Am I Female?

I consider myself a very liberal person.  I support same-sex marriage, the decriminalization of marijuana and prostitution, stricter gun laws, more generous attitudes toward immigration, the right to have abortions, and legally-available doctor-assisted suicide.  I also support transgender persons using whatever restrooms they choose, and I think anybody who refuses to call a person by the person’s sincerely preferred pronouns is being an ass.

People make fun of the ignorantly racist white guy who defends himself by saying, “But I can’t be racist!  I have a black friend!”  Perhaps the preceding paragraph is my own attempt at eschewing blame for my narrow-minded ways, but I admit to being a bit perplexed by “gender” as the term is used today.  I’m not sure what it means, and I’m tempted to think it means absolutely nothing.  Until recently, I have always thought of myself as male and have had no issues with that.  (Some would call this a form of “privilege,” and I wouldn’t argue.  By no means do I feel I’ve struggled with issues surrounding gender and sexual orientation—which, to be clear, are not the same thing—in a way that comes anywhere near the struggles countless people have faced.)  But lately, as I try to wrap my mind around what we’re even discussing when we discuss gender, I find myself questioning if it’s a useful term at all.  Whether it’s because I’m buying into “gender” as I see the word defined for modern audiences or simply rejecting every definition I encounter, the end result seems to be the same: I might be female after all.

A year ago, The New York Times posted an article titled “The ABCs of L.G.B.T.Q.I.A.+.”  Using this as a resource, I find myself fitting into several categories I once thought had no application to me.  For example, if the “Q” in “LGBTQIA+” stands for “questioning”— a common interpretation—then the mere fact that I’m writing this blog post demonstrates that I am “Q.”  However, I am also (in this moment of writing) a transgender person, at least according to the definition offered by the article.  That is, I am someone “whose gender identity or gender expression differs from the biological sex … assigned at birth.”  How so?  Well, since I’m currently questioning whether or not I’m male, I’m clearly not expressing or identifying as male, which was the sex assigned to me at birth.  This also makes me “gender nonconforming” and “nonbinary,” as I understand the terms.  Apparently, I may even be a “graysexual,” which is defined as “someone who occasionally experiences sexual attraction but usually does not.”  I doubt that I experience sexual attraction at least 51% of the time, but I don’t know if I’m supposed to include only my waking hours or only times when I’m actually seeing or thinking about another person, and I don’t know if it needs to be based on my entire lifespan, the last couple of weeks, or just since I woke up this morning.

At this point, some readers will think I’m being an arrogant and unsupportive smartass.  I assure you, that’s not my intent.  Of course, I don’t know how I could ever convince you of that.  When I state things in a way that sounds absurd, my point is not to say that the issue is absurd or that the people who identify with one of the terms being discussed are absurd.  Rather, I am expressing the fact that I am sincerely unclear about what these labels even mean.  As a philosophy student—which I have been for the majority of my adult life—I was trained to be extremely picky about definitions.  If a definition allowed for things it shouldn’t, it was considered problematic.  The definition of “graysexual” provided by the NYT seems clearly too broad.  As such, it is not entirely helpful.  Some would wave their hands in annoyance and say, “Okay, Mr. Picky Pants, but you get the idea.”  And maybe I do—loosely.  But that doesn’t alleviate the problem so much as highlight it.  Am I a graysexual?  Can I identify as a graysexual?  Who gets to decide?  Does it matter what other people think, or only what I think?  Do I have to fit your definition, or just my own?  These questions are at the very heart of the debate, insofar as there is one, concerning gender identity, gender expression, and sexual orientation.  I would normally think “graysexual” applies only to those who experience less sexual attraction than I do.  But is it ever for me to decide who gets to claim that title and who doesn’t?  What if someone who experiences sexual attraction more often than I do sincerely identifies as a graysexual?  Is it my place to say that person isn’t or can’t be one?  And if it isn’t my place to say, and if I recognize that fact and sincerely endorse it, then doesn’t it make rational sense for me also to identify as a graysexual, since the term will seem even more applicable to me?

The same rationale allows me—and perhaps even compels me—to accept that I am just as female as I am male.  After all, what does “female” mean if it does not apply to biological sex?  Is there any trait—any trait at all, other than self-identification—that is required for a person to be female?  If not, then as a rational person, I will recognize the fact that nothing about me precludes me from identifying as female.  In other words, I will see that I am as female as anyone can possibly be, if only I will accept the fact.  And if I continue being rational, I will accept the fact—and voila, it turns out I am literally and truly female.  And nobody can tell me I’m not.  I have met the only requirement that exists.  On the other hand, if there is a minimum requirement to being female … well, what is it?  If physical characteristics have nothing to do with being female, then what personality traits must a female inhabit?  Are we comfortable saying females necessarily possess certain personality traits, or that the absence of certain personality traits guarantees a person is not or cannot be a female no matter how that person sincerely identifies?  That sounds contrary to the debate as I’ve understood it.

It doesn’t stop there.  Once I have deduced that I am in fact female (and male by the same principles, mutatis mutandis), I will recognize the fact that I am a lesbian, since I am indeed attracted to other women.  Of course, of the myriad people I’ve ever felt attracted to, I have only truly known the gender identity of a very small percentage.  Many of them I have merely seen in passing and have known nothing more about them than their physical appearances.  So, I am obviously attracted to people regardless of their gender identity, which according to the NYT makes me a pansexual.  By the same source, I am also most certainly “genderqueer” and “gender fluid.”

Anyone who bristles at the conclusions I’ve drawn should not frown upon me.  I’m not the bad guy—or woman, for that matter.  If umbrage must be taken, it should be with the definitions provided by the NYT (and any definitions similar thereto).  If they are inadequate, let it be known how.  But be warned: definitions place boundaries on who or what can lay claim to a certain label.  Do we wish to do that with labels pertaining to gender and sexual orientation?  My gut tells me most liberals do not, which is fine by me—I’m willing to be a team player—but if we set any ground rules, we have to accept the consequences.  I may lack imagination, but I’m finding it very difficult to think of any such rules that will simultaneously please liberals (myself included) and prevent rational persons such as myself from recognizing the fact that, like it or not, I am both male and female.  At least we can agree on one thing: gender identity isn’t a matter of choice.  As it turns out, it may be a matter of logic.