Recently there was an article on Everyday Feminism about "9 Lies People Tell You When You Come Out as Bisexual," which I found to be pretty true. If you call yourself bisexual, which I don't anymore, since I find the term misleading and vague.
For the longest time, though, I (reluctantly) identified as bisexual. Reluctantly because of the many misconceptions talked about in the article, and not wanting to be associated with them -- especially the bit about bisexual people not being able to be faithful, since I got that exact (unfounded) complaint from my first two serious romantic partners when I brought up my bisexuality. Combine that with the biphobia in the gay community, and I preferred to not label my sexuality and/or to explain it as being able to be attracted to any gender. But even once I found out there was another word for that (pansexual), I kept calling myself bisexual because it seemed the most convenient and easily understood way to say I can be attracted to more than one gender.
I finally left the label "bi" in the dust when I departed the gender binary in the summer of last year. Calling myself bisexual - literally, attracted to the two sexes (the two most commonly acknowledged ones, out of several that exist) - didn't make any sense when I myself didn't feel female or male. So I finally, again reluctantly, started calling myself pansexual. Reluctantly because I knew I'd now have to explain the meaning of my sexual orientation to just about everyone, and then explain why I couldn't just be bisexual, and then still have to deal with their erasure.
(To go on a little side rant, no matter what EF may say, the term "bisexual" is a little trans- and intersex-erasing, because while individual bisexuals may not be transphobic or have problems with dating trans, non-binary or intersex people, the term itself implies that there are only two sexes, which most people take to be synonymous for genders. If you want to actually show support for trans, non-binary and intersex people, and not just make excuses, use a more inclusive term like "pansexual.")
But the thing that's really invisible is the fact that these labels don't even come close to actually describing my sexuality. I'm not bisexual - attracted to (feminine) women and (masculine) men. I'm not pansexual - attracted to every person of every gender. I'm actually, to make up a word, a queerophile, and when it comes to intimacy tending slightly on the side of gynephile. I like masculine women, feminine men, androgynous and non-binary and queer looking and acting people, and I seem to like to fool around with female or feminine bodies more than with male or masculine ones.
This doesn't mean I'll never fall in love with someone who doesn't obviously fit this description. There are notable exceptions, and also ways that the queer gender expression of my loves has played out in unexpected ways. So even given that, there really is no definite way to label my sexuality. The best word for it may be "queer" - a word so broad it barely says anything.
So it may seem like in the last 15 years I've come full circle, right back to where I started at not wanting to label myself. But this time, it's not because I'm worried about what other people will think of me. This time, it's because I've come to know myself, to know what I like in a partner. A broad label such as "gay," "straight," "bi" or "pan" can never fully capture that, for any person. They may be useful for other purposes, such as activism, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I prefer to just be known as - me.
Thursday, September 17, 2015
What's (Not) in a Name
I recently legally changed my name, and that process led me to reflect on why it is that trans* people can (and should) expect to be able to change their names and have people respect that, while the vast majority of people go through life with their birth names unchanged, no matter how much they may dislike them. (In most places, of course, anyone can change their name for any reason, even just plain not liking it, and some people do, but I feel that most cis people don't, even if they dislike their first name and go by a nickname instead.)
I started to think about changing my name last summer, when I identified as agender. Sometime in July or August, it started to be unpleasant to introduce myself to people with my birth name. It was very clearly a "girl's name," so I felt like it caused people to assume I was female - or more likely, confirmed the assumption they'd already made based on my body (since most people seem to think that's the end-all arbiter of which gender someone is >.<).
So I started going by a different, kind of gender-ambiguous name in September (it's a male name in Finnish, but often assumed to be a female name in the States). But that unpleasant feeling persisted whenever I had to show my ID to a bank teller or nightclub bouncer, or hand my check card to a cashier, or fill out paperwork with my then legal name. It got to the point where I started doing things like saying, "Don't judge me," to a bouncer when I handed him my ID with my girly name on it while presenting masculinely.
This June, I was partly goaded into the name-change process by my girlfriend (risk-averse me had been planning to live under my new name for a whole year before legally changing it) but I'm glad she did because as of last week, the situations where I have to show or use my birth name are rapidly diminishing.
When I still do -- such as when I picked up a prescription under my old name last week -- it's now doubly painful, since I'm so close to almost never having to see or use that name again.
And yet, I have nothing against my birth name itself. For most of my life, it felt like me, and I liked it well enough. The fact that I was always having to tell people how to spell and pronounce it (even though it was only five letters long and didn't even have four consonants in a row like my last name does!) probably contributed to the formation of my stubborn, self-righteous character. (So it's fitting that for my new name, I picked another five-letter name that I'm still having to teach people how to spell and pronounce.) I even identify my old self with my old name, without any discomfort -- it wasn't awful to live under that name, as that person, just different and not wholly myself.
Along with wearing different clothing, styling my hair differently, and talking and walking differently, taking on a new name is and was part of the process of changing how I present myself to the outside world, so that it better reflects the person I am inside, rather than the person my parents or the rest of society expected me to be.
Addressing me by my preferred name affirms my identity. It's like saying, "I see you, I get you, I accept and support and love you for who you are. I believe in and support the way you see yourself."
Refusing to do so and using my old name instead is a way of rejecting my identity. It's like saying, "I don't like and can't accept this version of you. Go away. I want the old you back."
Obviously, bank tellers and store clerks may not even know that there are a new me and old me -- they're just going with what's on the card in front of them. But when they use that old name, along with the uncomfortable sense of being called the wrong gender, it also calls up the feeling of hurt and rejection that comes with people who do know choosing to use the old name.
Parents sometimes feel like they have a special right to a trans* person's old name, because they picked the name. I compare this to how parents view their children's careers. Of course, some parents are determined that their kids will be doctors and lawyers, no matter what the kids want. But our modern conception of parenthood tends more toward parents nurturing children's innate talents and encouraging them to choose the schooling and career path that best suits their desires and abilities. I feel like parents should view their children's genders and names the same way. Just like you can't tell by looking at a baby whether they'll be a surgeon or rock star when they grow up, so you also can't really know the kid's gender identity just by looking. That is something parents ought to be flexible with, not just while the child is growing up, but on into adulthood, since as my case shows, these things sometimes take decades to figure out.
Names are some of the most powerful words we have. Moreover, they're strongly tied to gender and identity. As such, they're one of the most powerful and meaningful markers of the "new," more comfortable and authentic identities that trans* people forge for themselves. It's about more than just the name. Using (or misusing) someone's name speaks volumes about how much you understand and care about that person, and what they're going through. For complete strangers, it's a mark of respect. For family and friends, it shows that you accept and love the person as they are, instead of resentfully clinging to what you wanted them to be.
If there's any magical quality to names, it's not when they're bestowed at birth, but when they're lived, authentically and to their fullest. And that's something to celebrate, not to try to blot out with a name that no longer fits.
I started to think about changing my name last summer, when I identified as agender. Sometime in July or August, it started to be unpleasant to introduce myself to people with my birth name. It was very clearly a "girl's name," so I felt like it caused people to assume I was female - or more likely, confirmed the assumption they'd already made based on my body (since most people seem to think that's the end-all arbiter of which gender someone is >.<).
So I started going by a different, kind of gender-ambiguous name in September (it's a male name in Finnish, but often assumed to be a female name in the States). But that unpleasant feeling persisted whenever I had to show my ID to a bank teller or nightclub bouncer, or hand my check card to a cashier, or fill out paperwork with my then legal name. It got to the point where I started doing things like saying, "Don't judge me," to a bouncer when I handed him my ID with my girly name on it while presenting masculinely.
This June, I was partly goaded into the name-change process by my girlfriend (risk-averse me had been planning to live under my new name for a whole year before legally changing it) but I'm glad she did because as of last week, the situations where I have to show or use my birth name are rapidly diminishing.
When I still do -- such as when I picked up a prescription under my old name last week -- it's now doubly painful, since I'm so close to almost never having to see or use that name again.
And yet, I have nothing against my birth name itself. For most of my life, it felt like me, and I liked it well enough. The fact that I was always having to tell people how to spell and pronounce it (even though it was only five letters long and didn't even have four consonants in a row like my last name does!) probably contributed to the formation of my stubborn, self-righteous character. (So it's fitting that for my new name, I picked another five-letter name that I'm still having to teach people how to spell and pronounce.) I even identify my old self with my old name, without any discomfort -- it wasn't awful to live under that name, as that person, just different and not wholly myself.
Along with wearing different clothing, styling my hair differently, and talking and walking differently, taking on a new name is and was part of the process of changing how I present myself to the outside world, so that it better reflects the person I am inside, rather than the person my parents or the rest of society expected me to be.
Addressing me by my preferred name affirms my identity. It's like saying, "I see you, I get you, I accept and support and love you for who you are. I believe in and support the way you see yourself."
Refusing to do so and using my old name instead is a way of rejecting my identity. It's like saying, "I don't like and can't accept this version of you. Go away. I want the old you back."
Obviously, bank tellers and store clerks may not even know that there are a new me and old me -- they're just going with what's on the card in front of them. But when they use that old name, along with the uncomfortable sense of being called the wrong gender, it also calls up the feeling of hurt and rejection that comes with people who do know choosing to use the old name.
Parents sometimes feel like they have a special right to a trans* person's old name, because they picked the name. I compare this to how parents view their children's careers. Of course, some parents are determined that their kids will be doctors and lawyers, no matter what the kids want. But our modern conception of parenthood tends more toward parents nurturing children's innate talents and encouraging them to choose the schooling and career path that best suits their desires and abilities. I feel like parents should view their children's genders and names the same way. Just like you can't tell by looking at a baby whether they'll be a surgeon or rock star when they grow up, so you also can't really know the kid's gender identity just by looking. That is something parents ought to be flexible with, not just while the child is growing up, but on into adulthood, since as my case shows, these things sometimes take decades to figure out.
Names are some of the most powerful words we have. Moreover, they're strongly tied to gender and identity. As such, they're one of the most powerful and meaningful markers of the "new," more comfortable and authentic identities that trans* people forge for themselves. It's about more than just the name. Using (or misusing) someone's name speaks volumes about how much you understand and care about that person, and what they're going through. For complete strangers, it's a mark of respect. For family and friends, it shows that you accept and love the person as they are, instead of resentfully clinging to what you wanted them to be.
If there's any magical quality to names, it's not when they're bestowed at birth, but when they're lived, authentically and to their fullest. And that's something to celebrate, not to try to blot out with a name that no longer fits.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Enforce behavior, not our bodies or identities
I've been doing some email activism this week -- urging a local Starbucks to come in line with company policy regarding gender neutral bathrooms, and having a dialogue about bathrooms and locker rooms with the manager of the Planet Fitness where I work out. (Company names not redacted because these companies are both fairly supportive of trans* rights, so this is mostly good publicity, and also, you all deserve to know what's going on.)
The Starbucks issue will hopefully be taken care of, as the district manager assured me she'll make sure the store's restrooms are in compliance. (And she happened to be the secretary of some sort of Starbucks internal pride organization, so I'm sure she gets it.)
The Planet Fitness issue probably won't go away, because it would involve building a whole new bathroom, something they're unlikely to do on just one person's request. My issue was that the only bathrooms in this PF facility are in the locker rooms, which of course are divided into "Men" and "Women." As a transitioning trans person, I don't feel safe going in the men's locker room yet, which means I can't use the bathroom while at PF. Like I said in my email to the manager, "that sometimes leads to some really uncomfortable times while working out." :( I also pointed out that intersex and nonbinary people may also feel uncomfortable going into the gendered locker rooms, which leaves them without a bathroom, too.
The manager wrote back expressing general support for people using the locker room of their gender identity, and stating that "Currently there are no plans to put another bathroom in place at this location, but I have passed your request along for possible future consideration."
I would have been satisfied with that result - after all, I didn't expect them to build a whole new bathroom right now; I just wanted to bring the issue up so that hopefully it will happen sometime in the future. Except that, in his discussion of people using the locker rooms based on their "sincerely held self-reported gender identity," he also said, "If there is suspected fraudulent or inappropriate conduct, the staff will request documentation verifying the members sex."
That statement made me very nervous, for two reasons. (1) For many trans* people, their gender identity and physical sex don't match (that is kinda the definition of being transgender, after all). For some people, hormones and surgery can bring their physical sex into line with their gender identity, but not all trans* people want or have access to those treatments, or have completed them to the point of matching cisgender expectations. I'm one of those people - I currently consider my physical sex to be between male and female. Anyway, verifying someone's physical sex would be very intrusive, so my hope was that Mr. Manager had slipped up and meant to say gender identity instead. But that brings me to #2.
(2) Many trans* people don't have accurate documentation of their gender identity. Changing legal documents costs money and often requires proof of medical treatments, which not all trans* people want or can get. In my case, I simply don't feel ready to change the F on my license to an M, and so even though I'm about to get a license with my newly legal name on it, it will still have the wrong gender marker. You might wonder why I don't just change it to avoid potential problems like this -- but I actually feel safer and more comfortable with the F, for now, because people still perceive me as female a lot of the time. Having an M on there at this point in transition would be to blatantly state my transness, and I just don't feel like doing that.
So if someone complained about me in the men's locker room, what would I do? Would I have to bring in my therapist letter or my hormone prescription or something, to "prove" that I'm male? Would that be accepted?
The thing is, if Planet Fitness wants their trans* members to feel safe and comfortable using the locker room of their "sincerely held self-reported gender identity," then why is that identity called into question at all? A self-reported identity is just that - self-reported. You simply take the person's word for it. No matter how the person looks or whether they identified the same way yesterday. Appearance and identity don't always match, and some people's identities are fluid and change day by day.
But what about "fraudulent" or "inappropriate" behavior? I'm assuming that means people claiming to be trans so they can go do unwanted icky stuff in the locker room of the people they're attracted to -- to be blunt, mainly cis men claiming to be trans women so they can go harrass women in the locker room.
It's simple. The problem with that isn't whether or not someone is trans. The problem is someone being a creeper in the locker room. It doesn't matter if he or she or they is wearing a dress or shorts, or has a penis or a vagina, or says they're trans or an alien from another planet. If someone is harassing people in a locker room or restroom, the problem is that someone is harassing people in the locker room or restroom, not that person's identity, appearance, race, religion, ability status, favorite color, or any other irrelevant characteristic. Punish people who are creepers in the locker room or restroom. Not people who are just minding their own business, but happen to look different from other people in that room.
Planet Fitness actually has changing stalls in their locker rooms (at least so they say -- I've never actually been in either locker room there) and so it's not like members even have to be subjected to the shocking sight of genitals or chests that might not match up with their expectations. I know people sometimes like to hang out nude in locker rooms. I can promise you that the vast majority of trans* people will not want to hang out nude or in any other way show their private parts in the locker room. Mostly out of fear of being discovered, and sometimes also out of loathing for their own dysphoria-inducing bodies. They will also not linger to stare at anyone else, but will get in and out of there as fast as possible with as little eye contact or interaction with anyone else as possible. Us trans* folks are much more scared of cis folks, and what will happen if they figure out that we're trans, than they need be of us.
The Planet Fitness manager wrote back to me acknowledging he made a mistake, swapping "sex" for "gender," but he didn't address my concern about needing to show documentation of gender identity in case of a problem. I'm still thinking about how to respond, since this touches on problems central to the bathroom issue. Trans* people should not be automatically cast as the instigator in locker room or bathroom incidents, and should not have their identities unfairly policed, when legal documentation is so hard to obtain. Harassment and predatory behavior are what need to be persecuted, not trans* people just trying to use the bathroom.
The Starbucks issue will hopefully be taken care of, as the district manager assured me she'll make sure the store's restrooms are in compliance. (And she happened to be the secretary of some sort of Starbucks internal pride organization, so I'm sure she gets it.)
The Planet Fitness issue probably won't go away, because it would involve building a whole new bathroom, something they're unlikely to do on just one person's request. My issue was that the only bathrooms in this PF facility are in the locker rooms, which of course are divided into "Men" and "Women." As a transitioning trans person, I don't feel safe going in the men's locker room yet, which means I can't use the bathroom while at PF. Like I said in my email to the manager, "that sometimes leads to some really uncomfortable times while working out." :( I also pointed out that intersex and nonbinary people may also feel uncomfortable going into the gendered locker rooms, which leaves them without a bathroom, too.
The manager wrote back expressing general support for people using the locker room of their gender identity, and stating that "Currently there are no plans to put another bathroom in place at this location, but I have passed your request along for possible future consideration."
I would have been satisfied with that result - after all, I didn't expect them to build a whole new bathroom right now; I just wanted to bring the issue up so that hopefully it will happen sometime in the future. Except that, in his discussion of people using the locker rooms based on their "sincerely held self-reported gender identity," he also said, "If there is suspected fraudulent or inappropriate conduct, the staff will request documentation verifying the members sex."
That statement made me very nervous, for two reasons. (1) For many trans* people, their gender identity and physical sex don't match (that is kinda the definition of being transgender, after all). For some people, hormones and surgery can bring their physical sex into line with their gender identity, but not all trans* people want or have access to those treatments, or have completed them to the point of matching cisgender expectations. I'm one of those people - I currently consider my physical sex to be between male and female. Anyway, verifying someone's physical sex would be very intrusive, so my hope was that Mr. Manager had slipped up and meant to say gender identity instead. But that brings me to #2.
(2) Many trans* people don't have accurate documentation of their gender identity. Changing legal documents costs money and often requires proof of medical treatments, which not all trans* people want or can get. In my case, I simply don't feel ready to change the F on my license to an M, and so even though I'm about to get a license with my newly legal name on it, it will still have the wrong gender marker. You might wonder why I don't just change it to avoid potential problems like this -- but I actually feel safer and more comfortable with the F, for now, because people still perceive me as female a lot of the time. Having an M on there at this point in transition would be to blatantly state my transness, and I just don't feel like doing that.
So if someone complained about me in the men's locker room, what would I do? Would I have to bring in my therapist letter or my hormone prescription or something, to "prove" that I'm male? Would that be accepted?
The thing is, if Planet Fitness wants their trans* members to feel safe and comfortable using the locker room of their "sincerely held self-reported gender identity," then why is that identity called into question at all? A self-reported identity is just that - self-reported. You simply take the person's word for it. No matter how the person looks or whether they identified the same way yesterday. Appearance and identity don't always match, and some people's identities are fluid and change day by day.
But what about "fraudulent" or "inappropriate" behavior? I'm assuming that means people claiming to be trans so they can go do unwanted icky stuff in the locker room of the people they're attracted to -- to be blunt, mainly cis men claiming to be trans women so they can go harrass women in the locker room.
It's simple. The problem with that isn't whether or not someone is trans. The problem is someone being a creeper in the locker room. It doesn't matter if he or she or they is wearing a dress or shorts, or has a penis or a vagina, or says they're trans or an alien from another planet. If someone is harassing people in a locker room or restroom, the problem is that someone is harassing people in the locker room or restroom, not that person's identity, appearance, race, religion, ability status, favorite color, or any other irrelevant characteristic. Punish people who are creepers in the locker room or restroom. Not people who are just minding their own business, but happen to look different from other people in that room.
Planet Fitness actually has changing stalls in their locker rooms (at least so they say -- I've never actually been in either locker room there) and so it's not like members even have to be subjected to the shocking sight of genitals or chests that might not match up with their expectations. I know people sometimes like to hang out nude in locker rooms. I can promise you that the vast majority of trans* people will not want to hang out nude or in any other way show their private parts in the locker room. Mostly out of fear of being discovered, and sometimes also out of loathing for their own dysphoria-inducing bodies. They will also not linger to stare at anyone else, but will get in and out of there as fast as possible with as little eye contact or interaction with anyone else as possible. Us trans* folks are much more scared of cis folks, and what will happen if they figure out that we're trans, than they need be of us.
The Planet Fitness manager wrote back to me acknowledging he made a mistake, swapping "sex" for "gender," but he didn't address my concern about needing to show documentation of gender identity in case of a problem. I'm still thinking about how to respond, since this touches on problems central to the bathroom issue. Trans* people should not be automatically cast as the instigator in locker room or bathroom incidents, and should not have their identities unfairly policed, when legal documentation is so hard to obtain. Harassment and predatory behavior are what need to be persecuted, not trans* people just trying to use the bathroom.
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