Reflections on Gender, Part Two
I first wrote about gender here. But those certainly weren’t my final words on the subject.
My gender journey continues, seemingly changing courses from week to week. If there is one thing I know, it’s that I can’t count on my feelings to remain the same for too long. I’m calling it a journey for a reason; each day, the scenery is different.
(I have to say that I hate all of the back-and-forth of the gender journey, but fortunately, writing about my evolving self-understanding is helpful and illuminating. So you can expect me to continue to ruminate on gender on this blog. I hope I don’t chase away some of you regular blog readers. When you have fewer than six people read your blog, losing even one person hurts so I hope you’ll stick around.)
When I wrote “Reflections on Gender, Part One,” I felt connected to a genderqueer identity. I was rejecting the gender binary, refusing to fit myself into a box. I felt neither male nor female; I was something else all together.
While I still deeply despise the gender binary and don’t feel that I fit nicely into any box, lately I haven’t been feeling quite so genderqueer. Instead, I’ve been thinking a lot about gender expression vs. gender identity.
I once asked a friend of mine who looks a lot like me (spiky hair, men’s clothes, etc.), “What do you say when people ask you if you’re transgender?” She replied,”I like my parts; I just like men’s clothes.”
Her reply made me giggle at first, but the longer I sat with it, the more it made me think, the more it made me consider my own sense of self. It’s been months since we talked, but I’m still mulling over her words, in part because they resonated so deeply.
At this moment, it seems that I, too, like my parts and simply prefer men’s clothes. I do not feel trapped in my female body; I even like many things about it. I do not feel male. I do not feel uncomfortable as a woman (maybe that’s not true — it’s a little bit uncomfortable rocking my short hair and tie in a woman’s restroom — the looks I get aren’t my favorite).
Being a woman and a lesbian is empowering for me. I’ve long been a feminist, someone who deeply believes in the power and strength of women. And ever since I was in high school, I embraced the word “lesbian” and thought of myself as a woman who loves other women. No matter what I look like in the mirror, the core of my identity is tied to my womanhood.
And yet it’s no secret that I prefer looking masculine. I like seeing myself in a tie and wearing men’s jeans. I’ve never quite been able to figure out why, but I’ve been brave enough to trust my feelings. When I put on an item of clothing that’s made for a woman, I feel out of sorts. My comfort returns when I slide back into my jeans, button-down, and tie.
So what gives? What’s up with me? Why would I prefer men’s clothes if I am a proud woman? If I feel like a woman, why don’t I look like a woman?
The answer I have right now, today (and since I’m on a journey, I can’t guarantee that I’ll have the same answer tomorrow), is that I am a woman-identified person who expresses her gender in a masculine way. My gender identity: female. My gender expression: male.
Does this make me weird? It certainly makes me different. But fortunately, there is a long line of lesbians before me who walked the same path. Proud women who loved other women and who broke down gender barriers, rejected gender roles, and expressed themselves in their own way. I don’t know how any of us found this path, but I am proud to be another in this long line — for today at least.
-Jess
