a self-aware adult. Then after the initial stent of being definitely male, it started to get even more complicated. I was just coming out of a severe depressive episode, so this hatred for myself was intensified ten-fold, and because of that, I ceased to feel like anything. My gender was mud, and all I could focus on was existing.
It took a while to recover from that, but over time I revisited my journey through gender, aided heavily by Instagram in the true way of the queers. I started following all the LGBTQ+ people I could merely out of pride for my community, but there I began to learn about non-binary and gender-queer people.
Frequent stars of my work with Odyssey, Jacob Tobia, Chella Man and Rin Rodriguez (who also goes by their internet name Gothfruits), were my biggest influences. Through their example I finally realized I wasn't limited to just "A" and "B" anymore.
Once I discovered there was a world beyond the gender binary—and after a lot of time, effort and googling—I learned about gender-fluidity, coming out to myself the day before my first Pride parade.
Even if you aren't queer, I think that journey to understanding is something anyone can undertake and benefit from. But needless to say, that realization brought a lot of relief and even more questions.
For a while, though I didn't know what to do, so I just lived with the dysphoria.
However, once I explored with my style, pronouns, and social habits, I've reached a comfortable understanding of it and how I apply it to myself. Essentially, I spend varying times being purely a man, purely a woman, sometimes non-binary (AKA, neither) and sometimes a mixture of one or more of these.
That can be a bit of a mouth full—especially to someone who doesn't have any understanding of gender—but I'm happy to communicate it if someone is willing to listen. Thankfully, I've been able to come up with a simile that's a little more simple and easy to understand.
To me, the shifts between my gender are almost as if your favorite color were to change regularly and unexpectedly. Mildly interesting to yourself, and the only thing it changes for people you interact with is in the clothes you wear. However, it's obviously a little more complicated than that.
Though confusing and overwhelming at times, it's gotten to the point where I'm not only comfortable in my own skin, but I feel extremely sexy because of my identity. The way I see it, I have a little bit of something for everyone. In the words of my mom Jacob Tobia, "gender is play"; I love being a fabulous femme on my girl days and a pretty boy on my man days.
However, as any trans person knows, being trans is far from fun.
Ironically, most of the discrimination I encounter is from binary-trans folks who are, of course, ignorant of what it means to have an identity that falls under the non-binary umbrella and isn't permanent. Though this doesn't reflect the thoughts of all binary-trans people, it is a divide in the community I've become acquainted with in the worst ways.
Worse, though, is the dysphoria that comes from the inside. My identity allows me to be playful in my dress, actions, and ways of thinking. Although, there are still days where the dysphoria makes me not even want to leave my bed, let alone face the eyes of the world. Those days I don't want to look in the mirror, bind my chest to look less like my sex and unconsciously try to lower my voice a few octaves to strangers.
It's a strange parallel to exist in. From my cynical side, in the words of the lovely Leslie Knope, there are times where I feel like its all bad because I'll never be 100% satisfied with myself. On the other hand, most of my trans siblings live with dysphoria every day, only finding relief after a long and difficult journey, so I try and count myself lucky for my part-time qualms.
This only scrapes the surface of what it means to be gender-fluid, but it's certainly a start for anyone who is totally unaware of this identity. Therefore, I hope my experience answers some questions for some readers whether you're questioning your gender or not, or at least sparked your interest in transgender lives a bit.
If Someone Checks Your Racism You're Not The Victim Here, So Here Are Some Tips For Not Acting Like It Either
The way you react to being accused of racism can have a bigger affect than the ignorance in the first place, so here's how to respond in those situations.
Psychology Today defines a "Microaggression" as "everyday verbal, nonverbal, and environmental slights, snubs, or insults, whether intentional or unintentional, which communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative messages to target persons based solely upon their marginalized group membership." To put it more plainly, its anything discriminatory that isn't 100% over.
With that in mind, it may seem to some that literally, everything is off limits to joke about nowadays. While the '90s and early 2000s was full of fake acceptance cloaking heavily problematic stereotypes, assumptions, and misconceptions about marginalized groups, it's left us with a heavy "us vs. them" mentality, with "regular people" on one end and "snowflakes" on the other.
"Snowflake" is a relatively new term commonly employed by conservatives to mock the emerging atmosphere of political correctness, "safe spaces" and the uphill battle minorities face in pursuit of equal rights.
The reason for this, among other things, is the fact that the emerging adult community was raised in the above mentioned standards that were upheld in the '90s and early 2000s. Therefore, we're left with people who think they can, and should get away with anything so long as they aren't waving a Nazi flag or sporting white sheets over their heads.
Studies confirm that many people harbor unconscious racial biases, whether or not they would classify as a full-blown racist.The thoroughly depressing reality of that aside, that along with white guilt, or a sense of shame white people may experience considering the demographic's historical treatment of people of color and other minority peoples, can make racial issues exceptionally difficult to talk about.
With lack of communication comes inevitable ignorance of how a comment, action or opinion may be considered offensive to a marginalized person, leaving many social interactions with both parties angry, sad or even fearful from its outcome.
Ignorance is often not the explicit fault of the ignorant person. However, the problem with today's society is not solely ignorance, nor that people are too sensitive all of a sudden.
For the first time in the nation's history, the social climate allows minority people to be emboldened enough to call people out on their racism. This is a massive societal win for many marginalized groups who no longer have to stand in as a token for their demographic so corporations can meet their diversity quota.
Although, it was clearly not something the bulk of the nation was prepared for.
With the mixture of this newfound liberation for minority groups, an ignorance that has spanned centuries and how difficult people find it to communicate about racial issues, we have the perfect storm for someone to go on the defense instead of treating the accusation of racism as a learning experience.
Thankfully, the concepts behind responding in an appropriate way are pretty straight forward.
1. You Are Not The Victim Here.
There are too many people who get accused of saying something offensive, then immediately go on the defensive. This gets everyone absolutely nowhere.
It probably really sucks to feel like someone thinks you're a terrible person, especially when you didn't realize you were in the wrong. Considering America's history with racism, being singled out for contributing to that is going to bring up a lot of feelings. So naturally, people may turn to arguing and making excuses for the terrible thing they did or said.
The pro-level of this reaction is when a person points out something ignorant or discriminatory, then the accused starts crying.
This immediately takes the attention off of the victim and onto the offender, because the offender then needs to be consoled before any progress in the interaction is made.
Any of these reactions, or feeling that someone is being "mean" to you by checking your ignorance, is a product of white privilege. So, if you care about being a good ally to the marginalized section of our community, its best to save the crying or yelling as a last resort.
2. Apologize First.
Do not pass go, do not collect $200.
Apologizing first, even if you don't understand what you've done, keeps all doors of communication open so you can dig deeper into the situation a little more.
Even if you don't feel remorse—out of ignorance, stubbornness or skepticism—apologizing first acknowledges that they are a human that deserves respect which you've just violated somehow.
Here our pre-school days come in handy, as we can all do well to "treat other's like we want to be treated". Think on how you'd feel if someone disrespected you in the middle of your day, then that empathy should be applied to whomever you've hurt.
If the accused responds in any way besides this, the opportunity for fixing things is annihilated, and the hurt that you both are feeling has no chance of being relieved. Granted, after an apology has been issued and a conversation follows, you might still feel that you're in the right or feel bad in general. However, you still did your best to alleviate some of their discomforts, maintained the cordiality of the relationship and know how to avoid similar situations in the future.
3. Prove To Yourself And Them You're Not A Bad Person
I'm multiracial but look white as hell. I was ignorant as hell as a kid. I've been there where something you said offended when it was clearly not your intention. In fact, in the case of microaggressions, the intent is often not to offend.
So, now it's your job to do your best to prove to them and yourself that you're not a bad person.
The only way to accomplish this is by listening.
Listening to why they were offended, why its a problem and asking questions about the reasons behind it or how to avoid repeating the mistake in the future is the key to growing. And consequentially you might get to learn something that day, which everyone should be thankful for.
Facing these interactions humbly and with an open mind encouraged growth as well as learning, so even though you may feel like crap, this opportunity is definitely a good one.
4. Follow Through
After the badness has happened and been pointed out, an apology has been made and a conversation has been had, the effect of the situation should not end there.
If you're still a little unclear on the offense or want more information, take it upon yourself to watch a Ted Talk or two to keep the conversation going internally.
Then, it's important to actually apply what you've learned to your thoughts, words, and actions. Once it's been pointed out its much easier to identify discriminatory lines of thinking, reconsider previous opinions and even reevaluate how ignorance might be applied to other areas that you hadn't thought of.
If you feel they might still be upset, especially if they're someone you run into often or work with, a check in can go a long way, too. A simple "Hey, I just wanted to make sure you're still OK after the other day" can easy any resentment that might be lingering. Even if that still doesn't fix things, you know you've done everything in your power to make it right.
Even attempting to follow these steps can make all the difference in developing the quality of our interactions a safer society for everyone. Although this may seem like inconsequential in the grander scheme of things, change is truly inspired one baby step at a time, so don't knock it till you try it.