Riddle of a Gender Obsessed Society
Babies- such a blessing; they are adorable, sweet,
bundles of joy, and I am proud to say that my life has recently been filled
with the births of new relatives. Babies are our own little miracles and
generally it is a happy occasion when friends and family announce, we’re pregnant! There is a round of
congratulations and the next question always seems to be, do you want a boy or a girl? Names get thrown out and ideas about
the baby room. The baby shower is planned by friends and the question of the
baby’s gender is constantly debated until that ultrasound shows it all. Or if
you’re like me, you’d wait till the baby was born; but either way, the riddle
of gender plays through the minds of parents, friends, and family. It seems
that no matter what the conversation about the baby, gender rules the show.
Everything that is picked out for the baby’s room, their toys, and outfits, are
all based on one little thing- does the baby have a penis or a vagina?
Growing
up I never questioned this ritual. I am the oldest of ten grandkids, so I was
very much used to the excitement of a new baby arriving. The questions were
normal and regardless of the gender of the baby, everyone was so excited and
the room filled with love. Talk about the future began and of course, everyone’s
future seemed the same. It was the typical Mormon American Dream and changed
only based on the gender of the baby. It wasn’t until I started transitioning
that I wondered how we, as a society, became so obsessed with gender. There are
cultures all over the world that accept a third gender but not Americans. We
are so obsessed with perfection that we forget not everyone has the same dream.
My
gender growing up dictated what I was and was not allowed to do. I was given
Barbie dolls and clothes with pink and frills; princess hair clips and cute
little nail polish kits; and I hated it. I wanted skate boards, snow boards, GI
Joe action figures, baggy jeans, hoodies, short hair, cds, a motorcycle… ya
know, cool stuff. I loved camping and going hunting with my dad; I loved
Snowmachining and chopping firewood; I loved building things and getting dirty
and not worrying about things that my other girl friends thought about. I hated
wearing dresses to church and envied every guy that got to wear a suit and tie.
I really started going stir crazy when dancing and dating age arrived. I was
forced to wear formal dresses and do my hair, makeup, and nails for homecomings
and proms and always had to wear a dress to church dances. Dancing with guys
felt like the most awkward thing in the world. The only way I can explain it
was that I felt gay. I felt like a straight man dancing with another guy, and I
couldn’t grasp that concept in my head. What
the hell is wrong with me? I thought.
This is the hottest guy in the ward; I should
be thrilled. So why do I want to run home? I felt tortured and always out
of place.

Once
I came to realize what was going on and began transitioning, I started to feel
more normal. I finally felt comfortable in my own skin and started having fun in
life again. But transitioning came with its own set of difficulties and feeling
out of place.
Being
a guy has been great. I wouldn’t change my decision for anything. It literally
saved my life. I haven’t changed my interests and what I like or how I do
things much except that now I don’t fear showing my feminine side now and then.
I don’t feel that I have to prove my masculinity which really helps me relax
and just have fun. However, sometimes it’s the simple things that now riddle my
mind. I would like to know what it is like to be normal and not have to worry
about gender. What was life like for people who didn’t have to question their
gender or gender expression? How would it feel to go on a normal date and not
feel skittish when conversations about growing up come around? How would it
feel to not have to come out all the time? People, who were born the correct
gender the first time, really don’t know how lucky they are. I have days where
I am beyond jealous of biological men; they just have no idea.
Next
is the locker room. While I feel more comfortable in the men’s room and
changing in front of guys, I always wonder what it would be like to not have to
hide certain appendages… or lack thereof. My binder isn’t all that
uncomfortable, but I dream of the day when I no longer have to wear it.
Changing at the gym has become normal for me, and I’ve never had a guy ask me
anything or give me a second glance, unless he comes up asking for my number
afterwards. No one suspects that beneath that tight tank top, which they
probably think is under armor, are two women’s breasts. Praise God I had small
tits to begin with.
I
won’t go into detail about everything that biological men and women take for
granted but there are a lot of things. I’ve always hated being a woman, so I
don’t really know what the benefits to being a woman really are, so apologies
to my Trans sisters; I don’t know your side of the story. I think they just
need to create a surgery so we can all just switch and be happy. You can have
my breasts, and I’ll take your penis- the world would be such a happier place
if we could do such a thing.
Unfortunately,
society doesn’t change overnight, and it doesn’t listen to just one person. We
have a long way to go if we are to change this society from being obsessed with
gender to being loving and accepting of all sorts of gender identities and
expressions. I don’t think I will ever fully identify as male, but I sure as
hell don’t identify as female. We need to teach the world how to look at
individuals as people and not as their gender. Get away from having the first
question after a baby is born be is it a
girl or a boy and get it to what is
their name? Or are they healthy?
Just something besides obsessing over their gender; most likely they won’t fit
into your nice little box of male or female anyways.
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