It’s saddening to me that people who don’t fit in their assigned gender have to defend their typicality relative to the other gender, and cisfolk basically don’t. Someone who was just like me mentally, but was born with male genitals and brought up as a male, would probably report this kind of discomfort; there are plenty of ways in which I am non-stereotypical. And yet as a person physically and socially female from birth, I don’t stick out like a sore thumb; people (least of all me) do not seem to wonder if maybe I’m really a guy on the inside; no one wonders if I’m overcompensating for something should I spin around in a twirly skirt. I’m within tolerances for my assigned gender, basically. It is an unfairly distributed cis privilege that I have, that this is all the analysis anyone requires of me.
Lucidfox, you sound like you are within tolerances for femininity. Be welcome. Help yourself to your name and your pronouns and whatever bodily interventions are medically available to you.
I don’t really have to defend it when dealing in contexts of interaction where I’m not judged based on my appearance. When talking over a medium where I’m not seen, such as text chat, or voice chat, or phone (my voice is slanted enough towards the feminine range that I’m often mistaken for my mother), when I say I’m a woman, everyone just seems to go along with it without questioning—except in communities that are supremely male-dominated and prejudiced enough to think that no woman would ever want to set foot there, in which case every woman gets skeptic trollposts, not just me.
I’ve even received my share of stereotypically sexist comments, like “Get sand out of your vagina” or “Is it that time of the month for you?” My conjecture is that those who say that seek assurance of their hasty generalizations of all women and ignore all evidence to the contrary. Perhaps they’d be surprised to learn what I actually have between my legs.
It’s saddening to me that people who don’t fit in their assigned gender have to defend their typicality relative to the other gender, and cisfolk basically don’t. Someone who was just like me mentally, but was born with male genitals and brought up as a male, would probably report this kind of discomfort; there are plenty of ways in which I am non-stereotypical. And yet as a person physically and socially female from birth, I don’t stick out like a sore thumb; people (least of all me) do not seem to wonder if maybe I’m really a guy on the inside; no one wonders if I’m overcompensating for something should I spin around in a twirly skirt. I’m within tolerances for my assigned gender, basically. It is an unfairly distributed cis privilege that I have, that this is all the analysis anyone requires of me.
Lucidfox, you sound like you are within tolerances for femininity. Be welcome. Help yourself to your name and your pronouns and whatever bodily interventions are medically available to you.
Upvoted, and thank you.
You’re welcome :)
I don’t really have to defend it when dealing in contexts of interaction where I’m not judged based on my appearance. When talking over a medium where I’m not seen, such as text chat, or voice chat, or phone (my voice is slanted enough towards the feminine range that I’m often mistaken for my mother), when I say I’m a woman, everyone just seems to go along with it without questioning—except in communities that are supremely male-dominated and prejudiced enough to think that no woman would ever want to set foot there, in which case every woman gets skeptic trollposts, not just me.
I’ve even received my share of stereotypically sexist comments, like “Get sand out of your vagina” or “Is it that time of the month for you?” My conjecture is that those who say that seek assurance of their hasty generalizations of all women and ignore all evidence to the contrary. Perhaps they’d be surprised to learn what I actually have between my legs.
And thanks for your assuring words!