Why I Identify As Trans and Nonbinary
April 7, 2020
I get so anxious when I go to the doctor now. I used to like going, to feel taken care of, but ever since I came out as trans, I’ve had a hard time identifying and communicating my needs. And I have to be understood and respected for the sake of being taken care of.
Upon deciding to start taking hormones, I made my first appointment with an endocrinologist. On my first visit, he opened the door, greeted me with a firm handshake and announced, “Welcome to the Men’s Club!” He was trying to be welcoming, but it felt really uncomfortable for me. It felt as if my masculinity was not valid before meeting him, as if I had to start hormones before being viewed as masculine. It felt like he thought he had all the answers because he was a cisgender male, that he was the gatekeeper. Throughout my visit, he kept gendering me with “man,” and what I perceived as trying to shoot the shit with me. I felt an assumption that because I’m trans, my masculinity would look like hyper-masculine, bro culture: we’re on top, we’re the men of the men. But that’s not how I experience my gender, or my experience thus far.
Last year, I had to go to urgent care for my wrist. I was experiencing inflammation from work. The physician knocked on the door and greeted me. She looked at my paperwork where I had written in “non-binary” for the box that said gender (not sex) and blurted out to me, “What’s non-binary!? You’re not a computer!” I wanted to retort, “You’re right! And neither is gender nor sexual anatomy. Let’s talk about my wrist now.” But I politely explained that I am trans and went into detail about who I am.
I identify as trans-masculine and non-binary as a both|and definition. I like to use non-binary as a conversation starter, for people to pause and talk to me like I’m a human before any gender comes into play. It feels more comfortable. It feels more natural and smooth to me. Because I hate when people assume what trans means for me. And if they don’t know that it means or have never met a trans person, I like to give a small lecture to prevent myself from feeling dehumanized.
When it comes to a doctor’s visit, it may be important for them to know my genetic makeup for medical purposes. But it’s hard to advocate for myself when there are only two options to check for sex. I have to write in my own option, which feels embarrassing. And I despise when they ask for gender and not sex, conflating the two. I sometimes want to write in “butch af” just to make a point.
So what is the difference between sex and gender? These two words denote separate concepts, the latter shaped by cultural and social definitions in relation to the former.
Sex is an assigned category at birth that includes visible genitalia, chromosomes, and DNA of a person’s body, yet typically the adults present at birth merely glance at the genitalia and make an assumption, leaving little acknowledgement or social space for intersex and trans bodies to develop in the future. Gender is who you feel you are in your body and can be defined as a social construct of roles, behaviors and personality, typically in relation to assigned sex. A stereotypical, Western gender role would be that when one is assigned male, they are a boy, they become a man and they start a business. But sex and gender do not align neatly for all humans, as social and cultural expectations may not fit one’s inherent personality. In addition, gender may not exist as a personality identifier for some humans. In reality, the categories of sex and gender are not exhaustive to the options and expressions of male=boy, female=girl, as biology, culture, religion, ethnicity, locale, and self-awareness allow for an array of genders and their expressions in the world.
When we hear the word trans, most people think in terms of the binary: being assigned a sex|gender (male|boy, female|girl) and feeling like the other option. But a binary understanding of sex and gender does not represent a full spectrum of genders nor represent a lack of gender as an identity.
As for my sex, I am trans-masculine and non-binary. I have a vagina. I have a flat chest. I take testosterone. So my body is a blend of sex traits. I feel like this may help a physician and others understand that a) my body is non-binary and b) that I don’t want to label my sex as binary. Even though I have a vagina, I feel dysphoric being viewed as female, as it does not traditionally translate to having diverse gender expressions with it. Being viewed as strictly male does not feel accurate either. Trans-male feels most accurate, however I do not use this term; I do not identify with the social implications in the definitions of sex. Maleness and femaleness imply inherent sexual roles and reproductive purpose, yet my body is my own. I have never felt like a player in the procreation of our species. I use my sexual body for connection and pleasure. And I enjoy my vagina; I like that I have it. So the term trans-masculine gives room for my trans-ness to exist in itself.
The term “masculine” works to describe my energetic body, the physical reality of me, but it is simply an idea, an image to convey. I feel that masculinity for me is kinetic energy: my ADHD, my creativity, my anxiety, my athleticism are all qualifiers for the capabilities of my body. I have a punchy, busy-body, intense personality. But “masculine” does not have to be the word to use. It could be fiery, intense, dark, mobile, determined, action-oriented. And a butch presentation feels the most comfortable with how I present my inner self to the outside world. I identify with maleness and the roles that people assigned male play in society with the understanding that trans people, women and non-binary people can also have similar bodies and traits. Broad shoulders feel strong and I feel that in my being. A deep voice feels warms and protective and I feel that in my being. These traits are not exclusive to people who are assigned male. And many people assigned male do not identify with these traits. So masculinity as it relates to maleness is simply a talking point.
As far as my gender, I am non-binary, with masculinity as a comfortable centerpiece. I use masculine instead of trans-masculine for my gender because I am not becoming or moving towards masculine, I always have been! It’s my physical expression that is trans, as I move away from or out of roles impressed on me growing up as a woman.
I am non-binary because I am open to the possibility of self-expression outside of gendered language. I want to feel unlimited in how I can express myself. I want to shed antiquated roles and expectations of masculine and feminine characters, yet play in them freely, if I choose. The things I value and participate in do not always align with learned gender roles. I am soft, sensitive. I love to cook. I love to work out. I love to paint and write poetry. I love to be taken care of. I love to take care of others. I love to dance. I love to sing. I feel like a combination of physicality and sensuality. I feel like assertiveness and patience. I feel energetic and thoughtful. I feel like decision and intuition. All in this body. I don’t want to be a good man or a good woman. I want to be a good human.
In short, even if I have to share my assigned sex at birth when I go to the doctor, I know that my body, my whole being, is more complicated that binary concepts we have been taught for centuries. I feel like trans and non-binary are words that help me feel valid, in my society and in my sense of self as an intellectual and spiritual being. I do not feel like I was born in the wrong body or time. I feel that if we viewed queer genders as valid, our genitalia would not define us. I just wish we were not treated in any one way based on what genitalia we are born with. I just wish we were nurtured and loved in a way that is empowering to our innocent selves, whatever that looks like.