Back then

I lived with my then-partner on the second floor of an apartment complex. I still remember the unit number. The tenants who lived above us fought regularly, probably at about the same frequency that we did. Sometimes we fought at the same time.

That was three years ago now. I still remember hearing those shouting voices because they suggested that I was surrounded by danger, both within and around my home. I can’t know if their conflict was violent or abusive, but ours was. The expanded shroud of aggression made it more difficult to imagine an escape. …

The catered coming out story

For three-and-a-half years now, I’ve known that I am trans. Back then, when I started writing about gender, I was crafting the first narratives that would help me integrate my emerging identity into my established self-concept. These stories found roots in dissonance with childhood toys, with my body during puberty, and with the roles I was expected to perform as an adult woman. If only I hadn’t been born in the wrong body, this and similar narratives imply, I would have grown up content with my assigned gender.

Speaking from experience, trans people may be compelled to repeat this narrative not because it is accurate or fulfilling but because it is easy. Easy, at first, for ourselves, but also for the cis people in our lives from which seek acceptance. Especially when initially coming out, there is so much pressure to project a legible new identity, one powerful enough to replace years-, or even decades-old, habits. Coworkers and bosses, friend networks, and families are all relationships in which trans people often have to articulate their identities in order to even be tolerated, much less accepted and supported. …

The past two years

Something strange started happening two years ago. I would be out hiking on a trail I’d never visited before and someone would stop me for advice. “How much longer to the top?” they’d ask, though I was still on my way up as well. Or, it might be a query from a stranger in the parking lot about which distant mountains were called by which names. Sometimes, it’s a small-talk question asked in passing: “You a local?”, “You a regular on this trail?”, “You a [Pacific Crest Trail] through-hiker?” No, no, and no. …

A trip beyond ‘Gender 101’

To my knowledge, there’s now a significant chunk of people (in the transgender community and not) with an understanding that trans folks’ genders are valid regardless of if their expression aligns with their identity. Usually, this assertion means sticking up for trans men who are assumed to be women, trans women who are assumed to be men, and those of other genders who get pulled into either side of the binary. Reinforcing this concept is still vital because many people still, for one reason or another, hold onto ignorance around gender. In essence, ‘Gender 101’ must remain readily available.

At the same time, as those who have read my other pieces know, I am always interested in pushing beyond typical gender discourses, including those that we lean on within the trans community. And there’s a certain loophole lurking within the way we usually connect physical transition to gender identity. I’ve only once heard it discussed. …

Three years ago I decided on a new name for myself. Truthfully, I didn’t (and don’t) feel more strongly about this name than I did my given name. It is useful quite useful, however, not to be assumed a woman every time someone reads my name. I wanted to go by something more androgynous for the practicality of avoiding misgendering as much as possible. I also narrowed my choices to names that were similar to my given name — again, for practicality; the more similar my new name was to my old, the easier people could correct their slips mid-word. …

“GENDER IS A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT!” I don’t know if this ever-present trans rallying cry has been yelled from a rooftop, but I wouldn’t doubt it. From Judith Butler’s theorizing to the ways that gender non-conformists are harassed online and on the street, it is clear that, instead of being intrinsic to our genitals, many aspects of gender are created relationally. But what comes of the societal notion of gender when no one’s looking, when you are all alone? To what extent does gender exist beyond the interpersonal realm?

It’s probably not surprising that this question came to the forefront of my mind during this time of increased isolation, undertaken in response to the novel Coronavirus (just in case someone is reading this in such a distant future that the context isn’t clear). But it was only upon reading Andrea Long Chu’s 2019 book, Females, that I found the framing I needed to write this essay. …

I submitted this essay three years ago (5/29) for a writing course on the tech world of Silicon Valley that I took during my final quarter of college. Those four years were a lonely time in my life, especially regarding the absence of woman friends, and I can tell I was trying to sort out feelings of not belonging as I wrote this piece. I remember the moment of revision when I landed on the piece’s final words, a moment when I realized that I wasn’t a woman trying to figure out how I fit within gender norms. Rather, I was frustrated with gender because I wanted to inhabit an identity outside of (in addition to) that of ‘woman.’ …

For Context:

I wrote this essay in the fall of 2016 for a senior-level anthropology course. The assignment called for an gender-related essay braided with personal experiences, course material, and further research from the field of anthropology. It wasn’t the first time I had written a personal essay for a class, but it is one of two pieces that I still think about often.

In addition to being thematically relevant for this setting, the below essay also holds much personal meaning for me. The assignment provoked me to reflect upon my lifelong gender confusion with new depth. It provided a foundation for my (still subconscious) wonderings about my gender identity, which would rise to the surface about nine months later. …