Q:

What’s great: scores of my friends are having really great and meaningful moments of gender discovery and euphoria – finding new ways to dress that feel right, finding ways to express themselves more fully, getting gender confirmation procedures, trying out neopronouns, and generally finding gender to be an important and fulfilling area of their life.

The more I get to witness and participate in this, the happier I feel — but also the more disconnected I feel from gender as a concept. I have always hummed along assuming I’m a cis woman, but i have never felt strongly about that, and I’ve felt super uncomfortable volunteering “she/her” pronouns at work and other places — but I also don’t really want to switch to “they/them,” because the few times I’ve tried it out it doesn’t feel any more “right.” I don’t feel like a “woman” — and after talking to cis and trans women and non-binary people about what gender and “woman”ness feel like and mean, I don’t feel NOT like a woman either. I have a body that is pretty much universally gendered as “woman,” and while I hate that, I also hate the thought of making changes to my body. When I wear dresses, I don’t feel particularly at ease or uncomfortable or affirmed or dysphoric; when I lift weights and get swole, I don’t feel like I’m moving towards or away from anything.

For me, gender has always felt like something from the outside – a lens that other people use to interact with me whether I want them to or not. I keep trying to find the joy that I see other people find in gender identity – to find some wavelength that makes me feel more “me.” Identifying as a woman doesn’t feel right, but affirmatively identifying as “not a woman” also doesn’t feel right.

If this is being agender…what do I do now? I don’t know how to affirm my own opting out of something I never opted into. I don’t know how to express a lack of something. And I don’t know what pronouns I should use!!!

A:

I feel very similarly to the way you feel about my own gender — I feel unsure when asked about my pronouns because I genuinely don’t have a preference, only a default. “She/her” feels wrong, but “they/them” and “he/him” don’t feel better. I don’t feel like “a woman” (but also, referring to myself as a “girl” when I was younger felt much more comfortable than calling myself a “woman,” now), and I usually relate more to how non-binary people talk about their gender than I do to how cis or trans women talk about their gender, but that can depend on who’s talking. Growing up, everyone knew me as a tomboy and I was sometimes read as male, and that was fine. I’ve said for years that my gender identity is “lesbian,” which feels even truer to me than saying my sexual orientation is “lesbian.” Mostly, I don’t want to be perceived at all.

Which is just to say, you’re not the only person out there who feels ambivalent about their own gender or isn’t sure where they fit, or what to do about it, or who can’t connect to these ideas that are so meaningful for others in the queer community.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we might be able to let ourselves live in uncertainty. To know that just because a suite of labels exist for a certain element of our identity doesn’t mean every human soul will find one that fits them perfectly, or that we’ll find it by a certain age, or even that finding it will bring us euphoria. You say that your friends are “generally finding gender to be an important and fulfilling area of their life,” but it’s okay for you to not feel the same way about your own gender, or about gender as a concept.

That said, not being able to access the community that labels enable can suck, if that is part of what you are looking for. Feeling out of place in the category you’re assigned can be hard, too, even if you don’t know which category would suck less. I don’t know how to describe that strange, blobby, out-of-place sentiment, but I understand how deep the urge can be to reconcile it. I think, though, that there’s also peace to be found in just accepting that sometimes we will occupy spaces that aren’t perfect affirmations or reflections of who we are, because life is full of those spaces, and it’s unlikely you’re the only person in that space who feels the way you do about being there.

If you do want to explore this more, you could try simply A/B testing your gender — trying out different pronouns or different ways of describing your gender in different contexts or with different people, and see how they feel, if any of those get you to a place where you feel more yourself. You don’t owe anyone a linear narrative. It’s okay to change, rather than evolve — to try one thing and then pull back and then try that same thing again or something else altogether.

I hesitated for a long time to say “any pronouns” when asked to indicate mine for a bio, because I worried it was disrespectful or belittling to people who do use specific pronouns and are regularly misgendered. But I talked to some people about it and saw more and more people doing it themselves, and so I started doing it too, for the past year or so. Of course everybody generally defaults to “she/her” for me, but “she/her by default” is a fine place to be for me.

You know how there are people who are queer and it’s a huge part of their identity and they want to talk about it and find queer community and consume queer art and start whole entire websites about it, and then there are people who just like, date people of different genders? Maybe this is like that. Or maybe this is like sexuality itself — many allosexual people find exploring their sexual interests and having sex to be incredibly fulfilling and important and central to who they are, whereas asexual people wouldn’t necessarily find that same level of fulfillment. And then there are lots of people who are somewhere in the middle, there.

Neither of those comparisons are perfect comparisons, because gender is ultimately a thing that can’t really be compared to anything else, it is its own world of meaning, it is so elemental to how humanity has organized itself.

But maybe all any of this is, is a jumping off point.

When you say that you keep trying to find the joy that you see other people find in gender identity, maybe what I am trying to do here is ask you to give yourself permission to accept that you might not find that joy, and that’s okay. Maybe the joy you feel for your friends will be the most gender-related joy you experience, and even that, I think, is a lot of joy! But also, it’s possible that eventually you will, later in your own journey — maybe not right now, along with your friends, but eventually. I don’t know how old you are, but whether you are 25 or 75, it’s okay not to have it all figured out just yet.

Not every piece of who you are has to be part of an inevitable biological or psychological destiny that, with enough effort and introspection, you can accurately unearth and begin living within. Experiences change us, environments change us. The world changes around us and we change with it. All we can do is live with the truth as it presents itself to us, and do our best to find peace within the gray area, even if we can’t always find validation, or comfort there. Confusion is a wavelength too, after all.

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