The common justification trotted out (that it’s necessary to include the theoretically-possible transman who somehow can get pregnant and apparently suffers no dysphoria from carrying a fetus to term) is completely daft.
This is as far as I can tell completely false. Plenty of trans men carry fetuses to term. Plenty of trans men carried fetuses to term before they came out as trans men. Plenty of trans men decide to carry fetuses to term after they come out as trans men. A couple of facts I believe about the world that may help you make sense of this:
Not everyone experiences dysphoria the same way and in the same amount. Someone may experience pregnancy as an extreme negative, but have no feelings around facial hair. Someone may desire facial hair very strongly, but have no strong opinions on pregnancy at all.
Some people want to have their own children very strongly, and are willing to suffer considerably to achieve that, even if it means feeling dysphoric for 9 months.
This is the general feeling I get from a lot of this post: it represents a good understanding of the anti-trans side of the debate, and a good understanding of the rationalist interpretation of semantics applied to the trans debate, but it lacks understanding of the experiences of trans people, and it also lacks awareness that it is missing that understanding.
If anyone identifies to me as a woman, the same question and more: What am I supposed to do with this information? What new information has this communicated? Why should I care? Why does it matter?
The most basic piece of information that is being communicated here is that, assuming you speak English, the person would like you to use female-gendered terms (she/her/hers, actress instead of actor, etc.) for her. You touch on the rest with
Perhaps the theory here is there is an expectation that the word woman will (intentionally or not) dredge up in people’s minds everything else tangentially associated with the concept.
and I’m not sure why you discard this as worthless or deceptive. Maybe a better way of framing this is to translate “I identify as a women” to “I believe you will do a better job of modeling my personality, desires, actions, and other ways of interacting with you if you use predictions from the ‘woman’ category you have in your mind instead of the ‘man’ category in your mind.”
Maybe you disagree that anyone in the world could be better modeled as a gender that was not their assigned gender at birth.
Likewise for nonbinary people. If someone tells you that they are nonbinary, they are telling you, “I would prefer for you to use gender-neutral terms to refer to me. If you associate me with your internal ‘man’ category or your internal ‘woman’ category, I believe you will make worse predictions of my actions than if you attempt to associate me with both or neither categories.”
This isn’t nearly as useless as telling someone your favorite shampoo brand. In case you were wondering, I prefer the most basic Pantene shampoo. Now you are able to predict things about how I buy shampoo better.
I am also nonbinary. Now you are able to predict things about how I interact with gender better.
Hi! I’m not sure where exactly in this thread to jump in, so I’m just doing it here.
I like this thread! It’s definitely one of my favorite discussions about gender between people with pretty different perspectives. I also like the OP; I found it to be surprisingly clear and grounded, and to point at some places where I am pretty confused myself.
>Originally you said that my post lacked an “understanding of the experiences of trans people” and I’m still eager to learn more! What am I missing exactly and what sources would you recommend I read?
I’m taking a pretty big risk here, and it may turn out that I regret this discussion or even retract my comment, but: I’m a trans man who’s 33 weeks pregnant. It’s a wild ride! AMA, if you’re interested!
TBC the main thing that prompted me to comment here was
>The common justification trotted out (that it’s necessary to include the theoretically-possible transman who somehow can get pregnant and apparently suffers no dysphoria from carrying a fetus to term) is completely daft.
I think that pretty few people have actually known a trans guy or nonbinary person who was out while pregnant. It’s a pretty socially uncomfortable situation, and one that sort of points a microscope at many things about being trans. Maybe even among the relatively few of us who exist, most of us don’t want to talk about it because geeze, we’re already going through enough. Pregnancy tends to be really damn hard even for cis women. But I actually do like the idea of talking about this on LW in particular.
Thank you so much for being open to discuss such a sensitive topic. If you end up retracting anything, please let me know and I can edit this reply accordingly.
I would first be interested to know why you identify as a trans man generally. Do/did you experience dysphoria? If so, can you describe what it feels like? Would it be reasonable to split dysphoria into two different categories: body characteristics versus social role? How would you distinguish identifying as a trans man versus identifying as a masculine female (as in, what is the line that prompts the “flip” to the other side)? Has your pregnancy changed or prompted any new thoughts about your gender identity?
I apologize in advance if any of this comes across as an interrogation, that is not intentional! I very rarely encounter many people who are willing to engage this topic critically so I’m grateful for the opportunity.
> I would first be interested to know why you identify as a trans man generally
K so let’s start with, “Is it true that I identify as a trans man?” But in fact I’ll look at the slightly different question, “Is it true that I identify as a man?”, because I think that probably gets more quickly to the heart of the matter. It’s at least clear that I do not identify as a cis man.
I think there’s probably some ambiguity in the way “identify” is used that makes this a little hard for me to answer.
On the one hand, there’s how I present myself to other people. I have a strong impression that most people I encounter have this really strong desire to know whether the person they’re interacting with “is a man” or “is a woman”. I have at times been pretty grumpy about this—lately I’m especially grumpy about it when people find out I’m pregnant and immediately ask, “What is it?”, to which I sometimes reply, “Human, I’m pretty sure.”—and so for a while I presented myself to others as “nonbinary”. I think a lot of that was me being like “I’m not on board with how reliant you are on these particular categories, I don’t want to squish my own thoughts and feelings and perceptions and behaviors into whatever this categorization system means to you, and I’m unwilling to enable your application of this to me.”
Which worked out pretty well while I lived in Berkeley. Most people that I actually wanted to interact with rolled with it. Nearly everyone at my workplace used they/them pronouns for me without any hiccups, for example. And there was generally less stress in my life from the particular direction of gender. It was something I could largely ignore, at least much more so than I had at any other point in my life.
But now I live in a different place where many of the people around me seem to really really want to know whether I am a man or a woman, and it’s so very exhausting to be in constant conflict with them about that. I don’t think they know that they care so much about regarding other people as falling into one of two buckets, but it’s a glaringly-obvious-to-me feature of my interactions with them. So it seems like the options that are realistically on the table for me, if I’d rather avoid the constant battle with the ubiquitous social frame, are to either present myself to them as a man (Mr., he/him, father, clothing style, etc.), or to present myself to them as a woman (Mrs., she/her, mother, etc.).
Of those two options, there is clearly one that causes me to feel tremendous stress and sadness a whole lot of the time when I’m around other people, and another that causes me to feel mostly good and comfortable when I’m around other people. So, socially, I tell other people that I’m a trans man, and this works out ok for me. In that sense, I identify as a man.
But there is another way that I think the word “identify” is often used in the context of gender. It has less to do with social presentation, and more to do with self perception. Sometimes when people say that they “identify” as X, they at least in part mean that they see themselves as X. Perhaps they feel like their conception of X on the inside, or they aspire to embody the properties of their conception of X in the way they live their lives, or they feel really comfortable and at home when they imagine themselves as X, or something like that.
In this second, more personal sense, it is less clear to me whether I identify as a man. I think the most accurate description of my current state with respect to this sense of “gender identity” is that I am agnostic about my gender, or that I am “in the process of figuring it out”.
It seems quite likely to me that the question of “whether I am a man, on the inside” is very much a wrong question, that there simply is no fact of the matter to be discovered here.
Yet I am not confident that it’s entirely a wrong question. I do suspect for several reasons, some of them more easily articulable than others, that the question is at least pointing roughly in the direction of something that is real and that actually matters, both to me and to others who have some kind of strong relationship with gender. For instance, I don’t think that yin/yang clusters are entirely arbitrary. I don’t think it’s a complete coincidence that Aztec and Mayan rituals surrounding corn and cacao crops prominently featured the balance between masculine and feminine elements. I don’t even think it’s wrong or dumb or bad that there exist such things today as workshops and ceremonies focused on “the divine feminine” or “the divine masculine”. I personally feel the draw of these frameworks. I feel a kind of illumination and fitting-ness when I think about my experiences through them. And indeed, overall I feel more at home, cozy, resonant, happy, comfortable, when I rest my attention on the traditionally masculine elements of these frameworks, even though I also feel a lot of familiarity around many of the traditionally feminine elements as well.
But now I’d like to discuss another question that is not quite the one you asked, but that seems unavoidable when trying to understand my experience of being trans, and that I think might also clearly distinguish me from “a masculine female” (and here I notice I’m more anxious about getting into hot water, because I’d describe this way of talking and thinking as at best out of fashion, and at worst sometimes seen as grounds for cancellation): “Am I transsexual?”
And to this, the answer seems very clearly to be, “Yes, I absolutely am transsexual”, if we interpret “transsexual” in a quite straightforward way that has little to do with gender and lots to do with physiology. (I think that most “masculine females” are not transexual in this sense! They’re at least somewhat gender non-conforming, but they’re pretty much fine occupying their female bodies. There may be additional differences between me and them, but I’m at least pretty sure about this one.)
Though even with this term, there seem to me to be two categories of thing going on. The first is about how my actual physical body is (or how I plan for it to be). I was born with a typically female body. I have two X chromosomes and no Y chromosome, I went through female puberty and developed breasts and a menstrual cycle and so forth. But I also lack breasts now because I’ve had them removed. And very soon, I will have adult male levels of testosterone in my body, which will probably result in things like a beard, a lower voice, male patterns of fat distribution and muscle development, and perhaps some typically male psychological changes as well (I won’t be surprised if I become more angry, for example). And at that point, it will be pretty misleading to describe me as “female”, and much more accurate to describe me as “transmasculine”.
But additionally, there is the way that I feel about my body and about these changes: I want to be male! And, as a separate fact (not every trans man shares this feeling!), I want not to be female.
I feel so much better now that my breasts are gone. I made the most of them while they existed—I even made money off of them as a professional stripper—but they were a source of constant, low-grade suffering. Every time I paid attention to them, something felt wrong. And they were kind of hard to ignore, ’cause they weren’t small. They were in the way, reminding me of themselves over and over every day, and it just felt bad. I didn’t know why it felt bad, and I still sort of don’t. But it was almost the way I’d expect to feel if some aliens had abducted me and surgically added random lumps of flesh to my body and then deposited me back on earth and wiped my memory. “These don’t belong here. Something is wrong. Get them off.”
And that’s how I still feel about several other features of my physiology. I feel that way about my hips, and my voice, and my musculature (which I have worked very hard, to only somewhat noticeable effect, to modify even without testosterone), and my period, and the truly bizarre things that happen to my cognition just before my period (which I’ll talk more about in a moment). It all feels wrong and weird to me.
But when I wear a shirt that does an especially good job of highlighting my muscles and my chest, I feel happy when I look in the mirror. And when I imaging having a deeper voice, and masculine patterns of hair and fat and muscles and a penis (though I don’t actually plan to get one of those), I feel happy. And I guess it could still turn out that I’m wrong, and I won’t actually feel about the results of testosterone the same way that I feel about the results of top surgery. But I’d be pretty surprised, largely because it seems like almost everyone in my situation does in fact feel a lot better once they’re on hormone therapy.
So in both the personal and the physical senses, it seems right to describe me as transexual.
But the thing is, there’s not a lot of room for nuance in my interactions with strangers and acquaintances. Even if they could easily hold the thought, “This person is more comfortable in a male body, and also they feel kind of confused about ‘masculinity’ but they weakly suspect it’s approximately right that they ‘are a man’ in some sense or another”, it would not be easy for me to communicate that state of affairs, and most people would not want me to try. Given that it’s socially dangerous among some subcultures I often bump into for me to call myself “transexual”, I simply refer to myself as “a trans man”—or, if I seem to be “passing” anyway, just as “a man”. And honestly, I expect it will be awfully relaxing to consistently fly under the radar as simply “a man”, as I expect will happen once I have a beard and a deeper voice.
Ok, I think I’ve touched on most of the other questions in your comment at this point, so now I’ll move on to the topic of pregnancy.
> Has your pregnancy changed or prompted any new thoughts about your gender identity?
Heck. Yes.
When I was planning this pregnancy, I intended to 1) get top surgery first (because I just wasn’t willing to have even bigger and more in-the-way breasts, or to breastfeed, or to deal with the complications that come from lactating without breastfeeding), and then 2) wait until I was “done having kids” to start hormone therapy. I knew I wanted to gestate one kid, and I thought I might want to gestate two.
Now I am not sure whether or not I will try to gestate an additional kid (I’m leaning toward “no”), but if I do, it will definitely have to wait until I’ve been on T for a while (and then gone off of it for six months before conception, as is the standard practice among trans gestational parents). I am not going into another pregnancy with this body, because pregnancy has been even more body-and-brain-dysphoric than I expected.
And to be clear, I did expect to hate pregnancy. I expected to hate getting and recovering from top surgery too; I did that because it seemed worth it to me. Pregnancy is the same. My husband and I wanted to have a kid with our genetics, and this was the way to do that. Creating a new life seems to me like a pretty big and valuable thing, and it seems quite plausibly worth the suffering I expected to undergo. It has been a lot of suffering, and it’s not over yet, but I still think it’s worth it.
My baby bump feels a lot to me like how my breasts did, but way more so. The “alien” aspect is even more prominent, perhaps because there is literally another creature in there wriggling around. At least my breasts did not move of their own accord.
But the effects of pregnancy also seem to be hitting me in particularly gender-relevant ways as well, not just sex/body-relevant.
(And now I’m a bit fearful about describing some of my experiences as “gendered”; I would like to be clear that I’m talking in terms of my own mostly-automatic feelings and associations with femininity and masculinity, and that these associations may be in various ways wrong/bad/inaccurate/harmful. But they exist, and they’re impacting my experience, and I’m going to describe my experience.)
Let me tell you about premenstrual syndrome, or PMS. For me, PMS is mostly a way that my brain is while under the influence of the hormonal changes that immediately precede menstruation, and sometimes last for a whole week. It happens every month, for one to seven days.
What happens to me during PMS is that I feel… “crazy”, is the word I typically use for it. Specifically, the relationship between my emotions and my thoughts changes dramatically.
Ordinarily, my emotions seem to track my thoughts, and especially my beliefs. If I believe something bad is going to happen, I feel scared. If I spend a lot of time planning something and I come to a conclusion about what I will do, I feel prepared. My emotions follow my thoughts.
But during PMS, the relationship is flipped: my thoughts follow my emotions instead. I find myself feeling scared, and then I begin to expect bad things to happen. I feel prepared, and then I believe that I have planned sufficiently. I feel insecure, and I think that my partner is probably angry with me.
I hate this. So much. I aspire to be a person who is exceptionally reasonable, grounded, and clear-thinking. I do not like to be volatile. With decades of practice, I have learned to use my mind differently during PMS. I’m mostly able to act sane, even though I feel crazy (though not always). But it’s exhausting. [Note to commenters who are thinking, “Then why don’t they take [insert birth control method here] so they don’t have periods?” I promise, I have tried a lot of things. For various reasons, none of the things has worked.]
During pregnancy this is happening all the time.
It wasn’t like that at first, but some time in second trimester, it became like perpetual PMS.
Additionally, even though I haven’t lost all that much muscle mass, my body is flooded with the hormone relaxin, which makes my joints and ligaments flimsy. I cannot comfortably run, or use a shovel, or even carry a jug of milk through the grocery store on my own. Compared to how I was before, and especially compared to my husband, I am physically weak and fragile. I have to rely on other people to do things that require strength.
When I imagine that many many pregnant people go through something like this, and then I remember that before birth control, female adults spent much of their time either pregnant or menstruating, some of what’s going on with “femininity” starts to make more sense to me.
I have known trans women who describe hormone therapy as “like a spiritual awakening”. On female hormones, they developed a completely new relationship with and experience of their emotions. They became much more sensitive, much more easily moved, they learned how to cry, they connected with the emotions of others more deeply, they added this whole dimension to their life that was by comparison heavily muted before.
These sorts of things seem to me to have a lot to do with traditionally feminine virtues. Being emotionally open and sensitive, being nurturing, communicating deeply about complex social/emotional topics, recognizing and being moved and motivated by beauty, behaving in ways that are gentle both physically and psychologically, building and maintaining communities whose members are supported and do not have to do things all on their own.
(And I’ve noticed that expectations about these properties are reflected in the ways that strangers, acquaintances, and authors of pregnancy books interact with me about pregnancy. They treat me “like an expecting mother”, which I think is “like an especially hyper-feminine person”. They make a ton of assumptions about what I’m thinking and feeling and how I’m relating to those things. They expect me to already be in love with my unborn baby, to be soft and gentle and nurturing, to be brimming with joy and fear and excitement about bringing a new life into the world and caring for my child. It’s as though they see me a tiny instantiation of some kind of feminine-mother-goddess. I have not been comfortable with this! And I have also noticed that the people and books who have not done this at me are exactly the same ones that say “pregnant person” and “gestational parent”, and they’re the ones that I’m able to make use of rather than rage-quitting out of intense alienation.)
But it seems to me that shifting a brain in that direction comes with costs. For some, the costs are worthwhile. Some people are much more at home in a mind that excels at expressing feminine properties, even if it means access to masculine properties is diminished.
I am not such a person. For me, the costs of this shift are unacceptable. I like to be stable, reasonable, independent, straightforward, and strong. I like being the opposite of on-my-period. I like being the opposite of pregnant. And to me, inside my own head at least, I summarize this as “I like to be masculine”.
So that has kind of clicked into place for me, as a result of pregnancy. I feel a lot clearer about what I want. I’m much more eager to begin hormone therapy as soon as possible, more eager to take a higher dose of testosterone when I do start (I was previously considering a “nonbinary” dose), and more comfortable with the idea that I’ll consistently describe myself as “a man”, “a father or uncle”, and “he/him”. (Though at the moment, I still tend to request “they/he”, when offered the option.)
Pregnancy has felt to me like an overdose of femininity, and now I am done with being a woman.
Thank you for this comment. It’s an extraordinarily perceptive, candid, and thorough look into a set of experiences few are familiar with, and gave me a great deal to chew on. I very much admire your commitment to becoming a parent despite the complexity of your position—good luck with it all, and thanks again for sharing your experience.
Wow! I am so grateful for this comment and the transparency and candor you’ve written it with. I appreciate the time you took to write this out and I have some follow-up questions if you don’t mind.
I have a strong impression that most people I encounter have this really strong desire to know whether the person they’re interacting with “is a man” or “is a woman”.
Have you noticed any difference in people’s behavior depending on what gender category they perceive you as?
Of those two options, there is clearly one that causes me to feel tremendous stress and sadness a whole lot of the time when I’m around other people, and another that causes me to feel mostly good and comfortable when I’m around other people.
What is it about that perception by others that causes you so much stress? Is it because their perception comes pre-packaged along with some erroneous assumptions about you? (e.g. the pregnancy books assuming how you feel about your baby)
And indeed, overall I feel more at home, cozy, resonant, happy, comfortable, when I rest my attention on the traditionally masculine elements of these frameworks, even though I also feel a lot of familiarity around many of the traditionally feminine elements as well.
This might be impossible to answer but are you able to determine which way causation flows? What I mean by this is do you feel more connected to certain concepts because they are coded as masculine, or do you just feel that affinity with concepts that happen to be coded as masculine? You’ve lucidly and transparently described how your cognition is affected by your hormonal balance, and your strong aversion to your PMS mental state, so I’m wonder where this preference cleaves.
It all feels wrong and weird to me.
Similar question as above. Does the discomfort with aspects of your physiology stem from them being coded as feminine? Put another way, if you somehow had no concept of masculine/feminine, would your physiology on its own still cause you discomfort?
This was a really interesting read. I am definitely a person who instinctively wants to categorise everyone as either male or female, and seeing transgender people makes me feel uncomfortable (I don’t know any personally, although I do know a nonbinary person). But I enjoy reading about people’s internal experiences relating to their sex or gender.
Awhile ago, I think you said something like “my gender identity is ‘tiger’, by which I mean ‘if you’re making guesses about what sort of things I’ll do, or what social role I’ll play… the thing where you might have used ‘man’ or ‘woman’ as a heuristic label to inform a bunch of your guesses will be less accurate than if you think ‘tiger’, which includes both a kind of strength [and maybe predatoriness?] but also lithe gracefulness”.
I think Malcolm Ocean chimed in in that (FB?) convo and said ‘oh yeah me too!’ and that made something click in a useful way to me. I liked the definition of gender where swapping in “tiger” was a reasonable third-option (and it felt more useful than previous attempts I’d seen people make to convey some kind of nonbinariness), and having the two datapoints of you and Malcolm made me go “oh yeah I have a pretty clear sense of what a “tiger” is.
I’m curious if a) you remember that, b) does it still feel accurate now?
a) I do remember that. b) It it still seems like a pretty good pointer to a (the?) main way I think of and experience myself, but I want to be clear that I was being at least somewhat tongue-in-cheek, and I would not in full honesty claim that I “identify as a tiger”, or any sort of otherkin.
Thank you so much for replying and engaging with my post, I really appreciate it.
This is as far as I can tell completely false.
I admit I should have qualified my assertion and used less polemical wording in that passage. I didn’t intend to imply that pregnancy must mandate feelings of dysphoria among transmen, my overall point in that paragraph was collateral to that issue either way.
This is the general feeling I get from a lot of this post: it represents a good understanding of the anti-trans side of the debate, and a good understanding of the rationalist interpretation of semantics applied to the trans debate, but it lacks understanding of the experiences of trans people, and it also lacks awareness that it is missing that understanding.
I’m always eager to learn more! I have a habit of finding myself go down some deep research rabbit holes, and this post definitely was not an exception. I made an earnest attempt to find good sources on trans experience (e.g. looking up trans philosophers and reading their work) and I reached out to many people to discuss further. Obviously this is a touchy subject but it was disappointing to encounter so many people averse to a critical discussion on the topic. If you have any sources you believe I should be familiar with, please send them my way!
The most basic piece of information that is being communicated here is that, assuming you speak English, the person would like you to use female-gendered terms (she/her/hers, actress instead of actor, etc.) for her. You touch on the rest with [snip] and I’m not sure why you discard this as worthless or deceptive. Maybe a better way of framing this is to translate “I identify as a women” to “I believe you will do a better job of modeling my personality, desires, actions, and other ways of interacting with you if you use predictions from the ‘woman’ category you have in your mind instead of the ‘man’ category in your mind.”
I admit, this is extremely confusing to me. I’ve met many self-identified women (trans and otherwise) that did not prefer female-gendered terms, prompting plenty of inadvertent social gaffes on my end. I’ve since learned not to assume and to be more mindful about asking for people’s specific term preferences but this dovetails into your latter point about relying on categories as a modeling tool which I already touched upon in my post:
But it would be better for both of us if she just told me this directly, without inviting potentially insulting or erroneous assumptions. To the extent that woman is a cluster of traits, I struggle to contemplate a scenario where communicating the cluster is a more efficient or more thoughtful method of communication than just communicating the specific pertinent trait. Just tell me what you want me to know directly. Use other words if need be.
My kingdom for some specifics! If someone invited me to model their “personality, desires, actions, etc.” based on just their gender category, you’re bound to see my face take on the appearance of a stuck boot-up screen. I’ve tried to really think hard and introspect about how exactly I would treat someone differently based on their gender category and the most reliable heuristic I could think of was “in conversation, don’t bring up video games or guns when talking to women.” Hilariously this guidance is completely off the mark with the transwomen I’ve hung out with. Beyond that very crude and unreliable guidance, I remain rudderless and find gender categories way too broad and opaque to discern any meaningful guidance, unless I want to take a risk with potentially deeply offensive assumptions like “talk about shopping and avoid serious politics.” My question in the passage I quoted above remains.
I’ve met many self-identified women (trans and otherwise) that did not prefer female-gendered terms, prompting plenty of inadvertent social gaffes on my end.
I think that if someone self identifies as a woman to you, and you use a gendered term to describe them (she, policewoman, actress) that is not a social gaffe on your part. I think that it is fine for someone to identify as a woman, but advocate for the use of gender neutral language in all cases even applied to them, but they should not put pressure on those who do so differently.
and the most reliable heuristic I could think of was “in conversation, don’t bring up video games or guns when talking to women.”
I would not make this assumption about cis women, and so I also wouldn’t make it about trans women. If you’re living in two subcultures, one with few trans women but many cis women who this assumption applies to and one with few cis women but many trans women who this assumption applies to, I could see how you would arrive at this and find it doesn’t work very well.
I remain rudderless and find gender categories way too broad and opaque to discern any meaningful guidance
It is possible you don’t interact with people’s gender that frequently, which is fine, but this isn’t true of most people I interact with. Some examples of places where knowing someone identifies as a woman vs. as a man vs. as nonbinary would affect your view of their behavior:
Which bathroom they use, and whether you can go to the same changing room in a pool/gym.
Which clothing they will wear, which clothing they will shop for, and how you should react to them wearing said clothing. (Is your friend being silly by wearing a skirt? probably if he’s a man, but unlikely if she’s a woman.)
With whom they are okay with casual friendly touches (for example, many people are more open to hugs from the same gender)
Obviously, you should ask about these things if you need to know, and I agree that in many cases being specific is important. However, many humans spend a lot of time policing other’s gender presentations. If I saw a male friend walking into a women’s restroom, I would warn them that they’re going in the wrong one. I would do this to my trans male friends but not my trans female friends. Maybe they would correct me and explain the situation. Maybe they would be hostile, in which case they would be rude. And if you need to know, or they need to tell you, they can.
If you’re not the type of person to be aware in the differences I’ve mentioned above, then maybe it is useless to you, but it’s not useless to all people, and the person telling you won’t necessarily know that.
On top of all of this, many trans people are gender abolitionists ideologically, but if they have to choose between being seen by society as a man vs. a woman, they are still going to make that choice even if they wish that society didn’t make the disctinction.
Some examples of places where knowing someone identifies as a woman vs. as a man vs. as nonbinary would affect your view of their behavior:
I appreciate that you provided specific examples but my immediate reaction to your list was one of bafflement.
While I personally don’t care what bathrooms or changing room anyone uses, to the extent someone does prompt a negative reaction for being in the “wrong” room it would be entirely predicated on how that individual is perceived by others (read: pass), not what they personallyidentify as.
Similarly, I don’t understand why I would care about someone’s gender identity when assessing their sartorial choices; they either look good or not and me finding out about their internal identity wouldn’t prompt an update. I recently had two friends come across an XXXL pair of overalls they both managed to fit into each pant leg. I was able to deduce that they were being silly through an astute analysis of several context clues; I didn’t need to know what body size they subjectively “identified” as to reach that conclusion.
With casual social touching, I’ve never met anyone who drew the line based on someone’s identity. If these people do indeed exist, I would be intensely curious to better understand the basis of their preference. Namely: what would the difference be between someone asking for a hug while announcing they identify as Y versus, ceteris paribus, announcing that they identify as X.
To the extent my post had a thesis, it’s that using gender categories to imputing predictions is highly inefficient and a highly misleading sorting mechanism, and that it is generally better to be specific than hope you hit the correct stereotypes in your audience’s mind. The examples you list demonstrate this point exactly.
As a further analogy, consider if a friend were to tell me “I’m not wearing a polo shirt now, but I identify as someone who is wearing a polo shirt, and I am telling you this information in the hopes that you’ll correctly guess that I enjoy golfing.” Why play these riddles?
You stated that I potentially don’t interact with people’s gender that frequently, and that’s probably true. I generally avoid making assumptions about individuals, for the reasons stated above. Originally you said that my post lacked an “understanding of the experiences of trans people” and I’m still eager to learn more! What am I missing exactly and what sources would you recommend I read?
I think that one thing you’re missing is that lots of people… use gender as a very strong feature of navigating the world. They treat “male” and “female” as natural categories, and make lots of judgements based on whether someone “is” male or female.
You don’t seem to do that, which puts you pretty far along the spectrum towards gender abolition, and you’re right, from a gender abolition perspective there’s no reason to be trans (or to be worried about people using the restroom they prefer or wearing the clothes they prefer or taking hormones to alter their body in ways they prefer).
But I think you’re expecting that most people act this way, and they don’t! For example, there are lots of people who would be uncomfortable doing X with/to/around a feminine gay man, but wouldn’t be uncomfortable doing X with/to/around a trans woman, even if the two hypothetical people look very similar.
Some examples of X that I have seen include:
Women sleeping in the same room or tent as this person
Muslim women not wearing a headscarf in their presence
Women going to a bathroom or changing room together
Straight men or lesbian women being attracted to this person
I don’t really know how to explain this any more than I already have. To lay it out simply:
Here is this thing, gender.
Lots of people care about gender a lot
It’s a valid position to say “I don’t care about this thing and don’t understand why anyone else does”
Nevertheless, understanding that people do care will help you better understand why a lot of stuff around gender happens.
Note: I am not trying to convince you to care about gender! I am merely trying to explain some of the ways other people, both trans and cis, care about gender.
I think I finally understand the source of the confusion. Correct me if I’m wrong but it appears to me that you use “sex” and “gender” interchangeably, where a change in the latter is (or at least should be treated as) functionally a change in the former.
I definitely use sex as “a very strong feature of navigating the world” because I can readily point to endless circumstances where knowing someone’s sex (and the likely associated secondary characteristics) provides useful information (height, violence propensity, affinity towards trains, whatever). I recognize that someone’s sex is a dense piece of information to have because it has reliable predictive qualities.
There’s plenty of other traits with similarly reliable predictive qualities and maybe it’s helpful to set aside sex/gender for a bit. If I knew nothing about a person except that they’re a Harvard graduate, it’s reasonable for me to guess that they’re more likely to be intelligent, ambitious, privileged, conceited, etc. Obviously not every Harvard grad fits those traits, and if somehow there’s a grad whom I assume is ambitious and conceited but who idles his days as a homeless beach bum, well the error is on me.
But suppose the only thing I knew about a person is they “identify” as a Harvard graduate. I would like to think that everyone’s first question would be “what does that mean??” and suppose this individual responds with “although I technically never went to Harvard, I am nevertheless intelligent, ambitious, privileged, conceited, etc. and it’s just easier/faster/simpler for me to implant that impression through a single informational payload rather than piece by piece.”
I may not endorse this tactic, but I get it! Of course, the natural follow-up question would be “but how do we know that you’re actually any of those traits you mentioned?” and also “but how do you ensure that you implant the intended impression?” These are the exact same questions I would ask of a trans individual.
There seems to be an attempt to reverse the inference flow. It brings to mind a post by Parrhesia:
To illustrate this sort of semantic ethical reasoning, imagine an ethical vegan who refuses to buy her child a stuffed animal. She argues that: a stuffed animal is an animal; it is wrong to purchase animals; therefore, it is wrong to buy a stuffed animal. If you think in words, then it makes sense. But if you start thinking about reality, you’ll notice an issue. Ethical vegans are usually vegan because they don’t want to cause animal suffering, and a stuffed animal—if you wish to call it an animal or not—does not experience suffering. Whether a stuffed animal is an animal is tangential to the ethicality of purchasing it.
We can apply this framework to any of your examples, and that’s what I was getting at in my post when I’d ask “Why does it matter?” So for example one of the concerns someone might have with undressing in public is avoiding the discomfort that might come with attracting sexualized attention from strangers. A reliable assumption is that the vast majority of people only feel sexual attraction towards the opposite sex, which is why same-sex changing rooms are such a widespread solution to this concern (obviously this is not perfectly reliable, and it also relies on the assumption that same-sex attraction did not exist).
There’s a reason I linked to the Disguised Queries post on bleggs and rubes. The fallacy here would be assuming that the “good-enough” sorting mechanism is the end goal itself, rather than merely a useful tool to get us to our real destination. Unless you keep in mind the root purpose of the sorting mechanism, you risk coming to the erroneous conclusion that vegans think stuffed animals are immoral.
Hmm, no, I don’t believe I use sex and gender interchangeably. Let’s taboo those two terms.
I think that most people don’t care about a person’s chromosomes. When I inspect the way I use the words “sex” and “gender”, I don’t feel like either of them is a disguised query for that person’s chromosomes.
I think that many people care about hormone balances. Testosterone and Estrogen change the way your body behaves, and the type of hormone a person’s body naturally produces and whether they’re suppressing that and/or augmenting with a different hormone is definitely relevant for sports and medicine.
I think that many people care about appearance. Most people’s sexual attraction is keyed to whether a person looks a certain way. Examples include: Straight men being attracted to gay men in feminine clothing, masc lesbians and gay twinks accidentally hitting on each other or even making out without realizing they’re not “technically” attracted to their gender, straight women being attracted to butch lesbians.
I think that many people care about “intent-to-fit-into-and-interact-with-the-world-as-a-specific-social-role”, which is pretty hard for me to point at without the word gender. But our society does have two primary social roles, and committing to living in one social role is important to people. I think lots of people track who is in which social role and interact with those people in different ways.
It sounds like our disagreement is that you doubt that anyone cares about the “intent to fit into and interact with the world as a specific role”, whereas in my experience lots of people care a lot about this.
I’m not really sure the Harvard thing is a good analogy? Consider the following phrases:
I identify as a woman
I identify as a person with XX chromosomes
I identify as a Harvard Graduate
I identify as a Bostonian
I identify as an academic
I identify as a Christian
I identify as a lesbian
Which of those identify phrases mean things? It’s the ones which are about primarily social roles and not about physical fact. I think all of these are meaningful except the second and third.
Now, some of these could be lies, (I could say I’m an academic but not actually care about academics!) but they’re not nonsensical.
Now, obviously, you’ll tell me that the social role is the good-enough sorting mechanism and so we should discard it for better sorting mechanisms involving physical characteristics. That’s pretty close to gender abolitionism, to be honest, and I don’t really understand where you get off the following train:
Let me analyze an example you gave while my terms are tabooed: changing rooms. Our goal is to “avoid the discomfort that might come with attracting sexualized attention from strangers”. Obviously, if we look at all four categories I proposed above, (XX/XY, testosterone/estrogen, masculine appearance/feminine appearance, male-social-role/female-social-role), all four of them have approximately the same distribution of attraction to the opposite category. However, only one of them is directly visible to strangers in the dressing room—masculine appearance/feminine appearance. (We could introduce a new category, penis vs. vagina, but then you’ll have very masculine vagina havers in the vagina room and very feminine penis havers in the penis room.)
I would guess that you don’t agree that segregating changing rooms by masculine appearance/feminine appearance is correct? If I’m right about that, what part of the above analysis do you object to?
I don’t understand your objection to the Harvard analogy exactly, especially since you included it in your list. I also don’t understand how exactly you’re distinguishing “social role” from “physical fact” (which one is ‘lesbian’?) or why identifying as a Bostonian is meaningful but Harvard grad is not?
Given that lack of clarity, I worry we have different understanding of the phrase “social role”. My definition would be something along the lines of “the set of behaviors, expectations, and responsibilities associated with a particular position or status within a group or society”. Assuming you agree with that definition, I absolutely understand why someone would care about wanting to fit into and interact with the world as a specific role.
But desire for a particular social role is not a sufficient condition for attaining it. Babies are a social role. No one complains when they sleep all day instead of going to work, and no one is surprised when other people clean them up when they shit their pants. Babies are treated this way because they’re vulnerable and they lack this capacity to take care of themselves because of they haven’t sufficiently developed at their age. And while age is a really good proxy for self-sufficiency (especially early on) it’s obviously not the only one. See for example how we treat the elderly and the severely disabled. The simplistic analysis here would be to deny a vulnerable person the pampered treatment just because they’re too old to be a baby.
Conversely, if I had the intent to be treated the same way as a baby — fed Gerber and pampered by a dedicated two-person team while I sleep all day — it would be reasonable to ask why I am warranted that role. If I’m able-bodied and self-sufficient, it’s reasonable for me to be denied that social role. You can call this a sort of “price of admission” to the social role if you’d like.
I would guess that you don’t agree that segregating changing rooms by masculine appearance/feminine appearance is correct?
I’m not sure what made you think that? I don’t have an opinion on what the “correct” segregation method for dressing rooms should be; it would all depend on the goal you’re trying to accomplish. I brought up “minimizing sexualized attention from strangers” as just one of many possible objectives.
This is as far as I can tell completely false. Plenty of trans men carry fetuses to term. Plenty of trans men carried fetuses to term before they came out as trans men. Plenty of trans men decide to carry fetuses to term after they come out as trans men. A couple of facts I believe about the world that may help you make sense of this:
Not everyone experiences dysphoria the same way and in the same amount. Someone may experience pregnancy as an extreme negative, but have no feelings around facial hair. Someone may desire facial hair very strongly, but have no strong opinions on pregnancy at all.
Some people want to have their own children very strongly, and are willing to suffer considerably to achieve that, even if it means feeling dysphoric for 9 months.
This is the general feeling I get from a lot of this post: it represents a good understanding of the anti-trans side of the debate, and a good understanding of the rationalist interpretation of semantics applied to the trans debate, but it lacks understanding of the experiences of trans people, and it also lacks awareness that it is missing that understanding.
The most basic piece of information that is being communicated here is that, assuming you speak English, the person would like you to use female-gendered terms (she/her/hers, actress instead of actor, etc.) for her. You touch on the rest with
and I’m not sure why you discard this as worthless or deceptive. Maybe a better way of framing this is to translate “I identify as a women” to “I believe you will do a better job of modeling my personality, desires, actions, and other ways of interacting with you if you use predictions from the ‘woman’ category you have in your mind instead of the ‘man’ category in your mind.”
Maybe you disagree that anyone in the world could be better modeled as a gender that was not their assigned gender at birth.
Likewise for nonbinary people. If someone tells you that they are nonbinary, they are telling you, “I would prefer for you to use gender-neutral terms to refer to me. If you associate me with your internal ‘man’ category or your internal ‘woman’ category, I believe you will make worse predictions of my actions than if you attempt to associate me with both or neither categories.”
This isn’t nearly as useless as telling someone your favorite shampoo brand. In case you were wondering, I prefer the most basic Pantene shampoo. Now you are able to predict things about how I buy shampoo better.
I am also nonbinary. Now you are able to predict things about how I interact with gender better.
Hi! I’m not sure where exactly in this thread to jump in, so I’m just doing it here.
I like this thread! It’s definitely one of my favorite discussions about gender between people with pretty different perspectives. I also like the OP; I found it to be surprisingly clear and grounded, and to point at some places where I am pretty confused myself.
>Originally you said that my post lacked an “understanding of the experiences of trans people” and I’m still eager to learn more! What am I missing exactly and what sources would you recommend I read?
I’m taking a pretty big risk here, and it may turn out that I regret this discussion or even retract my comment, but: I’m a trans man who’s 33 weeks pregnant. It’s a wild ride! AMA, if you’re interested!
TBC the main thing that prompted me to comment here was
>The common justification trotted out (that it’s necessary to include the theoretically-possible transman who somehow can get pregnant and apparently suffers no dysphoria from carrying a fetus to term) is completely daft.
I think that pretty few people have actually known a trans guy or nonbinary person who was out while pregnant. It’s a pretty socially uncomfortable situation, and one that sort of points a microscope at many things about being trans. Maybe even among the relatively few of us who exist, most of us don’t want to talk about it because geeze, we’re already going through enough. Pregnancy tends to be really damn hard even for cis women. But I actually do like the idea of talking about this on LW in particular.
Thank you so much for being open to discuss such a sensitive topic. If you end up retracting anything, please let me know and I can edit this reply accordingly.
I would first be interested to know why you identify as a trans man generally. Do/did you experience dysphoria? If so, can you describe what it feels like? Would it be reasonable to split dysphoria into two different categories: body characteristics versus social role? How would you distinguish identifying as a trans man versus identifying as a masculine female (as in, what is the line that prompts the “flip” to the other side)? Has your pregnancy changed or prompted any new thoughts about your gender identity?
I apologize in advance if any of this comes across as an interrogation, that is not intentional! I very rarely encounter many people who are willing to engage this topic critically so I’m grateful for the opportunity.
> I would first be interested to know why you identify as a trans man generally
K so let’s start with, “Is it true that I identify as a trans man?” But in fact I’ll look at the slightly different question, “Is it true that I identify as a man?”, because I think that probably gets more quickly to the heart of the matter. It’s at least clear that I do not identify as a cis man.
I think there’s probably some ambiguity in the way “identify” is used that makes this a little hard for me to answer.
On the one hand, there’s how I present myself to other people. I have a strong impression that most people I encounter have this really strong desire to know whether the person they’re interacting with “is a man” or “is a woman”. I have at times been pretty grumpy about this—lately I’m especially grumpy about it when people find out I’m pregnant and immediately ask, “What is it?”, to which I sometimes reply, “Human, I’m pretty sure.”—and so for a while I presented myself to others as “nonbinary”. I think a lot of that was me being like “I’m not on board with how reliant you are on these particular categories, I don’t want to squish my own thoughts and feelings and perceptions and behaviors into whatever this categorization system means to you, and I’m unwilling to enable your application of this to me.”
Which worked out pretty well while I lived in Berkeley. Most people that I actually wanted to interact with rolled with it. Nearly everyone at my workplace used they/them pronouns for me without any hiccups, for example. And there was generally less stress in my life from the particular direction of gender. It was something I could largely ignore, at least much more so than I had at any other point in my life.
But now I live in a different place where many of the people around me seem to really really want to know whether I am a man or a woman, and it’s so very exhausting to be in constant conflict with them about that. I don’t think they know that they care so much about regarding other people as falling into one of two buckets, but it’s a glaringly-obvious-to-me feature of my interactions with them. So it seems like the options that are realistically on the table for me, if I’d rather avoid the constant battle with the ubiquitous social frame, are to either present myself to them as a man (Mr., he/him, father, clothing style, etc.), or to present myself to them as a woman (Mrs., she/her, mother, etc.).
Of those two options, there is clearly one that causes me to feel tremendous stress and sadness a whole lot of the time when I’m around other people, and another that causes me to feel mostly good and comfortable when I’m around other people. So, socially, I tell other people that I’m a trans man, and this works out ok for me. In that sense, I identify as a man.
But there is another way that I think the word “identify” is often used in the context of gender. It has less to do with social presentation, and more to do with self perception. Sometimes when people say that they “identify” as X, they at least in part mean that they see themselves as X. Perhaps they feel like their conception of X on the inside, or they aspire to embody the properties of their conception of X in the way they live their lives, or they feel really comfortable and at home when they imagine themselves as X, or something like that.
In this second, more personal sense, it is less clear to me whether I identify as a man. I think the most accurate description of my current state with respect to this sense of “gender identity” is that I am agnostic about my gender, or that I am “in the process of figuring it out”.
It seems quite likely to me that the question of “whether I am a man, on the inside” is very much a wrong question, that there simply is no fact of the matter to be discovered here.
Yet I am not confident that it’s entirely a wrong question. I do suspect for several reasons, some of them more easily articulable than others, that the question is at least pointing roughly in the direction of something that is real and that actually matters, both to me and to others who have some kind of strong relationship with gender. For instance, I don’t think that yin/yang clusters are entirely arbitrary. I don’t think it’s a complete coincidence that Aztec and Mayan rituals surrounding corn and cacao crops prominently featured the balance between masculine and feminine elements. I don’t even think it’s wrong or dumb or bad that there exist such things today as workshops and ceremonies focused on “the divine feminine” or “the divine masculine”. I personally feel the draw of these frameworks. I feel a kind of illumination and fitting-ness when I think about my experiences through them. And indeed, overall I feel more at home, cozy, resonant, happy, comfortable, when I rest my attention on the traditionally masculine elements of these frameworks, even though I also feel a lot of familiarity around many of the traditionally feminine elements as well.
But now I’d like to discuss another question that is not quite the one you asked, but that seems unavoidable when trying to understand my experience of being trans, and that I think might also clearly distinguish me from “a masculine female” (and here I notice I’m more anxious about getting into hot water, because I’d describe this way of talking and thinking as at best out of fashion, and at worst sometimes seen as grounds for cancellation): “Am I transsexual?”
And to this, the answer seems very clearly to be, “Yes, I absolutely am transsexual”, if we interpret “transsexual” in a quite straightforward way that has little to do with gender and lots to do with physiology. (I think that most “masculine females” are not transexual in this sense! They’re at least somewhat gender non-conforming, but they’re pretty much fine occupying their female bodies. There may be additional differences between me and them, but I’m at least pretty sure about this one.)
Though even with this term, there seem to me to be two categories of thing going on. The first is about how my actual physical body is (or how I plan for it to be). I was born with a typically female body. I have two X chromosomes and no Y chromosome, I went through female puberty and developed breasts and a menstrual cycle and so forth. But I also lack breasts now because I’ve had them removed. And very soon, I will have adult male levels of testosterone in my body, which will probably result in things like a beard, a lower voice, male patterns of fat distribution and muscle development, and perhaps some typically male psychological changes as well (I won’t be surprised if I become more angry, for example). And at that point, it will be pretty misleading to describe me as “female”, and much more accurate to describe me as “transmasculine”.
But additionally, there is the way that I feel about my body and about these changes: I want to be male! And, as a separate fact (not every trans man shares this feeling!), I want not to be female.
I feel so much better now that my breasts are gone. I made the most of them while they existed—I even made money off of them as a professional stripper—but they were a source of constant, low-grade suffering. Every time I paid attention to them, something felt wrong. And they were kind of hard to ignore, ’cause they weren’t small. They were in the way, reminding me of themselves over and over every day, and it just felt bad. I didn’t know why it felt bad, and I still sort of don’t. But it was almost the way I’d expect to feel if some aliens had abducted me and surgically added random lumps of flesh to my body and then deposited me back on earth and wiped my memory. “These don’t belong here. Something is wrong. Get them off.”
And that’s how I still feel about several other features of my physiology. I feel that way about my hips, and my voice, and my musculature (which I have worked very hard, to only somewhat noticeable effect, to modify even without testosterone), and my period, and the truly bizarre things that happen to my cognition just before my period (which I’ll talk more about in a moment). It all feels wrong and weird to me.
But when I wear a shirt that does an especially good job of highlighting my muscles and my chest, I feel happy when I look in the mirror. And when I imaging having a deeper voice, and masculine patterns of hair and fat and muscles and a penis (though I don’t actually plan to get one of those), I feel happy. And I guess it could still turn out that I’m wrong, and I won’t actually feel about the results of testosterone the same way that I feel about the results of top surgery. But I’d be pretty surprised, largely because it seems like almost everyone in my situation does in fact feel a lot better once they’re on hormone therapy.
So in both the personal and the physical senses, it seems right to describe me as transexual.
But the thing is, there’s not a lot of room for nuance in my interactions with strangers and acquaintances. Even if they could easily hold the thought, “This person is more comfortable in a male body, and also they feel kind of confused about ‘masculinity’ but they weakly suspect it’s approximately right that they ‘are a man’ in some sense or another”, it would not be easy for me to communicate that state of affairs, and most people would not want me to try. Given that it’s socially dangerous among some subcultures I often bump into for me to call myself “transexual”, I simply refer to myself as “a trans man”—or, if I seem to be “passing” anyway, just as “a man”. And honestly, I expect it will be awfully relaxing to consistently fly under the radar as simply “a man”, as I expect will happen once I have a beard and a deeper voice.
Ok, I think I’ve touched on most of the other questions in your comment at this point, so now I’ll move on to the topic of pregnancy.
> Has your pregnancy changed or prompted any new thoughts about your gender identity?
Heck. Yes.
When I was planning this pregnancy, I intended to 1) get top surgery first (because I just wasn’t willing to have even bigger and more in-the-way breasts, or to breastfeed, or to deal with the complications that come from lactating without breastfeeding), and then 2) wait until I was “done having kids” to start hormone therapy. I knew I wanted to gestate one kid, and I thought I might want to gestate two.
Now I am not sure whether or not I will try to gestate an additional kid (I’m leaning toward “no”), but if I do, it will definitely have to wait until I’ve been on T for a while (and then gone off of it for six months before conception, as is the standard practice among trans gestational parents). I am not going into another pregnancy with this body, because pregnancy has been even more body-and-brain-dysphoric than I expected.
And to be clear, I did expect to hate pregnancy. I expected to hate getting and recovering from top surgery too; I did that because it seemed worth it to me. Pregnancy is the same. My husband and I wanted to have a kid with our genetics, and this was the way to do that. Creating a new life seems to me like a pretty big and valuable thing, and it seems quite plausibly worth the suffering I expected to undergo. It has been a lot of suffering, and it’s not over yet, but I still think it’s worth it.
My baby bump feels a lot to me like how my breasts did, but way more so. The “alien” aspect is even more prominent, perhaps because there is literally another creature in there wriggling around. At least my breasts did not move of their own accord.
But the effects of pregnancy also seem to be hitting me in particularly gender-relevant ways as well, not just sex/body-relevant.
(And now I’m a bit fearful about describing some of my experiences as “gendered”; I would like to be clear that I’m talking in terms of my own mostly-automatic feelings and associations with femininity and masculinity, and that these associations may be in various ways wrong/bad/inaccurate/harmful. But they exist, and they’re impacting my experience, and I’m going to describe my experience.)
Let me tell you about premenstrual syndrome, or PMS. For me, PMS is mostly a way that my brain is while under the influence of the hormonal changes that immediately precede menstruation, and sometimes last for a whole week. It happens every month, for one to seven days.
What happens to me during PMS is that I feel… “crazy”, is the word I typically use for it. Specifically, the relationship between my emotions and my thoughts changes dramatically.
Ordinarily, my emotions seem to track my thoughts, and especially my beliefs. If I believe something bad is going to happen, I feel scared. If I spend a lot of time planning something and I come to a conclusion about what I will do, I feel prepared. My emotions follow my thoughts.
But during PMS, the relationship is flipped: my thoughts follow my emotions instead. I find myself feeling scared, and then I begin to expect bad things to happen. I feel prepared, and then I believe that I have planned sufficiently. I feel insecure, and I think that my partner is probably angry with me.
I hate this. So much. I aspire to be a person who is exceptionally reasonable, grounded, and clear-thinking. I do not like to be volatile. With decades of practice, I have learned to use my mind differently during PMS. I’m mostly able to act sane, even though I feel crazy (though not always). But it’s exhausting. [Note to commenters who are thinking, “Then why don’t they take [insert birth control method here] so they don’t have periods?” I promise, I have tried a lot of things. For various reasons, none of the things has worked.]
During pregnancy this is happening all the time.
It wasn’t like that at first, but some time in second trimester, it became like perpetual PMS.
Additionally, even though I haven’t lost all that much muscle mass, my body is flooded with the hormone relaxin, which makes my joints and ligaments flimsy. I cannot comfortably run, or use a shovel, or even carry a jug of milk through the grocery store on my own. Compared to how I was before, and especially compared to my husband, I am physically weak and fragile. I have to rely on other people to do things that require strength.
When I imagine that many many pregnant people go through something like this, and then I remember that before birth control, female adults spent much of their time either pregnant or menstruating, some of what’s going on with “femininity” starts to make more sense to me.
I have known trans women who describe hormone therapy as “like a spiritual awakening”. On female hormones, they developed a completely new relationship with and experience of their emotions. They became much more sensitive, much more easily moved, they learned how to cry, they connected with the emotions of others more deeply, they added this whole dimension to their life that was by comparison heavily muted before.
These sorts of things seem to me to have a lot to do with traditionally feminine virtues. Being emotionally open and sensitive, being nurturing, communicating deeply about complex social/emotional topics, recognizing and being moved and motivated by beauty, behaving in ways that are gentle both physically and psychologically, building and maintaining communities whose members are supported and do not have to do things all on their own.
(And I’ve noticed that expectations about these properties are reflected in the ways that strangers, acquaintances, and authors of pregnancy books interact with me about pregnancy. They treat me “like an expecting mother”, which I think is “like an especially hyper-feminine person”. They make a ton of assumptions about what I’m thinking and feeling and how I’m relating to those things. They expect me to already be in love with my unborn baby, to be soft and gentle and nurturing, to be brimming with joy and fear and excitement about bringing a new life into the world and caring for my child. It’s as though they see me a tiny instantiation of some kind of feminine-mother-goddess. I have not been comfortable with this! And I have also noticed that the people and books who have not done this at me are exactly the same ones that say “pregnant person” and “gestational parent”, and they’re the ones that I’m able to make use of rather than rage-quitting out of intense alienation.)
But it seems to me that shifting a brain in that direction comes with costs. For some, the costs are worthwhile. Some people are much more at home in a mind that excels at expressing feminine properties, even if it means access to masculine properties is diminished.
I am not such a person. For me, the costs of this shift are unacceptable. I like to be stable, reasonable, independent, straightforward, and strong. I like being the opposite of on-my-period. I like being the opposite of pregnant. And to me, inside my own head at least, I summarize this as “I like to be masculine”.
So that has kind of clicked into place for me, as a result of pregnancy. I feel a lot clearer about what I want. I’m much more eager to begin hormone therapy as soon as possible, more eager to take a higher dose of testosterone when I do start (I was previously considering a “nonbinary” dose), and more comfortable with the idea that I’ll consistently describe myself as “a man”, “a father or uncle”, and “he/him”. (Though at the moment, I still tend to request “they/he”, when offered the option.)
Pregnancy has felt to me like an overdose of femininity, and now I am done with being a woman.
Thank you for this comment. It’s an extraordinarily perceptive, candid, and thorough look into a set of experiences few are familiar with, and gave me a great deal to chew on. I very much admire your commitment to becoming a parent despite the complexity of your position—good luck with it all, and thanks again for sharing your experience.
Wow! I am so grateful for this comment and the transparency and candor you’ve written it with. I appreciate the time you took to write this out and I have some follow-up questions if you don’t mind.
Have you noticed any difference in people’s behavior depending on what gender category they perceive you as?
What is it about that perception by others that causes you so much stress? Is it because their perception comes pre-packaged along with some erroneous assumptions about you? (e.g. the pregnancy books assuming how you feel about your baby)
This might be impossible to answer but are you able to determine which way causation flows? What I mean by this is do you feel more connected to certain concepts because they are coded as masculine, or do you just feel that affinity with concepts that happen to be coded as masculine? You’ve lucidly and transparently described how your cognition is affected by your hormonal balance, and your strong aversion to your PMS mental state, so I’m wonder where this preference cleaves.
Similar question as above. Does the discomfort with aspects of your physiology stem from them being coded as feminine? Put another way, if you somehow had no concept of masculine/feminine, would your physiology on its own still cause you discomfort?
This was a really interesting read. I am definitely a person who instinctively wants to categorise everyone as either male or female, and seeing transgender people makes me feel uncomfortable (I don’t know any personally, although I do know a nonbinary person). But I enjoy reading about people’s internal experiences relating to their sex or gender.
Awhile ago, I think you said something like “my gender identity is ‘tiger’, by which I mean ‘if you’re making guesses about what sort of things I’ll do, or what social role I’ll play… the thing where you might have used ‘man’ or ‘woman’ as a heuristic label to inform a bunch of your guesses will be less accurate than if you think ‘tiger’, which includes both a kind of strength [and maybe predatoriness?] but also lithe gracefulness”.
I think Malcolm Ocean chimed in in that (FB?) convo and said ‘oh yeah me too!’ and that made something click in a useful way to me. I liked the definition of gender where swapping in “tiger” was a reasonable third-option (and it felt more useful than previous attempts I’d seen people make to convey some kind of nonbinariness), and having the two datapoints of you and Malcolm made me go “oh yeah I have a pretty clear sense of what a “tiger” is.
I’m curious if a) you remember that, b) does it still feel accurate now?
a) I do remember that. b) It it still seems like a pretty good pointer to a (the?) main way I think of and experience myself, but I want to be clear that I was being at least somewhat tongue-in-cheek, and I would not in full honesty claim that I “identify as a tiger”, or any sort of otherkin.
Yeah (I did understand that but seems good to clarify)
Thank you so much for replying and engaging with my post, I really appreciate it.
I admit I should have qualified my assertion and used less polemical wording in that passage. I didn’t intend to imply that pregnancy must mandate feelings of dysphoria among transmen, my overall point in that paragraph was collateral to that issue either way.
I’m always eager to learn more! I have a habit of finding myself go down some deep research rabbit holes, and this post definitely was not an exception. I made an earnest attempt to find good sources on trans experience (e.g. looking up trans philosophers and reading their work) and I reached out to many people to discuss further. Obviously this is a touchy subject but it was disappointing to encounter so many people averse to a critical discussion on the topic. If you have any sources you believe I should be familiar with, please send them my way!
I admit, this is extremely confusing to me. I’ve met many self-identified women (trans and otherwise) that did not prefer female-gendered terms, prompting plenty of inadvertent social gaffes on my end. I’ve since learned not to assume and to be more mindful about asking for people’s specific term preferences but this dovetails into your latter point about relying on categories as a modeling tool which I already touched upon in my post:
My kingdom for some specifics! If someone invited me to model their “personality, desires, actions, etc.” based on just their gender category, you’re bound to see my face take on the appearance of a stuck boot-up screen. I’ve tried to really think hard and introspect about how exactly I would treat someone differently based on their gender category and the most reliable heuristic I could think of was “in conversation, don’t bring up video games or guns when talking to women.” Hilariously this guidance is completely off the mark with the transwomen I’ve hung out with. Beyond that very crude and unreliable guidance, I remain rudderless and find gender categories way too broad and opaque to discern any meaningful guidance, unless I want to take a risk with potentially deeply offensive assumptions like “talk about shopping and avoid serious politics.” My question in the passage I quoted above remains.
I think that if someone self identifies as a woman to you, and you use a gendered term to describe them (she, policewoman, actress) that is not a social gaffe on your part. I think that it is fine for someone to identify as a woman, but advocate for the use of gender neutral language in all cases even applied to them, but they should not put pressure on those who do so differently.
I would not make this assumption about cis women, and so I also wouldn’t make it about trans women. If you’re living in two subcultures, one with few trans women but many cis women who this assumption applies to and one with few cis women but many trans women who this assumption applies to, I could see how you would arrive at this and find it doesn’t work very well.
It is possible you don’t interact with people’s gender that frequently, which is fine, but this isn’t true of most people I interact with. Some examples of places where knowing someone identifies as a woman vs. as a man vs. as nonbinary would affect your view of their behavior:
Which bathroom they use, and whether you can go to the same changing room in a pool/gym.
Which clothing they will wear, which clothing they will shop for, and how you should react to them wearing said clothing. (Is your friend being silly by wearing a skirt? probably if he’s a man, but unlikely if she’s a woman.)
With whom they are okay with casual friendly touches (for example, many people are more open to hugs from the same gender)
Obviously, you should ask about these things if you need to know, and I agree that in many cases being specific is important. However, many humans spend a lot of time policing other’s gender presentations. If I saw a male friend walking into a women’s restroom, I would warn them that they’re going in the wrong one. I would do this to my trans male friends but not my trans female friends. Maybe they would correct me and explain the situation. Maybe they would be hostile, in which case they would be rude. And if you need to know, or they need to tell you, they can.
If you’re not the type of person to be aware in the differences I’ve mentioned above, then maybe it is useless to you, but it’s not useless to all people, and the person telling you won’t necessarily know that.
On top of all of this, many trans people are gender abolitionists ideologically, but if they have to choose between being seen by society as a man vs. a woman, they are still going to make that choice even if they wish that society didn’t make the disctinction.
I appreciate that you provided specific examples but my immediate reaction to your list was one of bafflement.
While I personally don’t care what bathrooms or changing room anyone uses, to the extent someone does prompt a negative reaction for being in the “wrong” room it would be entirely predicated on how that individual is perceived by others (read: pass), not what they personally identify as.
Similarly, I don’t understand why I would care about someone’s gender identity when assessing their sartorial choices; they either look good or not and me finding out about their internal identity wouldn’t prompt an update. I recently had two friends come across an XXXL pair of overalls they both managed to fit into each pant leg. I was able to deduce that they were being silly through an astute analysis of several context clues; I didn’t need to know what body size they subjectively “identified” as to reach that conclusion.
With casual social touching, I’ve never met anyone who drew the line based on someone’s identity. If these people do indeed exist, I would be intensely curious to better understand the basis of their preference. Namely: what would the difference be between someone asking for a hug while announcing they identify as Y versus, ceteris paribus, announcing that they identify as X.
To the extent my post had a thesis, it’s that using gender categories to imputing predictions is highly inefficient and a highly misleading sorting mechanism, and that it is generally better to be specific than hope you hit the correct stereotypes in your audience’s mind. The examples you list demonstrate this point exactly.
As a further analogy, consider if a friend were to tell me “I’m not wearing a polo shirt now, but I identify as someone who is wearing a polo shirt, and I am telling you this information in the hopes that you’ll correctly guess that I enjoy golfing.” Why play these riddles?
You stated that I potentially don’t interact with people’s gender that frequently, and that’s probably true. I generally avoid making assumptions about individuals, for the reasons stated above. Originally you said that my post lacked an “understanding of the experiences of trans people” and I’m still eager to learn more! What am I missing exactly and what sources would you recommend I read?
I think that one thing you’re missing is that lots of people… use gender as a very strong feature of navigating the world. They treat “male” and “female” as natural categories, and make lots of judgements based on whether someone “is” male or female.
You don’t seem to do that, which puts you pretty far along the spectrum towards gender abolition, and you’re right, from a gender abolition perspective there’s no reason to be trans (or to be worried about people using the restroom they prefer or wearing the clothes they prefer or taking hormones to alter their body in ways they prefer).
But I think you’re expecting that most people act this way, and they don’t! For example, there are lots of people who would be uncomfortable doing X with/to/around a feminine gay man, but wouldn’t be uncomfortable doing X with/to/around a trans woman, even if the two hypothetical people look very similar.
Some examples of X that I have seen include:
Women sleeping in the same room or tent as this person
Muslim women not wearing a headscarf in their presence
Women going to a bathroom or changing room together
Straight men or lesbian women being attracted to this person
I don’t really know how to explain this any more than I already have. To lay it out simply:
Here is this thing, gender.
Lots of people care about gender a lot
It’s a valid position to say “I don’t care about this thing and don’t understand why anyone else does”
Nevertheless, understanding that people do care will help you better understand why a lot of stuff around gender happens.
Note: I am not trying to convince you to care about gender! I am merely trying to explain some of the ways other people, both trans and cis, care about gender.
I think I finally understand the source of the confusion. Correct me if I’m wrong but it appears to me that you use “sex” and “gender” interchangeably, where a change in the latter is (or at least should be treated as) functionally a change in the former.
I definitely use sex as “a very strong feature of navigating the world” because I can readily point to endless circumstances where knowing someone’s sex (and the likely associated secondary characteristics) provides useful information (height, violence propensity, affinity towards trains, whatever). I recognize that someone’s sex is a dense piece of information to have because it has reliable predictive qualities.
There’s plenty of other traits with similarly reliable predictive qualities and maybe it’s helpful to set aside sex/gender for a bit. If I knew nothing about a person except that they’re a Harvard graduate, it’s reasonable for me to guess that they’re more likely to be intelligent, ambitious, privileged, conceited, etc. Obviously not every Harvard grad fits those traits, and if somehow there’s a grad whom I assume is ambitious and conceited but who idles his days as a homeless beach bum, well the error is on me.
But suppose the only thing I knew about a person is they “identify” as a Harvard graduate. I would like to think that everyone’s first question would be “what does that mean??” and suppose this individual responds with “although I technically never went to Harvard, I am nevertheless intelligent, ambitious, privileged, conceited, etc. and it’s just easier/faster/simpler for me to implant that impression through a single informational payload rather than piece by piece.”
I may not endorse this tactic, but I get it! Of course, the natural follow-up question would be “but how do we know that you’re actually any of those traits you mentioned?” and also “but how do you ensure that you implant the intended impression?” These are the exact same questions I would ask of a trans individual.
There seems to be an attempt to reverse the inference flow. It brings to mind a post by Parrhesia:
We can apply this framework to any of your examples, and that’s what I was getting at in my post when I’d ask “Why does it matter?” So for example one of the concerns someone might have with undressing in public is avoiding the discomfort that might come with attracting sexualized attention from strangers. A reliable assumption is that the vast majority of people only feel sexual attraction towards the opposite sex, which is why same-sex changing rooms are such a widespread solution to this concern (obviously this is not perfectly reliable, and it also relies on the assumption that same-sex attraction did not exist).
There’s a reason I linked to the Disguised Queries post on bleggs and rubes. The fallacy here would be assuming that the “good-enough” sorting mechanism is the end goal itself, rather than merely a useful tool to get us to our real destination. Unless you keep in mind the root purpose of the sorting mechanism, you risk coming to the erroneous conclusion that vegans think stuffed animals are immoral.
Hmm, no, I don’t believe I use sex and gender interchangeably. Let’s taboo those two terms.
I think that most people don’t care about a person’s chromosomes. When I inspect the way I use the words “sex” and “gender”, I don’t feel like either of them is a disguised query for that person’s chromosomes.
I think that many people care about hormone balances. Testosterone and Estrogen change the way your body behaves, and the type of hormone a person’s body naturally produces and whether they’re suppressing that and/or augmenting with a different hormone is definitely relevant for sports and medicine.
I think that many people care about appearance. Most people’s sexual attraction is keyed to whether a person looks a certain way. Examples include: Straight men being attracted to gay men in feminine clothing, masc lesbians and gay twinks accidentally hitting on each other or even making out without realizing they’re not “technically” attracted to their gender, straight women being attracted to butch lesbians.
I think that many people care about “intent-to-fit-into-and-interact-with-the-world-as-a-specific-social-role”, which is pretty hard for me to point at without the word gender. But our society does have two primary social roles, and committing to living in one social role is important to people. I think lots of people track who is in which social role and interact with those people in different ways.
It sounds like our disagreement is that you doubt that anyone cares about the “intent to fit into and interact with the world as a specific role”, whereas in my experience lots of people care a lot about this.
I’m not really sure the Harvard thing is a good analogy? Consider the following phrases:
I identify as a woman
I identify as a person with XX chromosomes
I identify as a Harvard Graduate
I identify as a Bostonian
I identify as an academic
I identify as a Christian
I identify as a lesbian Which of those identify phrases mean things? It’s the ones which are about primarily social roles and not about physical fact. I think all of these are meaningful except the second and third.
Now, some of these could be lies, (I could say I’m an academic but not actually care about academics!) but they’re not nonsensical.
Now, obviously, you’ll tell me that the social role is the good-enough sorting mechanism and so we should discard it for better sorting mechanisms involving physical characteristics. That’s pretty close to gender abolitionism, to be honest, and I don’t really understand where you get off the following train:
Let me analyze an example you gave while my terms are tabooed: changing rooms. Our goal is to “avoid the discomfort that might come with attracting sexualized attention from strangers”. Obviously, if we look at all four categories I proposed above, (XX/XY, testosterone/estrogen, masculine appearance/feminine appearance, male-social-role/female-social-role), all four of them have approximately the same distribution of attraction to the opposite category. However, only one of them is directly visible to strangers in the dressing room—masculine appearance/feminine appearance. (We could introduce a new category, penis vs. vagina, but then you’ll have very masculine vagina havers in the vagina room and very feminine penis havers in the penis room.)
I would guess that you don’t agree that segregating changing rooms by masculine appearance/feminine appearance is correct? If I’m right about that, what part of the above analysis do you object to?
I don’t understand your objection to the Harvard analogy exactly, especially since you included it in your list. I also don’t understand how exactly you’re distinguishing “social role” from “physical fact” (which one is ‘lesbian’?) or why identifying as a Bostonian is meaningful but Harvard grad is not?
Given that lack of clarity, I worry we have different understanding of the phrase “social role”. My definition would be something along the lines of “the set of behaviors, expectations, and responsibilities associated with a particular position or status within a group or society”. Assuming you agree with that definition, I absolutely understand why someone would care about wanting to fit into and interact with the world as a specific role.
But desire for a particular social role is not a sufficient condition for attaining it. Babies are a social role. No one complains when they sleep all day instead of going to work, and no one is surprised when other people clean them up when they shit their pants. Babies are treated this way because they’re vulnerable and they lack this capacity to take care of themselves because of they haven’t sufficiently developed at their age. And while age is a really good proxy for self-sufficiency (especially early on) it’s obviously not the only one. See for example how we treat the elderly and the severely disabled. The simplistic analysis here would be to deny a vulnerable person the pampered treatment just because they’re too old to be a baby.
Conversely, if I had the intent to be treated the same way as a baby — fed Gerber and pampered by a dedicated two-person team while I sleep all day — it would be reasonable to ask why I am warranted that role. If I’m able-bodied and self-sufficient, it’s reasonable for me to be denied that social role. You can call this a sort of “price of admission” to the social role if you’d like.
I’m not sure what made you think that? I don’t have an opinion on what the “correct” segregation method for dressing rooms should be; it would all depend on the goal you’re trying to accomplish. I brought up “minimizing sexualized attention from strangers” as just one of many possible objectives.