I can't really speak for any transgender individuals on this site (not only because I am not transgender, but really because it is not my place to do so), but I'm still gonna try and add something of value to the topic anyways. I don't claim to have the most perfect-est understanding of transgenderism or the concept of gender identity so if I happen to be off base in the most horrible, awful way possible I'd appreciate it if someone would take the time to point that out (not that I should have anything to worry about in that regard - people have made some really wonderful posts in this topic <3).
Also I kinda don't know exactly how I'm going to go about writing this so I may adhere to gender stereotypes while trying to make a point solely because it's concrete / monochrome / easy to identify and understand. I also might not, too. Still trying to figure out how I wanna write this as I write it. Let's see how much of my Introduction to Anthropology class I actually retained.
With that said, are you like, literally genuinely curious as to why gender =/= sex? I mean, this is probably the easiest question anyone could answer for you, I'm just looking for a little bit of clarity. I will try to word this in the most eloquent way possible! Gender is a thing because sex can't really incorporate the observations associated with gender. Sex is a biological observation - you are a man/woman because you have a penis/vagina; it is concrete and easy to observe, but restricts itself to solely what's in your pants. Gender, by contrast, is not, because gender encompasses societal expectations and norms in defining what makes a "man" or "woman". As we know, men and women play different "roles" from culture to culture because of the unique expectations and norms associated with gender in those specific cultures (whether or not these expectations/norms/whatever are okay is a completely different discussion, though). I mean, this can even be seen in the way we use the words associated with each gender; "that's a very manly woman", "that guy is really effeminate" - we even attach words like these to objects, actions, designs, what have you. People living in North American society may look to another modern culture (or even a past culture) and think that the women are performing the roles of men and that the men are performing the roles of women, however, this observation would not be accurate, because as far as that culture is concerned, the roles played by each gender are what helps define what makes a man a man and a women a women in that society.
To put it bluntly, from a anthropological perspective, sex is a biological observation, gender is a societal construct, and gender also carries the unique characteristic of being incredibly fluid, unlike sex, which is, as far as I know, "fixed" (for lack of a better term). In that way, gender is psychological (not physical) because it's how you identify yourself and not how society identifies you (which is going to be through what's in your pants and not how you feel).
I could also be wrong about everything I just said, too, though.
If your question is more like "why is transgenderism a thing" well, that's kind of a worthless question. At least, I can't find value in that line of questioning. What does it matter why? What changes by knowing why? Is the kind of answer to that question really valuable?
I guess I could maybe make a personal contribution to the thread as well? My sexual orientation still confuses the fuck out of me, but I'm confident in my gender identity, at least. As far as societal norms/expectations are concerned, I don't identify as a man or a woman. As I got older I started to feel more and more estranged from my peers, guys in particular when it came to anything that wasn't video games or art. I wasn't stoic, or manly, and I had (and still have) a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve and be emotional in my response to certain stimuli. It's awkward for me to try and explain how I feel because I'm sitting here thinking "okay so how do I stereotype what makes a man a man in North American society and contrast myself with it" and I realize that I don't really understand what makes a man a man at all! All I know is that whatever society's expectations are of me because I have a penis, well, they probably aren't being met. It's easier for me to draw parallels with my behavior and society's expectations of a woman - I like to cook, I like to clean, I like to take care of the people in my life, and I kind of imagine myself as the stay-at-home-Dad if I ever end up having (adopting) children. I guess the easiest way to put it would be to say that I'm not a big, burly, manly man that likes to pretend he doesn't have any emotions and likes guns and shooting things and talking about how sexy someone is or is not and all the other stereotypical, disturbingly common stuff that makes me really, really uncomfortable with the idea of identifying myself as a "man".
I guess I don't have it as down as I thought I did. Maybe "more comfortable" is slightly more accurate?
My sexually orientation still causes me a bunch of confusion (because it's not exactly black and white), and I still have a bunch of questions and doubts stemming from inexperience and six or so years of repression for fear of reprisal of family members. While I was younger (and even now, honestly) I had never showed a meaningful desire to be with anyone, like, at all. A lot of it probably had to do with my social anxiety disorder but I honestly had no desire to be in a relationship in anyone that wasn't a friendship. This worried my Dad, though, because I wasn't following however he was expecting me to act, so, sometimes, he would give me speeches or have private conversations with me about how he hoped/that I had better not turn out to be gay. Which happened to make me feel really, really awful when I started having wet dreams that, surprise, involved men. Speaking of which, having a wet dream when you're twelve years old is like one of the scariest things in the world holy shit. My mother, by contrast, was super religious, and I remember the conversations we'd used to have - the most memorable one was the conversation we had where she tried to draw parallels between pedophiles homosexuals (because two consenting adults is totally the same as a rapist and a victim, totally the same).
My first relationship came to me in October of my senior year of high school. A cute, little, Filipino boy, whom I had spent the past few months getting to know better, approached me one day and asked if I would go out with him. I literally had no reason to say no - he was smart, handsome, not particularly charming, but was quiet and dorky (which made him adorable) and most importantly: he wanted to be with me! Like, how cool was that? I remember that the first time he spent the night we ended up making out until like four in the morning after spending the evening eating the dinner I had made for the two of us and playing some really, really bad N64 shooter. My mouth was like really sore the first hour or so into it but I didn't care; it felt really, really good and I loved the fact that I was able to feel comfortable and intimate with another human being (something I had never experienced before). He broke up with me about a year later, but a physical relationship (and a serious emotional investment) still perpetuated for about six more months after that (which, by the way, is one of the worst things I have ever, ever done, and regret a lot). After I decided to live with my family in California rather than stay with him (and with all things considered it was a decision made in my best interest - I had no job, I couldn't drive and Louisiana has no bus system, I was going to school online, I didn't exactly know how to live in the world, and, to top it off, it's not like my family was in an arm's reach if something happened to me or them) he suffered an emotional breakdown that spanned over a few weeks and completely destroyed any hope I had of salvaging a friendship out of it, which hurt. A lot. He was someone I was very close with and still love very dearly. He was someone I didn't want to leave my life, someone I wanted to stay in my life any way I could keep him, and while I forgave a lot of flaws I probably would never have forgiven in other people, I don't think I can forgive him for what transpired during that time. I'll always remember him fondly, though, because he's the person that made me realize that I really, really don't want to be alone for the rest of my life.
Haha, but I think this is the wrong topic for that! Getting a boyfriend made me want to start coming out of the closet, though. The first people I came out to were some good friends online. The first person I came out to in real life was my good friend, Alex, who I met during our Junior Year chemistry class. Having been born and raised in the bible belt of Louisiana, I didn't know what to expect out of him, honestly. It was a very interesting reaction. He was kind of flabbergasted - he couldn't quite wrap his head around it at first. To him, I was a good person, so it didn't make sense that I was gay - only bad people without a moral compass are gay. We had quite the conversation that night, though, walking around the golf course in the dark. Initially he thought that if he brought me along to church that I might abandon my atheism and homosexuality, but, after realizing that dragging me along to a room full of a bunch of people I don't know, listening to some preacher dude talk about why pagans and gays and prostitutes are terrible people, and that doing this made me feel physically sick and extremely anxious was probably not the best idea in the world, he dropped it entirely. We had more conversations, and he came to realize that your sexual orientation is not a choice and your religious alliance (among other things) are not meaningful monikers for morality. My story probably doesn't paint him in the best of lights, but honestly he's such a sweetie, and I'm so glad to have met someone like him while living in Louisiana.
Mother's reaction was much more difficult for me to deal with by comparison. I invited her into my room one night and tried to introduce the idea by saying that "I'm going to have kids, and they're going to be my kids, but they won't be my kids" (not entirely accurate, because they'll be my kids, they just won't be biologically related to me). After clarifying what I meant, I was met with a blunt "yeah I know". Which was, you know, shocking, but good! My mother knew! That saved me a lot of trouble! At least, that's what I was hoping to feel. I quickly realized that her responses were purposefully choppy and short because my mother was doing everything she could to avoid discussing this in depth with me. The conversation ended with me asking what I should do in regards to coming out to other family members, and her responding by saying that "they didn't need to know". I felt pretty awful after that. I got to revisit these feelings later when my Mother came out to the rest of my family for me during my ex's emotional breakdown in which he was chatting with my sisters over Facebook on their way down to California. Fun times.
I was pleasantly surprised at my Dad's reaction, though. It was pretty much the exact opposite of what I was expecting (considering he's probably the reason I was most afraid in the first place, but I guess six years is a long time, and people can change). He didn't care! He said he only cared that I was a good person who led a happy life. Which...actually kind of pisses me off in a way. Jesus Christ Dad you're such an asshole when it comes to literally everything else; why did you have to say the right thing the one time it actually mattered?
Nothing's really changed since everyone found out. My sisters and I get along and I enjoy using my sexual orientation to poke fun at their love lives. My parents are still constantly tiptoeing around the issue, though, which isn't fun but I suppose I'm satisfied for now. It could have been worse, actually - my batshit insane Grandmother could know!
Reading through this thread really reinforces just how lucky I know I am to have been born into the life that I have. It could have been a lot worse in a lot of different ways - my fears could have been realized and I could have been introduced to a fantastic palette of new ways to feel alienated and ostracized from the world around me, my parents could have had much, much worse reactions, I could have not ever found someone to love (even if it didn't last), or had the wonderfully supportive people that I currently have in my life, I could have been right and my sister's could have been irreparably poisoned by my Grandmother's toxic influence, maybe I could have had more courage earlier on to explore my sexual orientation and been met with a lot of resistance that would have damaged me more than six years of sexual repression, anxiety, and fear already have. I don't know! The list goes on forever, really. I'm so happy to read about those of you that have the strength to do things I never would have been able to do had I been in your position, and it breaks my heart and incites such anger in me to read about the way you have suffered throughout your struggle. I honestly wish the best for all of you. Here's to our dreams for a better tomorrow, yeah?
With all of that out of the way, I have questions for those who know more about / are more comfortable with their sexual orientation than I am! Also, holy shit this post is already almost three thousand words long goddammit I'm sorry for typing so much jesus. Okay, so, I have a few things relating to sex. I really am not comfortable with the idea of penetrating or being penetrated by anyone. I also don't really like the sensation of having my mouth wrapped around someone else's genitals (nor do I like having someone else's mouth wrapped around mine). Penises are actually pretty gross (vaginas are worse looking as far as aesthetics go, though), but I don't have a problem with touching or being touched. I don't know if it's really fair of me to say I don't like these things because I have literally only been in one relationship but I am still really, really uncomfortable with the idea of penetration and I know for a fact that blowjobs are really, really uncomfortable, giving and receiving. Am I going to be able to have a meaningful relationship with another person as far as sexual stuff goes? If I can't fulfill those needs in a meaningful way, how am I going to maintain a healthy relationship? Is this something I should be concerned over?
I have more questions but I have a bunch of other stuff to do and have already spent like 3 hours writing this post.
Also I kinda don't know exactly how I'm going to go about writing this so I may adhere to gender stereotypes while trying to make a point solely because it's concrete / monochrome / easy to identify and understand. I also might not, too. Still trying to figure out how I wanna write this as I write it. Let's see how much of my Introduction to Anthropology class I actually retained.
Would you care if I asked you a few questions in return? I hope they're not too invasive. You identify as a man, yes? Have you ever thought about why you identify yourself in such a way? Do you feel that you are a man solely because you have a penis? Do you feel that an individual's genitalia is the only meaningful criterium that comes into play when deciding whether or not you are a man or a woman (this may not be phrased in the best way possible but I hope it gets the idea across well enough)? Do you feel that this label is appropriate when factoring in the societal expectations and norms associated with (and often enforced upon) the gender you identify under? If your answer to any of these questions is "yes", would you mind explaining your answer? I know you wanted to avoid going too particularly in depth with your initial question to avoid sounding sexist / like a douchebag, but I feel like if I knew more about why you feel the way you do, or what exactly inspired your line of questioning in the first place, that your question would be easier to answer. One of the things I've learned when interacting with other people (and I have totally done this before, too) is that sometimes you have to ask something really stupid (with a bunch of shitty implications) in order to better understand what you're learning about (and it's kind of important to understand why those questions are stupid / shitty / make you sound like a douchebag, too - the same applies to me, as well!).
With that said, are you like, literally genuinely curious as to why gender =/= sex? I mean, this is probably the easiest question anyone could answer for you, I'm just looking for a little bit of clarity. I will try to word this in the most eloquent way possible! Gender is a thing because sex can't really incorporate the observations associated with gender. Sex is a biological observation - you are a man/woman because you have a penis/vagina; it is concrete and easy to observe, but restricts itself to solely what's in your pants. Gender, by contrast, is not, because gender encompasses societal expectations and norms in defining what makes a "man" or "woman". As we know, men and women play different "roles" from culture to culture because of the unique expectations and norms associated with gender in those specific cultures (whether or not these expectations/norms/whatever are okay is a completely different discussion, though). I mean, this can even be seen in the way we use the words associated with each gender; "that's a very manly woman", "that guy is really effeminate" - we even attach words like these to objects, actions, designs, what have you. People living in North American society may look to another modern culture (or even a past culture) and think that the women are performing the roles of men and that the men are performing the roles of women, however, this observation would not be accurate, because as far as that culture is concerned, the roles played by each gender are what helps define what makes a man a man and a women a women in that society.
To put it bluntly, from a anthropological perspective, sex is a biological observation, gender is a societal construct, and gender also carries the unique characteristic of being incredibly fluid, unlike sex, which is, as far as I know, "fixed" (for lack of a better term). In that way, gender is psychological (not physical) because it's how you identify yourself and not how society identifies you (which is going to be through what's in your pants and not how you feel).
I could also be wrong about everything I just said, too, though.
If your question is more like "why is transgenderism a thing" well, that's kind of a worthless question. At least, I can't find value in that line of questioning. What does it matter why? What changes by knowing why? Is the kind of answer to that question really valuable?
I guess I could maybe make a personal contribution to the thread as well? My sexual orientation still confuses the fuck out of me, but I'm confident in my gender identity, at least. As far as societal norms/expectations are concerned, I don't identify as a man or a woman. As I got older I started to feel more and more estranged from my peers, guys in particular when it came to anything that wasn't video games or art. I wasn't stoic, or manly, and I had (and still have) a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve and be emotional in my response to certain stimuli. It's awkward for me to try and explain how I feel because I'm sitting here thinking "okay so how do I stereotype what makes a man a man in North American society and contrast myself with it" and I realize that I don't really understand what makes a man a man at all! All I know is that whatever society's expectations are of me because I have a penis, well, they probably aren't being met. It's easier for me to draw parallels with my behavior and society's expectations of a woman - I like to cook, I like to clean, I like to take care of the people in my life, and I kind of imagine myself as the stay-at-home-Dad if I ever end up having (adopting) children. I guess the easiest way to put it would be to say that I'm not a big, burly, manly man that likes to pretend he doesn't have any emotions and likes guns and shooting things and talking about how sexy someone is or is not and all the other stereotypical, disturbingly common stuff that makes me really, really uncomfortable with the idea of identifying myself as a "man".
I guess I don't have it as down as I thought I did. Maybe "more comfortable" is slightly more accurate?
My sexually orientation still causes me a bunch of confusion (because it's not exactly black and white), and I still have a bunch of questions and doubts stemming from inexperience and six or so years of repression for fear of reprisal of family members. While I was younger (and even now, honestly) I had never showed a meaningful desire to be with anyone, like, at all. A lot of it probably had to do with my social anxiety disorder but I honestly had no desire to be in a relationship in anyone that wasn't a friendship. This worried my Dad, though, because I wasn't following however he was expecting me to act, so, sometimes, he would give me speeches or have private conversations with me about how he hoped/that I had better not turn out to be gay. Which happened to make me feel really, really awful when I started having wet dreams that, surprise, involved men. Speaking of which, having a wet dream when you're twelve years old is like one of the scariest things in the world holy shit. My mother, by contrast, was super religious, and I remember the conversations we'd used to have - the most memorable one was the conversation we had where she tried to draw parallels between pedophiles homosexuals (because two consenting adults is totally the same as a rapist and a victim, totally the same).
My first relationship came to me in October of my senior year of high school. A cute, little, Filipino boy, whom I had spent the past few months getting to know better, approached me one day and asked if I would go out with him. I literally had no reason to say no - he was smart, handsome, not particularly charming, but was quiet and dorky (which made him adorable) and most importantly: he wanted to be with me! Like, how cool was that? I remember that the first time he spent the night we ended up making out until like four in the morning after spending the evening eating the dinner I had made for the two of us and playing some really, really bad N64 shooter. My mouth was like really sore the first hour or so into it but I didn't care; it felt really, really good and I loved the fact that I was able to feel comfortable and intimate with another human being (something I had never experienced before). He broke up with me about a year later, but a physical relationship (and a serious emotional investment) still perpetuated for about six more months after that (which, by the way, is one of the worst things I have ever, ever done, and regret a lot). After I decided to live with my family in California rather than stay with him (and with all things considered it was a decision made in my best interest - I had no job, I couldn't drive and Louisiana has no bus system, I was going to school online, I didn't exactly know how to live in the world, and, to top it off, it's not like my family was in an arm's reach if something happened to me or them) he suffered an emotional breakdown that spanned over a few weeks and completely destroyed any hope I had of salvaging a friendship out of it, which hurt. A lot. He was someone I was very close with and still love very dearly. He was someone I didn't want to leave my life, someone I wanted to stay in my life any way I could keep him, and while I forgave a lot of flaws I probably would never have forgiven in other people, I don't think I can forgive him for what transpired during that time. I'll always remember him fondly, though, because he's the person that made me realize that I really, really don't want to be alone for the rest of my life.
Haha, but I think this is the wrong topic for that! Getting a boyfriend made me want to start coming out of the closet, though. The first people I came out to were some good friends online. The first person I came out to in real life was my good friend, Alex, who I met during our Junior Year chemistry class. Having been born and raised in the bible belt of Louisiana, I didn't know what to expect out of him, honestly. It was a very interesting reaction. He was kind of flabbergasted - he couldn't quite wrap his head around it at first. To him, I was a good person, so it didn't make sense that I was gay - only bad people without a moral compass are gay. We had quite the conversation that night, though, walking around the golf course in the dark. Initially he thought that if he brought me along to church that I might abandon my atheism and homosexuality, but, after realizing that dragging me along to a room full of a bunch of people I don't know, listening to some preacher dude talk about why pagans and gays and prostitutes are terrible people, and that doing this made me feel physically sick and extremely anxious was probably not the best idea in the world, he dropped it entirely. We had more conversations, and he came to realize that your sexual orientation is not a choice and your religious alliance (among other things) are not meaningful monikers for morality. My story probably doesn't paint him in the best of lights, but honestly he's such a sweetie, and I'm so glad to have met someone like him while living in Louisiana.
Mother's reaction was much more difficult for me to deal with by comparison. I invited her into my room one night and tried to introduce the idea by saying that "I'm going to have kids, and they're going to be my kids, but they won't be my kids" (not entirely accurate, because they'll be my kids, they just won't be biologically related to me). After clarifying what I meant, I was met with a blunt "yeah I know". Which was, you know, shocking, but good! My mother knew! That saved me a lot of trouble! At least, that's what I was hoping to feel. I quickly realized that her responses were purposefully choppy and short because my mother was doing everything she could to avoid discussing this in depth with me. The conversation ended with me asking what I should do in regards to coming out to other family members, and her responding by saying that "they didn't need to know". I felt pretty awful after that. I got to revisit these feelings later when my Mother came out to the rest of my family for me during my ex's emotional breakdown in which he was chatting with my sisters over Facebook on their way down to California. Fun times.
I was pleasantly surprised at my Dad's reaction, though. It was pretty much the exact opposite of what I was expecting (considering he's probably the reason I was most afraid in the first place, but I guess six years is a long time, and people can change). He didn't care! He said he only cared that I was a good person who led a happy life. Which...actually kind of pisses me off in a way. Jesus Christ Dad you're such an asshole when it comes to literally everything else; why did you have to say the right thing the one time it actually mattered?
Nothing's really changed since everyone found out. My sisters and I get along and I enjoy using my sexual orientation to poke fun at their love lives. My parents are still constantly tiptoeing around the issue, though, which isn't fun but I suppose I'm satisfied for now. It could have been worse, actually - my batshit insane Grandmother could know!
Reading through this thread really reinforces just how lucky I know I am to have been born into the life that I have. It could have been a lot worse in a lot of different ways - my fears could have been realized and I could have been introduced to a fantastic palette of new ways to feel alienated and ostracized from the world around me, my parents could have had much, much worse reactions, I could have not ever found someone to love (even if it didn't last), or had the wonderfully supportive people that I currently have in my life, I could have been right and my sister's could have been irreparably poisoned by my Grandmother's toxic influence, maybe I could have had more courage earlier on to explore my sexual orientation and been met with a lot of resistance that would have damaged me more than six years of sexual repression, anxiety, and fear already have. I don't know! The list goes on forever, really. I'm so happy to read about those of you that have the strength to do things I never would have been able to do had I been in your position, and it breaks my heart and incites such anger in me to read about the way you have suffered throughout your struggle. I honestly wish the best for all of you. Here's to our dreams for a better tomorrow, yeah?
With all of that out of the way, I have questions for those who know more about / are more comfortable with their sexual orientation than I am! Also, holy shit this post is already almost three thousand words long goddammit I'm sorry for typing so much jesus. Okay, so, I have a few things relating to sex. I really am not comfortable with the idea of penetrating or being penetrated by anyone. I also don't really like the sensation of having my mouth wrapped around someone else's genitals (nor do I like having someone else's mouth wrapped around mine). Penises are actually pretty gross (vaginas are worse looking as far as aesthetics go, though), but I don't have a problem with touching or being touched. I don't know if it's really fair of me to say I don't like these things because I have literally only been in one relationship but I am still really, really uncomfortable with the idea of penetration and I know for a fact that blowjobs are really, really uncomfortable, giving and receiving. Am I going to be able to have a meaningful relationship with another person as far as sexual stuff goes? If I can't fulfill those needs in a meaningful way, how am I going to maintain a healthy relationship? Is this something I should be concerned over?
I have more questions but I have a bunch of other stuff to do and have already spent like 3 hours writing this post.
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