“Excuse me sir, but you can’t be in here.”

I’m gonna be really honest here; I heavily dislike public restrooms. Even with those paper seat covers, it still feels pretty gross. And I’ve used both genders restrooms. Not exactly too big of a difference between the two, except women tend to spray urine everywhere less, and men tend to write stuff on the walls with their menstrual blood less.

So when I head into the restroom, I just want to get in, and get done. I might be genderqueer, but I generally use the women’s room, since I generally feel a little bit safer in there. This time around, after watching a long movie (about a certain superhero team experiencing a schism), I had traipsed into the women’s room, and was mid-stream when a movie theater employee tapped on my door.

“Excuse me sir, but you can’t be in here.”

It was awkward, but it was quickly resolved when I spoke in my super high voice. Apparently, another patron had seen my hairy legs and assumed a man was sitting in the stall next to her. I left the theater feeling a bit frazzled, but otherwise unharmed.

I’d heard a similar story from a butch lesbian friend of mine; she has a much more androgynous look than I do, and is often mistaken for a fourteen year old boy, thanks to her love of cargo shorts and general obliviousness. When she got redirected to the men’s room, she just went with it, and then texted me about how gross men’s bathrooms are afterwards.

It’s gotten me thinking; in the transgender bathroom debate, where do gender non-conforming and non-binary people fall? I think many of us have seen the campaign where a completely “passing” trans person stands in the bathroom associated with their birth sex and demands that the reader consider how ridiculous it looks. However, I, with my hairy legs and short hair, look out of place in a woman’s restroom. Where should I pee? There isn’t always a gender neutral bathroom available.

My friend, who isn’t trans at all, also looks out of place in a woman’s restroom. Where should she pee? Should she be required to wear a dress before entering, so that people don’t get confused?

It seems that this kind of campaign is focusing on looks rather than respecting people’s identity and privacy. Perhaps we all might be better off if, instead of campaigning to allow people to use the bathroom they look like they belong in, we just start asking for a more open policy on who can use which restroom?

 

Five Things No One Told Me About Being Genderqueer in the Trans Community

If you’re like me and you’ve questioned your gender all your life, you know the thrill of finding a word that describes you. Or, hey, even gets close.

I started out as identifying as genderfluid, then as a trans man (a rough patch in my life where I wore pants all. Year. Long.), and finally back to just a vague “eh, guess I’m genderqueer. Watch me wing my eyeliner and not shave my legs” type state.

For a lot of trans people in my life, I’m pretty confusing. Especially for those who have known they are a man or a woman their entire life, it’s pretty difficult to wrap their head around. Sometimes, this means a lot of questions, or it means an interrogation. Which leads to my first thing no one told me when I came out:

  1. Knowing your gender since the day you were born is not a requirement! No matter the gender, it can take a lot of time to figure out who you really are, and then, what it means to be you. For a lot of binary (men and women) trans people, there is so much pressure to ┬áhave absolute certainty at all times…and this pressure gets turned on non-binary identities quite a bit, which is never a fun feeling.
  2. Just because someone is trans, it does not mean they are accepting of or even aware of genderqueer identities. I used to get really excited when I met another trans person, kind of considering them one of my “people.” But as it turns out, being a non-binary identity is a minority within a minority.
  3. You don’t have to display your gender “correctly” to get anyone’s (even another trans person’s!) approval. I used to get this a lot, because I tend to be more androgynous; people would tell me that they didn’t think some other non-binary person’s gender was valid, but mine was definitely real, because they could tell by looking at me. Excuse me, what? At first, I was naively flattered, but then I began to challenge it, after I realized that they were basing the entire validity of my gender on whether or not I looked like a good “mix” of male and female. The implication? That my gender wasn’t as real as being a man or a woman, both of which don’t need to wear specific things to be a valid concept. Can you imagine walking up to a woman and telling her that all the other women were probably just pretending to be women, but she was a real woman because she’s wearing a dress?
  4. Not every trans group is going to be inclusive, and you shouldn’t waste your time with a group that doesn’t include you. Sounds like a no brainer, right? But not including you doesn’t just mean a space where there’s “No NBs allowed!!” or something to that tune. Rather, some groups are more subtle; all the topics are about binary trans issues, discussions seem to value the binary experience more than other trans experiences (if you feel like you can’t chime into a discussion because you’re NB or genderqueer, you’re probably experiencing this!) and the leadership looks at you like you’ve grown a second head when you mention your gender identity. You may be in a space where you’re not aggressively unincluded, but if they’re not willing to make room for you and value you, then they’re not NB inclusive. You’ll end up spending your time in this group quietly listening, as opposed to being a full fledged member.
  5. You don’t have to be the sole educator or spokesperson for all NB people! Many non-binary identified people fall into this trap within trans groups and communities. It’s easy to feel like you have a duty to make the space you’re in NB inclusive, but that doesn’t have to be on you. As a young NB person with a lot of public speaking experience, I’ve often been asked to be on panels to “represent” the gender non-conforming crowd. This was fantastic, of course, but after being the only genderqueer person invited time and again, I’ve started to redirect to other NB people I know, so that there’s a wealth of identities being presented, and I’m not the sole spokesperson for how to be non-binary (I’m not exactly the only way to be genderqueer or non-binary, after all!).

I’m sure there are a million other things I would’ve liked to know before I embarked on this particular journey, but these are just a few of the ones I noticed that would have been nice to know going in.