A Man & Mirrors: Reflections On Gender

Was I really born in the wrong body?

This is a question that has recently set up camp in my mind and invited all of its friends.

When I first realized that I identified as a transman, everything fell so neatly into place. It’s really very simple to jump out of one box and into the next; I went from “not-really-a-girl girl” to “a man trapped in a woman’s body”. It suddenly became clear to me what had to be done to remedy my “situation”: I would cut my hair, temporarily bind my busty chest until I could afford a double-mastectomy, then, eventually, I’d start taking proper testosterone injections, marvel at the deepening of my voice and the development of a much desired five o’clock shadow on my soon-to-be-prominent jawline.

I had a linear trajectory shooting straight towards an ideal image of the body I should have had all along.

Until now.

I tell you, folks, it’s endlessly puzzling to question your own certainty. With every passing day, I grow ever more aware of how these tidily juxtaposed boxes have failed me. Yes, it is simple to jump from one box to the next, but to actually fit inside of one? That’s the daunting part. I feel I’ve been swallowed whole by my own insatiable yet impossible desire to fit comfortably into the bottomless cakehole that is “gender”. The worst part? There’s no cake.

Not for me, anyway.

But if I am so unsettled by these labels, why do I so strongly identify as a transman? I believe the answer is unequivocally simple, but because we are so burdened with the taken-for-granted task of assigning higher meaning to everything, simplicity becomes a royal bitch and Purpose transforms into that elusive self-made creature that ravenously feeds on our energies.

Will I spend the rest of my days telling myself that I was born in the wrong body to cope with the reality that I am not the kind of man others expect to encounter?

Let me ask you something: have you ever stood in between two mirrors and gazed with wonderment at the seemingly endless corridors of your own reflections? Have you danced or made faces, watching intently to see if one of those reflections did not make the face you just did or stood still while you danced like a fool?

That’s exactly what it’s like for me to look into the eyes of another person. I see myself glistening there on the surface of that judgmental gelatin and the image reflected in my eyes mirrors that of theirs, only this mirror does not mimic my expression. This mirror can think for itself. This mirror shows me what it wants to see.

I know, to some extent, who I am, but my reflection varies from Mirror to Mirror and that insurmountable variation — those innumerable faces that I cannot recognize as my own — is enough to drive me mad with longing for the corporeal ideal of “manhood”, enough to consume me with one solitary haunting question: “Why don’t I look the way I feel inside?”

I suppose the overall point I am attempting to make is maddeningly simple: there is no greater reason I identify as a transman. I am not trapped in the “wrong” body. In fact, I am exactly in the body in which I was born. This is neither an existential crisis, nor an identity crisis for that matter. I was born under the wrong label, in the wrong box, and that’s hardly the same thing. I was (up until very recently) trapped in my own belief that this body cannot possibly belong to a man because of its assigned femininity, but whatever I choose to do with my body, no matter how freely I decide to express my identity, and regardless of what I see reflected in the eyes of others, my identity is inevitably unfaltering.

You see, mirrors can only show us so much. I learn no more about myself peering at my reflection in a standard mirror than staring into a more cognizant one that projects, rather than reflects.

Admittedly, I don’t have an answer for every question that makes me uncomfortable. But one thing I can say is that gender, however we choose to view it, matters to most of us whether we exist within its ever-expanding spectrum or outside of it entirely. It matters to us because we created it, because it is real to us in its presence as a social construct and a possible pillar of one’s identity.

Though it consumes me, it means something to me to identify as a male. What exactly? I have no clue, but that’s more than all right for now.

I’ll take one epiphany at a time, thank you.

Sincerely reflecting,
Lore

“Trans* on the Side”: Misconceptions of the So-Called “Trans* Phenomenon”

What, no “Phenomenon” checkbox?

I’ve had it up to here (hand hovering slightly above my head) with the grand assumptions people make about the motives behind one’s open expression of trans* identity. Speculation is never a bad thing. Presumption, on the other fed-up hand, is.

Nevertheless, we live in a society that signifies gender as a vital component of identity formation. It is therefore important to contextualize the following discussion as relevant to this society and the way gender has been shaped over the course of our evolution.

So, what is it about transgenderism — among other forms of trans* identities — that incites an almost immediate and dismissive response?

A sizable portion of these cocksure hypotheses on the nature of transgenderism is put forth by cisgender individuals, as their discourse comes from a place of social privilege. Many cisgender people have never had to question their assigned gender at birth, making it difficult to perceive the existence of other gender identities beyond the socially imposed normative state of cisgenderism. Thus, the notion of trans* as a “social phenomenon” is conceived.

A phenomenon, by definition, is “a fact or situation that is observed to exist or happen, especially one whose cause or explanation is in question.” As I said earlier, speculation on the existence of transgenderism is not without its merits, but why must we consistently overlook to pay the same amount of analytic attention to cisgenderism, more specifically to gender as a whole?

Cisnormativity, that’s why.

The problem (and yes, there is a problem) lies in the view that trans* is an emergent property — that which emerges from something else — of cisgenderism; that trans* identity cannot possibly exist independent of an essential precursor: cisgenderism. Having such a view leads to the assumption that trans* is a developed deviation from the norm which consequently leads to the mislabeling of trans* as a social “phenomenon” rather than its own separate identity. Speaking strictly of transgenderism, this line of reasoning suggests that a person is cisgender before they identify as transgender. Trans* is not a consequence of imposed cisgenderism; it is gender and is every bit as valid as cisgenderism.

Let’s get right down to some of the more common misconceptions concerning trans* identity…


1. Gender expression reflects gender identity, and vice versa.

False.

This is arguably the most salient point I will have to make throughout this entire post. Gender expression relies heavily on the physical representation of the gender binary, commonly viewed as an either-or expression of “masculinity” and “femininity”. Physical traits that we assign the genders “male” (short hair, masculine apparel, flat chest, facial hair, etc.) and “female” (long hair, feminine clothes, make-up, breasts, etc.) are not attributes that those born male and female innately desire.

We are not all born with some sort of mental hard-wiring which results in a natural predilection towards a specific form of gender expression corresponding to our physiological sex. The rigid construct dictating how males and females ought to present themselves to society is (self) imposed, but because this learned behavior is adopted at such an early age from elders who make it a point to drill it into our malleable skulls, we are inclined to perceive gendered behavior as an essential fact of life and not a personal choice.

How we choose to dress, speak, or wear our hair does not indicate the gender with which we identify, even if we do not identify with any gender whatsoever. Gender expression is, as Judith Butler refers to it in her book Gender Trouble, a performative act separate from one’s singular identity (which already existed prior to one’s superficial representation of the gender of one’s choosing).

Drawing on the example of transgenderism can be tricky. The observable shift in behavior and appearance is a personal choice and can, at times, appear to reinforce the gender binary that assigns socially appropriate behaviors for males and females. That I choose to have short hair and bind my breasts does, to some extent, relate to my identification as a male. However, I have admittedly come to realize that my own personal approach to male-gender expression is more rooted in my desire to be perceived as a male by others, for “to be is to be perceived.” Though I struggle to reconcile the difference between identifying as a man and wanting to be recognized as one, my gender expression is ultimately a choice and should not account for the motives of other transmen who may not wish to present their gender identities as I do.

And yet, it does.

A whole smorgasbord of less-than-palatable generalizations are made about the trans* mode of gender expression; that it flawlessly discloses the person’s gender identity, that it hints at sexual/romantic preference, that it preserves sexist ideologies of “masculinity” and “femininity”, or that it diminishes the true inner self in its over/under-embellished display of gender extremes. Whatever the sex or gender, those who do not dress and act in the way their sex supposedly dictates are subjected to terms like “tomboy”, “sissy”, and “freak”, and crude remarks often but not always intended as insults, like, “Who’s going to want you when you dress like that?”, “Are you trying to make some kind of a statement?”, “You look prettier with make-up on.”, “You can be gay, but at least act like a man!”, “Grow your hair longer; you look like a lesbian.”

Dressing “like a woman” does not make you a woman. Acting “like a man” does not make you a man. There is no such thing as inherently “female” and “male” behaviors; there is only what society deems acceptable “male” and “female” behaviors, and the sheer amount of subjectivity that goes into the formation of such associations speaks volumes on the objectively inconsequential nature of gender preformativity beyond society’s expectations. It is, at length, a personal choice that ought not reflect a person’s gender identity, sexual and/or romantic preference(s), or their genitalia for that matter!


2. Transgenderism necessitates sex reassignment surgery and hormone therapy.

Wrong again.

Whatever the reasons, be it body dysphoria or a genuine desire to acquire different physical characteristics according to personal preference, the transgender individual is not required to undergo extensive hormone therapy and/or sex reassignment surgery. It is, once again, a decision which that person has the freedom to make depending on how one wishes to express oneself. After all, we have established that gender expression is not gender identity.

Questions like “Did you have the surgery yet?” come to mind (“yet” being the key word here, as it implies the incipience of both procedures in a person’s life). Contrary to popular belief, not all of us want this. Some who identify as transgender are comfortable with their bodies, while others would rather do whatever it takes to feel more at home in their skin. Referring to sex reassignment surgery as unnecessary “self-mutilation” is unjust as it shames trans* individuals, undermines their freedom to take decisive action with their own bodies, and rather insultingly reduces trans* identity to a series of unacceptable self-harming behaviors the person will inevitably come to regret.


3. “Masculinity” and “femininity” are sexist ideologies that are perpetuated by those who identify as trans*.

There are those who will approach me and say, “You know, you can be trans, but you don’t have to dress and act like a man. Why can’t you just be yourself and be trans on the side?”

Ignoring the fact that my identity has been repeatedly reduced to something akin to a side order of fries, I have to wonder if anyone ever thought to say something similar to cisgenders: “You can be cis and all, but do you really have to act like a woman/man? Can’t you just be cis on the side?”

No. Because when it comes to cisgenders, rarely does anyone think to acknowledge the not-so fine line between “gender identity” and “gender expression”. It seems “natural” enough that those born female present as “feminine” and male as “masculine” to the point that anyone who does not adhere to this strict social dictation, trans* or cis, is immediately labeled a deviant in need of correction or friendly advice from those who presume that identity and expression are so intertwined that they are ultimately seen as one and the same thing.

We must also rid ourselves of the notion that transgenderism is universally hyper-expressive and that, by virtue of being hyper-gendered, feeds the sexist gender binary imposed on us all. This unrelenting focus on transgenderism as the sole perpetrator of maintaining binary extremes in a society that already places importance on gender expression is uncalled for. Those who want to do away with “appropriate” gender expression altogether rarely point the accusatory finger at cisgenders for doing the exact same thing. Although I personally am now in favor of a genderless approach to my own identity expression, this does warrant a hypercritical attitude towards those who supposedly give transgenderism “a bad name” by outwardly expressing their gender identities.

The gender binary exists, and although it is not wholly impossible to exist outside of it, it does not help to push the blame on a solitary group for preserving its existence.


There is nothing wrong with advocating acceptance for the bodies we are born with, but dismissing transgenderism as a disorder which inhibits self-acceptance is a presumption with some pretty ugly implications.

Trans* identity is not just about shaving an Adam’s apple here, removing a breast or two there, wearing flashy nail polish or having a deep voice; it’s not adopted as calculated rebellion from cisnormativity or a means of gaining attention. Trans* identity is, as the name so aptly suggests, a form of identity separate from the individual’s gender(less) expression.

Gender expression is not limited to trans* or cis identities. These labels are important in establishing individual identities as constituents of a diverse society whose normative rules exclude and imprison so many of us, but beyond that, there is just a person with her/zer/his own preferences, and these preferences should not be unjustly used against the person whatever the agenda.

If we want people to accept themselves for who they are, perhaps it would be wiser if we all practice what we preach and accept them without policing their bodies and stifling their individual voices. Acceptance that is biased and selective is and always will be perversely counter-intuitive.

Sincerely “phenomenal”,
Lore