Blogging against heteronormativity!

From Wikipedia:

Heteronormativity is a term used in the discussion of sexual behavior, gender, and society, primarily within the fields of queer theory and gender theory. It is used to describe (and frequently to criticize) the manner in which many social institutions and social policies are seen to reinforce certain beliefs.

These include the belief that human beings fall into two distinct and complementary categories, male and female; that sexual and marital relations are normal only when between two people of different genders; and that each gender has certain natural roles in life. Thus, physical sex, gender identity, and gender roles should in any given person align to either all-male or all-female norms, and heterosexuality is considered to be the only normal sexual orientation. The norms this term describes or criticizes might be overt, covert, or implied. Those who identify and criticize heteronormativity say that it distorts discourse by stigmatizing alternative concepts of both sexuality and gender and makes certain types of self-expression more difficult.

I have an anecdote to share: my ten-year-old brother, sweet, perceptive child that he is, one day remarked as we were watching commercials on TV, “Why do they only show straight couples?” (Sort of like the time he asked why human beings are called “man” and “mankind” since we’re not just made of men — yes, my siblings are pretty awesome.)

“That’s called heterocentrism,” I replied. “Being straight is all you see because it’s what everyone is assumed to be.”

“That’s stupid,” he said.

I agree.

Another anecdote: in my fiction, several of my central characters in my ongoing projects are queer. I don’t know how many times I’ve had parents/older authority figures/whoever ask me why “all my stories are gay”.

My stories aren’t all gay. Some of my stories don’t have any queer characters at all, some only have a few. The ones in which queer characters are the main ones are of course going to have a greater emphasis on and representation of queers — because we tend to like to make friends with at least some others who share our concerns and experiences. I think I overall have a 50-50 split in my representation of straight vs. gay characters. Perhaps not even that; my trans characters in my novel are technically straight girls, GLBT or not.

People ask me why I’m into slash and why I “choose to write gay love stories”.

Why do straight people choose to write about straight characters?

Everything I read is about straight people. I have been known to be subject to the occasional bout of heterosexual attraction; I think male/female couples are perfectly good writing material. (Even better than straight ones, though, are queer male/female couples. Just because you’re in a “straight” partnership doesn’t mean the individuals participating aren’t queer. Bi and pansexuals do exist. Sometimes, pretty fucking rarely unless they’re in the closet, homosexuals date people of the opposite sex, even — though I think lesbians seem to be more flexible on this point. Heteronormative assumptions strike again!)

Science fiction isn’t queer enough. It’s probably more queer than a lot of other genres barring stuff specifically aimed at a queer market. Speculative fiction that isn’t just science-based tends to be slightly more fabulous…but, still…

I write what I want to read. No one else is going to, so I should, right?

But it’s not “normal”. It’s not the “default”. Writing a book about a gay man suddenly makes me “weird”.

Why?

I am one of those people with the ability to read gay subtext into absolutely anything. (If queer media were prevalent enough, to be fair, I’d probably read straight subtext into that, too.) Half the movies I watch end up with me proclaiming how I think a character is gay or has a thing for another character of the same sex. I’ve read whole books secretly hoping a same-sex couple hooks up in the end, conveniently trying to ignore or downplay any heterosexual entanglements of which I am not fond. I played Kingdom Hearts and its sequel because of my desperate belief that Sora and Riku were meant to be with each other even though the love triangle actually involves their mutual crushes on the girl character, whom I despise (or, well, I did until the end of KH2, but that’s another story) and try to pretend doesn’t exist.

If the possibility isn’t explicitly precluded by the plot, or if I don’t like the male/female couples in a story, I’ll read gay subtext into everything I see. No one except maybe my sister and my friend Megan can really spot the covert homosexuality in just about anything the way that I can.

People think I’m nuts.

Perhaps, perhaps not, but I’ll tell you what this means, what it says about me — it’s a coping strategy. It’s my way of coping with the fact that most of the mainstream movies I watch don’t include people like me or my friends, except as a sexless footnote or a freakish joke. I do watch a lot of queer film and read a lot of queer lit, but not always, not exclusively — how could I, and why? It’s just so frustrating to know that, in most mainstream media, I’m either an abnormal anomaly or my existence isn’t even considered as a possibility. I think that has been getting better, but it’s still pretty bad.

The media’s probably the place where I feel most represented, as a matter of fact, because there are movies that at least acknowledge that gay people exist (in however clumsy or offensive a fashion). It’s the day to day experience of life that exasperates me. Unless I’m in the company of other queers, most people seem to be utterly ignorant about even the possibility of homosexuality, and if they think it exists, they just have to tell me their bizarre, totally offensive, and utterly flawed theories about it. They don’t even acknowledge people who aren’t monosexual.

And these theories on why people become gay? They are flawed because they conform to heteronormative theories of personality because, of course, most straight people can’t think outside of that box — which is understandable (hell, I don’t understand straight people, I can’t think in the heteronormative box), but annoying as all hell. For example:

Lesbians become what they are because they either have been abused by men or can’t find a man who wants them or are in some other way embittered. They just need to find the right one.

Weird oedipal shit about men being raised by women so they identify with the feminine gender role, not having proper masculine role models, or vice versa with queer women, blah blah blah, I’m sure you all know it.

Or, one that I’ve heard which is especially offensive because it acknowledges the validity of the trans and intersex experiences at the expense of the rest of us: that homosexuals are really just physically or mentally the opposite gender they think they are and once they realize that they can become perfectly happy heterosexual members of society. (The woman my dad is seeing explained this theory to him, which she believes, along with the conviction that bisexuality isn’t real; he told her never to say anything like that in my presence, ever, and then tried to explain to her why that’s totally wrong. Sigh. But at least my family members are cool.)

So I guess all I’m trying to say is, I’m not abnormal or unnatural, I’m just me, and I do exist. I kind of like to construct a world around me which reflects that, through my writing, my art, and through my interpretations or critiques of what other people have to say. Apparently, many straight people in my life can’t understand why I do this.

It’s their loss, I suppose. They’re the ones limited by that worldview, and unless I buy into it or let them upset me (too much), it doesn’t have to affect me.

But — ARGH! It’s so frustrating to be treated like a freak or have my experiences invalidated. How many guys hit on a girl even more after learning she identifies as lesbian because to them that means she’s into hot bisexual threesomes? How totally offensive is that?

And why does it matter? If I don’t allow people to safely assume I’m straight, and neither to put me in a narrow box of whatever they believe the alternative is, THEY. FLIP. OUT.

It’s terrifying to them. It’s a personal affront!

Whatever.

I’d rather be queer.

Blogging to raise awareness about sexual violence.

If you’re not angry you’re not paying attention.

How many of you know someone who’s been the victim of sexual violence? How many of you know someone who’s been raped?

How many of you think you don’t know anyone who’s a survivor? I’ll bet you do. I’ll bet you don’t even know it.

People always seem surprised that I can be so passionate, so angry. I’ve never been raped, right? So why should I care? The statement is baffling, the sentiment downright insulting. Why shouldn’t I care? I’m angry that people live in poverty and starve to death even though I do not. I’m angry about a lot of things I have never personally experienced and hope to keep that way. What kind of person can simply not care when others are in pain simply because it does not affect them personally? (Don’t answer that. I’m not asking because I don’t know. I’d really rather not think about it.)

If you’re not angry you probably just don’t realize why you should be.

I have friends who have been raped, you know. Too many. I know girls raped by strange men in dark alleys, by their friends, by their fathers. Some of these women are my family. I know a man who was sexually abused by his mother throughout his childhood.

Mostly the blame sits on them, not their rapists.

How does a six-year-old girl “ask for it”? What sort of sick mind says a girl systematically abused for years by her father “led him on” or “made him do it”? That may horrify any thinking compassionate person, but that’s what this girl’s family said when she told my sister and my dad called the police. They lied and said they talked to the police, who wouldn’t investigate, so that she’d drop it. When we did contact law enforcement, suddenly, she was the bad one, she’d “broken up the family” and it was all her fault.

Why would a fourteen-year-old lie about being raped at night outside her home? Oh, right, to get attention. Making it all up so that she can be the center of attention, when…it’s so very obvious there’s something wrong. Her mother wonders why she’s suicidal, self-destructive, depressed? Oh, right, that’s for attention too. There couldn’t be a real problem there, now could there?

These are only some of the stories I know, and some of them I’m merely aware of.

It’s not that people I know have been hurt that makes me angry. It’s just that gives it a face. That makes it even more important. I was angry before, but knowing what’s happened to people I care about makes it worse.

How can anyone not care about violence? How can anyone think that the only reason to care is if one is a bitter victim? Must I know someone who’s been murdered to think that killing someone is horrible?

If you’re not angry you probably don’t realize just how pervasive sexual violence is in the world, or how little is being done to prevent and punish it.

Open the paper on any given day; you’ll see a story about rape or child pornography or human trafficking or sexual slavery or something. It’s everywhere. And no one ever talks about the real problem: that sexual violence is wrong. That seems obvious, tautological — so obvious, in fact, that it’s totally ignored and obvious no longer.

Instead the discussion shifts to what people should do to avoid it, when…no one should have to go out of their way to avoid what other people shouldn’t be doing. Idealistic, perhaps, but, legally, true. That’s why we have laws. Certainly, if someone is walking alone in a dangerous part of town and gets mugged, perhaps they had a lapse in judgment — but it’s not their fault, it was the fault of the person who took advantage of that and did something that was wrong. Our hypothetical victim here is not the one who broke the law, and the person who did ought to be punished whether or not the victim put themselves into a position of weakness.

I have a confession to make: I did this too, when my ex reported that she was sexually assaulted. I thought she had put herself into a dangerous situation which she should have been smart enough to avoid, and to some extent I still feel that way, but… it’s not her fault that he committed a crime. That doesn’t excuse what he did to her. I don’t care if she was high or if she should have been smarter than to be in a room alone with some creepy older guy, or if I was a little pissed that she didn’t listen when I told her not to do stupid shit because she’d get hurt; he shouldn’t have touched her. No one can ever be held responsible for the violent acts perpetrated by others, no matter what they did or didn’t do, “should” or “should not” have done. There are circumstances under which, perhaps, sexual violence could have been prevented, but it’s not the victim’s fault if it happened. It is never less wrong if the victim’s foresight and actions weren’t perfect or didn’t fit into some flawless formula. Questioning the thought process or actions of the victim only leads to shifting responsibility from where it actually belongs: the one who committed the crime.

Why aren’t more people angry? How can people honestly not be angry about the fact that sexually violent acts happen, every minute of every day, all over the world?

Why isn’t everybody outraged?

I know the answers to these questions, of course, and a critique of rape culture and the idea of women as a sex class will have to wait for another day. But I think that most people aren’t so malicious as those answers would imply. I think most people really…don’t notice, don’t see the problem, don’t understand why rape is wrong and what it does to people. It’s a crime so horrific that people want to pretend it doesn’t happen.

I said before if you’re not angry you’re not paying attention, and sometimes…it’s not that people are willfully ignoring things. It’s that they honestly don’t know. There’s such a stigma against the victims of sex crimes that many people never engage in honest dialogue about the subject. People repeat what they’re told without ever thinking about it.

So we need to talk. We need to repeat what people still haven’t heard, again and again until victim’s voices can be heard and not judged.

Are you listening?

Are you learning?

Are you paying attention?

Are you angry yet?

I’ve already talked a little about the word queer and how I identify with it. I love being queer. It can mean anything, so long as it’s out of the ordinary, not what’s expected, not what’s supposedly “normal”. It’s open enough that it doesn’t have to put me in a box according to whom I might or might not find attractive (straight? hell no! lesbian? not entirely. bisexual? binary systems = evil. pansexual? no one knows what the hell it means) — instead I can just be me.

But the other word I love is “dyke”.

Dyke is not about what box other people can put you in. It’s not a convenient label to allow other people to tell you who you are or should be. Dyke is an attitude. Dykeness is a state of mind, a way of life, a woman who likes women and won’t take shit about it from anyone.

A dyke is a woman who knows she doesn’t need a man to be complete. A dyke is a woman who, confronted with the idea that she needs to dress, talk, act a certain way in order to land Mr. Perfect, Prince Charming, just laughs out loud and walks away. A dyke knows she doesn’t have to do anything to impress anyone, but certainly not guys. She dresses how she wants because she wants to, not because it’s supposed to make men want her. She’ll wear what makes her comfortable, whether that’s high heels and a skirt or lumberjack plaid and tennis shoes. She’ll act without restraint, sometimes in situations where such behavior might not be appropriate, because she doesn’t care if people think she’s ladylike, demure enough, good enough to find a man to marry her. She is who she is because that’s who she is, not because a man made her that way.

This isn’t to say straight women let men dictate their lives, but when they don’t necessarily need to be in the picture, it’s so much easier to laugh off their attempts at control. Why worry what any man thinks? You don’t need him. Who wants most straight men, anyway? There’s so much more to life than pleasing them. A dyke doesn’t need to make men like her, because a dyke is a woman who loves women.

That’s the other thing — a dyke loves women. Really loves. The way some straight men say they do, but they don’t mean it, they don’t understand what it’s really like to love a woman because they aren’t one. It’s not the same at all. There a very few men who can truly adore a woman the way another woman can, really understanding, really appreciating her, really taking her in, because a woman knows. A woman knows what other women’s lives are like, what we are when you tear the patriarchy down, when you take away the social conditioning and the expectations and all the other bullshit. Only a woman is capable of really beginning to know what another woman is really like, beneath it all. Oh, men can try, and it’s admirable of them really, but I don’t know if it’s really possible for them to truly empathize, no matter how supportive they are.

And that’s what “dyke” means to me. That’s why I like to call myself a dyke, even if I’m not technically just a lesbian, because I’m a woman who loves women and knows I don’t need a man and, hell, doesn’t much care about landing one. I’m queer. I’m a dyke. Everyone else can just get the hell used to it.

I don’t have a car. I hate driving and it’s probably safer for everyone on the road; I’m incapable of both getting the car to move in a straight line and also paying attention to a million different things going on at once around me. As a consequence, if any place I want to go is within a few miles, I’ll walk. I get rides from people or take the bus.

For some reason the past few years I’ve been victim to an explosion of random harassment on the street. No one ever used to bother me until about three years ago, when all of the sudden I was suddenly subject to unwanted attention by guys trying to intimidate me into going out with them, or men shouting at me or honking on the street. I’m not a person who deals well with this. I freeze up. I want to crawl into a hole in the sidewalk somewhere and just die. It’s the most I can do to simply ignore it and not give them the satisfaction of a response; forget confronting anyone, yelling “fuck you” or flipping them off — I wish to God I could. My reflexes aren’t that fast and it upsets me too much to immediately react. And maybe I’m a little afraid to. I think my attitude is enough to keep people from confronting me, generally (apparently I scare and intimidate people), but apart from that, I’m a very small person. I feel tiny, and I’m very aware, sometimes, how vulnerable that makes me.

Anyway, I hadn’t had any problems since August or September, so I suppose I assumed that it had somehow stopped. But I think the assholes were just waiting until spring to emerge.

In the past few weeks, I’ve been honked at many times and even had one idiot stop in the middle of the street (residential neighborhood, so not a lot of traffic) and slooowly cruise by, making sounds which I honestly thought at first were a pigeon or something. (I swear this is true. Sexy, huh? He sure thought so. Dumbass.) He finally drove away when I refused to acknowledge him at all and people behind him got pissed off and started honking. But none of this has ever really bothered me. Sure, I didn’t like it, but I can forget it and keep going about my day.

Today, while walking to work, I had some guys zoom by and scream at me. Some unintelligible but almost certainly obscene statement that ended with the word “bitch”. (At first it really bothered me that I couldn’t make out what they’d said. But I’m pretty sure I’m better off not knowing.) I have no idea what I did to deserve being called names. Maybe they’d tried to get my attention and I didn’t notice. Or maybe they were just pathetic scum with nothing better to do with their day than assault random people. Scratch that — women. People don’t do this to men. And that is an act of violence. It is a violation. To not feel safe in your own neighborhood, half a block away from, of all things, an elementary school, with kindergartners running around and everything.

That did upset me. I got to work and wanted to cry. It took me most of the day to even begin to forget about it. Being called a bitch on the street ruined my day.
Tell me that’s a compliment. Just try to tell me I should appreciate that they found me an attractive target for their aggression. I fucking dare you.

It’s not any different at all from when men cat-call or whistle or say other things which may not involve such rude language or names. It’s the same sentiment, it’s just that these guys didn’t feel the need to hide their utter contempt for women. It’s not a compliment. It’s not about being found attractive. It’s about men asserting their power over women — and except on the most superficial level, it’s not even sexual. It’s violent. It’s unbridled hate for simply being born what I am. An object to be despised except when I can be used.

This reminded me of an old post by Echidne on misogynists and how feminism brings them out of the woodwork. Basically this post argues that misogynists are less common than we think, it’s simply that outspoken feminist bloggers attract more trolls and give us an inflated sense of how many men really, truly hate us.

And while I think it’s a good post, and it has a point, I think it’s absolutely not true. I think misogynists are pretty fucking common. I think more men totally despise women more than we ever want to admit. Because I’m not doing anything to attract unwarranted attention when I walk on the street. I’m not spouting my politics, I’m not dressing or acting in any way which could reveal that I am a feminist or the uppity broad I am. If anything, I look average, I look feminine, and I’m the farthest thing in most people’s mind from a queer feminist stereotype. And yet I encounter this shit just as much, sometimes more, in daily life, in apolitical contexts, than I do online.

Misogyny is totally ubiquitous. It’s all-pervading. It’s everywhere, all the time, and I, at least, am being constantly bombarded with it. What makes this worse is that this behavior is perceived as normal. I don’t know what other conclusion I’m supposed to come to except that the majority of men hate women, otherwise, this wouldn’t happen constantly, and it certainly wouldn’t be seen as okay.

Yeah, I know, it could be worse. This place is better than some.

But it’s still bad.

Or, you know, you can. If you’re a masochist. As I apparently am.

First, via Daily Dose of Queer, a young man who is surprisingly insecure about other people’s gender identity. Apparently, allowing people to check “male”, “female” or write in an “other” as their gender on a college application is the end of the world. Or, at the very least, marks the other as “psychotic”. But what I really love about this editorial is that parts of it are right on the mark. The author knows what he’s talking about. It’s pretty entertaining when it’s not so stupid it’s infuriating.

For example:

There are, to be sure, rare individuals who are born intersexed (possessing attributes of both sexes), but in the Western world corrective surgery assigns a distinct sex soon after birth. [Note: Yeah, and I consider that “corrective surgery” to be mutilation, but that’s neither here nor there.] …

The push for recognizing “gender variance” has little to do with genuine biological aberrance. Its goal is not to treat those burdened with physical forms that are imperfectly realized more charitably, but to abolish sex by destroying the normative standard.

Well, speaking for myself? Yes. And? I’ve run across so many articles which talk about the feminist agenda of demolishing gender roles, establishing gender and sex as a continuum, etc, etc, and, without fail, these articles simply cite that as if it’s some self-evident flaw in feminist reasoning. They have never explained to me exactly why this is a bad thing. I assume this is because there’s no argument against the idea other than stubborn adherence to principle.

But I can explain why seeing gender, and even physical sex, as a false duality, as a continuum, is a good thing. With gender, recognizing however people define themselves is only polite and respectful. With physical sex, the differences are not as clearly-cut as most people would like to believe. Why construct these broad categories which often don’t apply? Obviously, there is benefit to constructing categories which fit most people, but the problem is that usually this ends up forcing everyone else into one or the other, which is marginalizing and often physically or psychologically damaging. This is a problem in the case of, say, the discrimination that transgendered and non-gender-normative folks face. This is a problem when intersex children are mutilated before they’re old enough to understand their own gender identity and express it, in operations which often compromise future reproductive or sexual function, which often lead to trauma when a child who identifies as one gender is raised as the other and/or that child learns what was done to them. (Though “trauma” seems an inadequate word if one means crippling depression and eventual suicide.)

But wait! It gets better:

If I approached the director of the student government’s Queer Affairs Task Force and I claimed to be an eggplant trapped in a man’s body, she would smile, nod politely (she is a nice person), and then call for friendly people in white coats to haul me off to a padded cell. But if I claimed to be a woman trapped in a man’s body, she would force others to act as if my view were correct. In short, psychosis is considered quite alright, provided it obliterates sexual norms, traditions, and taboos.

Do I even have to say anything about this quote? Really? Yeah, I think it speaks for itself. This isn’t even good or logical writing.

And, of course, the obligatory strawfeminist:

Believing in the modern liberal view of sex must require at least an hour of practice each day. How else can they believe, for example, that masculinity and femininity are social constructs with no relation to the biological differences between the sexes, while also holding that homosexuality is inherent? Or that gender is unimportant, except when someone insists that he or she is stuck in a body of the wrong gender?

The problem here, I think, is that someone a) doesn’t understand the terminology being used and b) doesn’t care. Masculinity and femininity are gender roles. Anyone can act in a way society deems “masculine” or “feminine” regardless of being male or female, man or woman, intersex or genderqueer. Gender is an internal identity, a state of mind. Sex is an inherent physical characteristic which can be medically altered to a certain extent. These are not interchangeable. That is how I can believe all these things at once; because they are not synonymous. And believing that gender should be unimportant so far as social or legal issues go, that everyone should be treated equally, is not opposed to the idea that people’s right to self-define is important.

The rest of the editorial kind of veers off into a bunch of pseudo-philosophical crap that I admit I got bored and stopped really reading closely. (I skimmed!) But apparently “Our culture has become so oversexed that it is abolishing sex.” I have no idea what this is supposed to mean, since it’s confusing the two totally different definitions of the word sex: namely, that which is related to reproduction and all its happy perks, and…innate physical characteristics that don’t necessarily have anything to do with definition number one. As I said before: logic? Decent writing skills? Anywhere to be found?

And then there’s this awful thing someone linked to in the feminist LJ community. I can’t even begin to articulate how much this article pisses me off. Whatever one thinks about Ariel Levy (Personally? I think she has some good points to make, but I don’t think she’s a very good writer from articles I’ve read. I haven’t read the book, just excerpts and articles she’s written about the book which make me disinclined to read it. I expect I’ll get around to it sometime.), I hope we can all agree that whoever wrote this thing is living in a different universe. Observe:

We’re not trying to be empowered. The twentysomething women I know don’t care about old-style feminism. Partly this is because they already see themselves as equal to men: they can work, they can vote, they can bonk on the first date.

Putting aside the myth that women have never been allowed to work outside the home (as women of color and poor women and just about any woman who wasn’t rich and well-off have always been forced to work rather than having the luxury of staying home with the kids); men and women are hardly on an equal playing field. Things are better in many ways, but it’s not equal. This remains true of all civil rights struggles. And sure, women can bonk on the first date, it just means everyone will call her a “slut”. Being called degrading names! Empowering!

Oh, but it GETS BETTER. By which I mean, much, much worse:

Another reason for the rise of raunch is that women are rediscovering the joy of being loved for their bodies, not just their minds. … Instead of desperately longing for the right to be seen as human beings, today’s girls are playing with the old-fashioned notion of being seen as sex objects.

I defy anyone to seriously argue that women are now valued for their minds at the expense of their physical characteristics. Or that women’s minds are valued. Or that women are valued. I don’t know about you, but this twentysomething girl is still at that desperately-longing-to-be-seen-as-a-human-being stage.

And you can read the rest if you really want, because there are so many gems in there I didn’t want to bother quoting. I’ll just close with this explanation on why sexual harassment in the workplace is the greatest thing ever:

If a thong makes you feel fabulous, wear it. For one thing, men in the office waste whole afternoons staring at your bottom, placing bets on whether you’re wearing underwear. Let them. Use that time to take over the company.

I would, personally, prefer if no one except possibly a sexual partner spent any time thinking about my undergarments. If they can’t help themselves, there’s no need to speak about this thought aloud. I can’t be the only one who finds this quote extremely nasty.

People who ask this question obviously don’t understand what is meant by the term “sexual objectification”. No, I don’t want to be objectified, not ever. Not by random people on the street, not by an intimate partner.

“Why?”

By definition, what is an object? An object is something inert to be manipulated by others. An object exists only for the purposes it was made and can only passively fulfil that purpose through its use by an active party. A grammatical object is the part of a sentence which indicates what is being manipulated by the subject; linguistically, an object has things done to it but does nothing on its own.

In more concrete terms, what are objects? Objects are items that exist outside of ourselves which we put to specific uses. A banana is an object. It’s a plant which has been domesticated so that its only purpose is to be consumed by human beings. The plant can no longer reproduce without human intervention, so its natural biological purpose has been subverted and it no longer has a real function outside of the uses humans design for it. When we plant grass in our yards to look nice, this is an object. The only real purpose of grass is to grow and spread, but we add cultural baggage, assumptions about class and aesthetics which we attach not only to our lawns but to their color and health, their maintanance, their growth. A car is an object; it is for transportation. A stove is an object; it is for cooking. Food is an object; it is to be cooked, it is to be eaten. A baseball is an object; it is to be thrown within the specific context of certain games.

Objects are things.

A woman is not an object.

Let me ammend that: people are not objects.

Women do not exist solely to be sexually manipulated, used, abused. When a woman is objectified she is made into a passive thing — she is not an individual with thoughts and ideas, with ambitions and goals and principles. She is simply something to be used for the pleasure of the one who objectifies her. And do things have feelings? Does anyone care what an object thinks or wants? In a very real way, objectification is dehumanization. Dehumanizing a subject, making them into an object, allows for their feelings and thoughts to be completely disregarded. Does consent matter when dealing with a thing rather than a person? Does anything matter but the pleasure and whims of the user, the abuser?

Other people are made into objects, too. It’s not just women who are made into objects in order to fulfil the fantasties of others; parents make their children into objects, too, assuming that the child’s only purpose is to live up to their expectations, to do as the parents would like the child to do. Politicians and advertizers make people into objects: we are a passive audience for them to manipulate, to do what they want us to do for their benefit and not for our own — we are a means to an end and we are not human when we do this. We are objects to be used and manipulated and then discarded when our usefulness is through.

So not all objectification is sexual. None of it is good, beneficial, or in any way desirable. I am a person, not an object. I take particular exception, however, to being made into a sexual object. My sexuality — the firing of neurons in my brain, the combination of feelings and sensations moving along my nerves, my body, my breasts, my vulva — does not exist for the pleasure of anyone but me. This is not to say that I’m selfish, that I would take pleasure from another while denying them pleasure from my body, my sex — it is to say that if I find it pleasurable to give pleasure to a particular person, that is my business. It is nothing that can be taken without my express will, my explicit consent. My body does not exist specifically for the visual or physical stimulation of others, especially those to whom I do not give permission to use me in this way.

“Don’t we all like to be objectified sometimes?”

No. I don’t. I don’t enjoy being made into a passive object to be manipulated. I don’t enjoy being made into something less-than-human. I don’t enjoy being ignored and overlooked as the individual that I am and instead made into something else against my own will.

Do I enjoy being found attractive? Yes, of course. Everyone does. But too often these two phenomona are conflated and confused. Being objectified, being verbally or sexually abused, is often said to merely be the same thing as attraction. It’s a compliment, it’s an honor to be harrassed on the street. Being a desireable object is confused with being a desireable human being. Being made into a thing to be used, which exists solely for the purpose of this use and is judged only on its usefulness, is not the same as being found attractive at all.

When a person finds another person attractive, that other person is still human. They are an active participant in all interactions. No one can have a relationship with an object; relationships are a dynamic, mutual process on the part of all involved. Relationships are an active process. In the dynamic of objectification, only one party retains active personal agency.

There is something to be said for the desire to submit, the desire to be passive, in a sexual or romantic dynamic. Some people feel more comfortable in dominant or submissive relationship roles. But this is still an active, consensual decision, and that is the distinction. In my relationships with my family, I enjoy caring for and taking care of others, I enjoy cooking and don’t mind cleaning because it makes everyone’s life more livable. If a young sibling is ill I will nelgect my own desires, my own plans for the day, in order to ensure that they are comfortable and all right. I would be absolutely the same if I were in a romantic relationship, because this is my personality and it is what gives me pleasure. I do not do this simply because it’s expected of me (it’s not), but because it is the role I am most comfortable expressing. This submission to the needs and desires of other people is an expression of love. If this submission is forced, rather than an active expression of the person in question’s authentic personality and desires, as it often is, that relationship is abusive.

A real relationship allows for everyone involved to act however they like, to fill whatever role they like. Objectification does not. Objectification forces a role and a purpose onto the object which, even on theoretical occasion that this role and purpose might conicide with how that particular person expresses themselves, still limits that person’s ability to be anything outside of that narrow set of expectations. It is still wrong, and it is always wrong.

I posit that no, nobody ever really likes to be objectified. When people ask that question, or when people say that they like a little objectification now and then, I think it’s clear what they actually mean is that they enjoy being found attractive, they enjoy attention. These are perfectly valid wants and desires. But I am not willing to accept that anyone on Earth actually wants, of their own free will, to lose any and all freedom to define themselves or to have any real agency in their own lives. Powerlessness as a fantasy or a kink is not the same as actual powerlessness, as actual slavery and bondage. No one who actually cares about the subject would think to conflate the two while describing submission in those terms, and the fact is that being made into an object is very real powerlessness, is very real bondage to another person’s desires at the expense of one’s own.

Objectification is a forced loss of self.

No one has any right to ever, under any circumstances, inflict this on another person.

I was surfing the internet today and came across a statement to the effect of: “a woman wearing clothes that show cleavage or going without a bra is guaranteed to get male attention”. This was put forth as an advantage, a good thing, something to be desired. Context is not important here, because the fact of the matter is that I see this sexualized attitude towards breasts and bras all the time, and I can’t stand it.

Finding a woman’s breasts attractive is not, in and of itself, inherently a bad thing. It’s an aesthetic disposition that I happen to share. In general, they’ve got a pleasing shape, they’re kind of fun to manipulate, and they tend to be attached to people that I like. Thinking any particular body part is sexy isn’t really the issue here.

The issue is that I cannot choose to wear or not wear certain tops or undergarments, in order to be physically comfortable, without my choice somehow making other people feel entitled to comment, criticize, or stare. The idea is that by wearing clothes which partially reveal my breasts, or by choosing not to wear a bra even beneath “conservative” attire, or even by simply, by virtue of nature, having large mammaries (or, indeed, breasts at all), I have no right to complain if others make degrading or unwanted sexual advances. Somehow, by the mere virtue of being a female who happens to have a couple interestingly-shaped lumps of fat on my chest, I’ve given up all right to be treated with respect or dignity.

There’s really nothing one can do to avoid it. Even if I do all the “right” things, wearing horrible contraptions under my clothes that make me uncomfortable, totally covering anything that could be construed as suggestive or “inappropriate”, constantly hunching over to draw less attention to my chest (the real burden of having breasts — not the weight on your back, not the strain on your shoulders), because they are large, and noticeable, people will still sexualize them and feel entitled to harass me based on their very existence.

On the subject of cleavage? Dude, they’re big. A shirt which shows nothing on a smaller girl still ends up showing cleavage on someone with larger breasts. Unless I cover myself almost up to the neck, there’s going to be a little bit. I don’t have to wear anything with an excessively low neckline in order to achieve the effect; and I’m certainly not going to wear uncomfortably hot clothes in the summer, in 80 degree weather, or even, really, if I just don’t feel like wearing something that covers my entire body. I’m not going to try to hide them and pretend they’re not there and I’m not going to be ashamed that they exist.

On the subject of bras? I think they’re a joke. I find them uncomfortable and unbearable. I haven’t worn one in about three years. Whatever one finds most comfortable, I think, is really key. I have a hard time understanding why anyone would voluntarily wear one, but I don’t understand the appeal of smearing colorful goop one’s face or wearing shoes that are impossible to walk in that cause back pain, either. I kind of like having smooth skin but shaving’s not high on my list of priorities on account of the fact that it takes a lot of time and effort and I get ingrown hairs easily. This is my preference. I don’t really care what other people want to do to themselves. What I do care about is the social expectation, the cultural norm. The idea that I have to do these things which make me uncomfortable and cause me pain, otherwise I am “not taking care of myself” or I’m “asking” for unwanted attention — and that either way, whether I really live up to the standard or not, either way it is still an excuse that my actions make me deserving of harassment and mistreatment.

I think the real problem here is the sexualization of women’s breasts. As I said earlier, I don’t see anything really wrong with finding them sexy, but this is more of an incidental, decentralized kind of attraction, kind of like, “he has nice eyes” or “I think she has sexy elbows” or…whatever. What I mean by the term “sexualization” is the idea that breasts are inherently sexual objects (and therefore at once indecent and also the focus of sexual attention) when, really, breasts are not any more sexual than any other feature of the body. Breasts serve a very specific biological purpose: to feed babies.

Breasts do not exist to be stared at, and their very presence on a person’s body does not suddenly mean that their owner abdicates all right to respect or dignity. The fact that I have breasts is not an invitation for clearly unwanted sexual attention (mostly from straight men) or for verbal abuse (more or less from anyone). There are many issues at work here: the sense of entitlement to women’s bodies, especially on the part of many heterosexual men, but also in general; cultural conformity; the idea that women exist for the sexual pleasure and objectification of men, coupled with the idea that anything sexual is evil and bad. But I don’t have the time and energy to deconstruct all that just now. I’m too tired from even thinking about the vastness of it all.

This attitude about breasts is not really the problem. It’s a symptom of so much else that’s wrong with the world. But, in and of itself, it’s awful enough. In order to avoid this sort of attention, I should not have to try to cover all traces of their shape, their function. Is an organ developed to nurture children really indecent or obscene? What does that say about the priorities of my culture?

For now, some interesting links to pursue:

007b is a site with some good content, but probably NSFW (not that it really should be; it’s just pictures of breastfeeding mothers and the like). Among the highlights are a page on why women wear bras and whether or not there’s really any reason to aside from social pressure, and a gallery of pictures of normal, average breasts showing the variety of shapes and sizes they come in, to try to give the viewer a bit of a sense of perspective.

And then a link I remembered seeing linked at Alas a bit ago, which I think speaks for itself.

Finally, an old fem_rage post which perhaps describes my feelings about the matter more accurately but less articulately and with a lot more cursing.

Every activist has hir pet issues. Feminists, especially. Mine are gender and sexuality.

It’s not that I don’t care about abortion rights; I do. It’s not that I don’t care about the wage gap. It’s not that my range of concerns isn’t far-reaching and wide. It’s not that I don’t care about racism, or poverty, or war, because these are all things I feel very strongly about. It’s not that I’m not keeping track of the news and not as if I don’t talk about it with friends and family, but why post about it here when there are plenty of other blogs which already do so and so much better than I possibly could?

What I mostly find myself concerned with writing about are the politics of gender and sex and sexuality. The concepts and constructs. Thus, even though I am not trans (not exactly cisgendered, either — genderqueer? maybe) I find myself talking about trans issues all the time, as an example, or reading up on intersex conditions, etc. I’ve been trying to pinpoint exactly why this is. Why should I have such a profound interest in areas which have only very little to do with me?

I suppose it’s because I’m radical. Radical feminism is critical analysis, it’s seeing the whole picture, examining the entire framework, and finding the roots. Dismantling all the false assumptions on which the entire system thrives; because patterns of thought and behavior, especially those which are deeply embedded in the larger cultural psyche, are like weeds. Ideas are a living, growing, dynamic process. You can try to cut them down by hacking away at the growth, at the visible, conscious manifestations and their results and, in fact, this is necessary in order to allow a clear view of anything. However, until you take out the roots from which these ideas issue, the growth will always spring back, again and again. This is why feminist theory is just as important as feminist action and feminist organizing.

And all flawed systems, it seems, from sexism to racism to organized religion, any hierarchy you can imagine, depend on artificial constructions arising from the idea of duality. The construction of false dichotomies. The framework of diametrically opposed points, when, in fact, everything is a spectrum: male and female, masculine and feminine, good and evil, mental and physical, spiritual and material. It’s not that none of these things exist, it’s that they’re not a simple binary as so many people suppose.

So perhaps my pet causes aren’t always visible in the real world, not totally apparent to the untrained eye, perhaps too abstract and theoretical for everyone to readily grasp all the time — that doesn’t mean they’re not important. That doesn’t mean that they have nothing to do with me, or only a narrow application to certain small groups of people. Theoretical constructions affect everyone and have a huge impact on how we view the world. And so the basic assumptions which make a sexist social hierarchy possible to begin with — our current narrow concepts of sex and gender — need to be challenged. It’s only when these assumptions are dissected that the corrupt system issuing from them can be effectively dismantled.

Dealing With Straight People:

If I fit a stereotype too well, straight people will tell me I’m being “too” queer. Similarly, if I bring up queer issues or rights or challenge heteronormative assumptions, I am, again, being “too” queer. The implication here is that I somehow need to try to assimilate into straight culture and be more straight. This is often not because there is anything wrong with being queer, but simply because bringing up these issues or being myself (if myself happens to fit a particular stereotype) makes others uncomfortable because it is different. Therefore, I need to alter my behavior, interests, appearance, and/or activism in order to make the dominant party more comfortable so that they either a) don’t have to treat me like a human being or b) don’t have to bear the fight for queer rights on their conscience.

If I love myself for who I am and am not apologetic, if I love who I love for who they are and still don’t feel the need to apologize, and if I feel like talking about it openly or contributing to a conversation among straight people concerning everyone’s partners, I am “flaunting my sexuality”. They are allowed to talk about their opposite-sex partners at length, but if I talk about a girlfriend, even in a non-explicit manner perfectly appropriate for casual conversation, I am giving them “too much information” which some of them will inform me they “really don’t want to hear”. I don’t mind hearing about your opposite-sex attractions, and I’m generally more reserved about my own personal preferences, tastes, and partners than most people are about theirs, so I don’t really understand why this is so horrible for me to mention that, yes, I happen to like girls, in passing.

(And, truthfully, here I exaggerate. Many queer people I know have complained about being treated this way, but, thankfully, all the straight people I associate with don’t suck. At least not in this way. I try not to be friends with people who show me no respect — it took far too long for this to occur to me, however.)

Also: bisexuals don’t exist. I’m not “really” queer. Bi men are simply homosexual and in the closet and it’s only a matter of time before they come out. I, as a woman who is not strictly homo or hetero, am apparently attracted to women solely so that I can get the attention of men. One day, it is assumed I will find the right man and settle down with him and pop out straight babies; if I actually do find a man I would want to spend my life with, the people who think this will assume that they were correct to begin with, but they are not, though there will be nothing I can do to convince them otherwise.

Dealing With Queer People:

If I don’t fit a stereotype, queer people will tell me I’m not queer “enough”. I will hear queer friends talk about the stereotypes that all queer people are supposed to fit, even when I am in the room and I clearly don’t fit them, and the person in question doing the stereotyping does not, either. (Unfortunately, this generalization is far more based in my own reality and experience than most of the dealing with straight people ones.)

Not only by being a femme queer woman does the queer community itself exclude and marginalize me as a member, giving off the illusion that we don’t exist, that we’re faking, that we aren’t good enough, but since I am not strictly a lesbian I am, again, assumed to be fictional, and for the same reasons that straight people assume that I am lying or do not exist.

If I do not enjoy participating in pride events because of my claustrophobia in large crowds and distaste for the atmosphere, I not being a “good” queer. If I don’t enjoy being part of a group of people with whom I have nothing in common other than my queerness (despite personality conflicts, no common interests, or facing totally opposing viewpoints), I’m not a good queer. If I do not enjoy wearing rainbow paraphernalia I am not being a good queer either.

Dealing With Everyone:

If I, as a pansexual woman, decide to date a man, people (regardless of their own orientation) will assume that I am now straight, as if by acting on one aspect of my attraction I have somehow forgotten about the rest. I saw a good post on this subject on the LJ queer_rage community, challenging the assumption by some homosexuals that bi/pan people benefit from an implicit privilege in our heteronormative society. Yes, if I date a man I will benefit from people’s misplaced assumption that I am straight, and perhaps will be free from some of the more blatant homophobia which might confront me if my date were a woman (which is unfair and truly unfortunate), but is being assumed to be something that you are not really a privilege? Is a huge portion of your person being ignored or treated as if it does not exist really a benefit? Does my existence being made invisible mean that I really have the privilege of appearing straight when I am not? I suppose the same “assumed straight” privilege can be extended to queers in the closet, but does anyone truly believe that’s a comfortable place to be?

(Mind you, I understand the resentment from the queer side of the argument, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with it. Being treated as straight when I’m not is just as hurtful to me as it is to any other queer, whether it means prejudiced people are less likely to give me a hard time or not. It’s simply expressed in different and often more subtle, extremely damaging ways.)

Heteronormitivity is everyone’s enemy.

Also: I can’t stand people who feel the need to know my orientation. Are you gay or straight? Are you a lesbian? Are you bi? But I thought you were — but you look — but you act — but you said…

Look, if I’m attracted to you in a remotely meaningful way, you’ll know. I’ll tell you or flirt with you or make it obvious in some other way. (Or, the more likely and more common scenario — I will definitely let you know if I’m not interested in you, just so there is no confusion. If you really need to know if I feel that way about you or some other particular person…ask?) If I’m not? Can’t see why it should matter to you. Do you really need to put me in a box? If we’re not romantically or sexually involved, is it relevant? Are you so insecure that you must always know exactly what label everyone fits so that you feel in control? So that you don’t feel confused? I’m perfectly allowed to be ambiguous about it if my sexuality has nothing to do with my relationship to you. If you are my friend or someone I really care about, I may try to explain myself to you. Or I may not. If it’s not your sex life, why do you actually care?

Dealing With Me:

I like the word “queer” as a descriptor. I pride myself on the original definition of the word, the perceived insult of not being normal, not being like everyone else. Of course, if a homophobe uses it as an insult I will still be offended, not because of the choice of word — anything can be hurtful if the person behind it thinks it is something that should be.

“Queer” is an open-ended word, inclusive of the entire GLBTQXYZ umbrella. It can mean just about anything that is not the default assumption. I can be anything if I’m queer, so long as I’m me. I don’t have to be a lesbian, I don’t have to be bi, I don’t have to define myself in any stricter terms because I am me.

That’s all I want to be.

Obviously, this will not come as new information to everybody, but I feel it is important enough to warrant repeating again and again, especially where issues of gender and sex are going to come up more than once. I believe that in the few comments I’ve already received this requires clarification.

Listen carefully:

There are not two genders. There are not even two sexes.

This is fundamental to understanding my point of view and any feminist or queer discourse. Without realizing that this is the underlying assumption within my arguments, misunderstandings are certain to arise. Even those who know what I am talking about without an explanation could stand to keep it in mind, because the people who do not fit into these narrow categories of male and female, masculine and feminine, are too often forgotten and marginalized within the greater context of feminist debate, which is entirely unfortunate. I know I do this too on occasion, in order to simplify my explanations, however, I hope that everyone will realize that I do carefully consider every gender when I form my opinions, not simply a narrow binary of male and female, and that I try to carefully craft my language to be as inclusive as possible, even if it goes unappreciated by those unfamiliar with the idea of gender and sex as a spectrum.

Sex:

A person’s sex is dependent on genitalia. A penis is a male sexual organ, the vulva, female. Sex is physical a combination of medical, biological, and genetic characteristics. Not everyone’s sex is purely male or female — there is a wide range of variation. Intersex people are born with a medical condition where they possess ambiguous or mixed physical sexual characteristics. Usually, in the past, these people were called “hermaphrodites” (now an antiquated term which can be considered offensive). Advances in medicine also allow for sex-reassignment surgery and hormonal treatments which may leave a transsexual patient “in between” sexes, so to speak, and therefore sex is a continuum between male and female features.

For this reason, rather than discussing “male” and “female” medical issues, I will always refer to “people with testicles” if I am discussing testicular cancer for example, “people with uteruses” if discussing women’s reproductive issues, “people with vaginas” if discussing the vagina, et cetera. This is also more inclusive and acknowledges the existence of women who have had hysterectomies and men who have had their testicles removed, as well; thus, no one’s gender identity is contingent, in my writing, on the presence or absence of a certain set of narrowly defined physical characteristics.

The idea that a woman is not defined by a vagina, by a vulva, by a womb, is one of the basic ideals of any truly meaningful and inclusive form of feminism. Any feminist who defines a woman based on her genitalia is fundamentally no better than the systems of oppression that we try to fight. I am a radical feminist, meaning I believe in the deconstruction of every assumption and framework used to define and oppress women and other marginalized genders, but I am willing to accept almost anyone under the feminist umbrella who has the basic ideals of male and female equality, even if we have wildly divergent ideas about what this means or what is important. However, any so-called “feminist” who defines women based on their bodies will not be considered truly feminist by me, because that is the same attitude utilized by the patriarchy to strip women of their identities.

No one would say a cisgender woman without a womb was no longer a woman if she’d had uterine cancer and had it removed. I don’t see why this is any less true for a transwoman born without one — any argument that these issues are not the same is nothing more than hypocrisy and transphobia. The problem is, a transwoman may need specialized medical care based on the body parts she does have, and this is why the recognition of those organs is still important despite the wide range of variation in physical sex.

Because sex is changeable and sometimes is not clear due to birth defects, genetic abnormalities or whatever other reason, I think sex as a category is a useful tool of categorization for the vast majority of the population but from a real standpoint, essentially a meaningless concept with no real definition. I rarely speak of physical sex for this reason. It may be based in statistically relevant biological human trends, but that does not make it a reasonable indicator of very many things beyond the chromosomal level — and, sometimes, not even then. It is good for sweeping generalizations and nothing else.

This is, incidentally, also why I think any claims of inherent biological differences between the sexes are bunk. We can’t even clearly define what sex is, at least not from a two-sexes perspective, because it’s entirely too complex. A binary division of sex is totally arbitrary and ignores the reality of many individuals who do not fit within either category. They are only a very, very small percentage of the population, but that makes it all the more important to recognize their existence because otherwise they will not receive the specialized medical care that they need. They are effectively rendered invisible by the assumption of an absolute binary system.

The problems with gender and sexual identity raised here are easily solved through simple, conscious re-structuring of language. Hence, I refer to people with certain body parts when I mean to talk about certain body parts, rather than relying on sex as an indicator. This is more precise and accurate language anyway. I do not see why this would be an issue of contention, though I know some people are very defensive about having their dualities challenged and will rail loudly in favor of their right to free speech even when it hurts, dismisses, and denies even the existence of certain groups of other people. These people are being cruel, dismissive of others’ unique experiences and issues, and enforcing their own views of what other people are onto people who do not themselves subscribe to that identity. This is Wrong. I am not willing to say that many things are absolute moral wrongs, but the absolute sense of entitlement over another person’s very being is one of them.

This is not up for debate in this forum: the entire premise this blog is based on is the basic human right of every individual to self-identify, and that another person questioning the existence or validity of another’s identity is a violation of that right. If you do not agree with this idea, even in the abstract idealism of a perfect world, you need to stop reading and leave now, or otherwise realize that I will never engage you in a debate on this topic and will not allow you to post comments questioning this subject. This is not censorship; you’re free to disagree elsewhere and I’m free to judge you and believe this to be not only unspeakably rude behavior, but a fundamental moral flaw. You’re free to call me a bitch, and I’m free to ignore you and continue a blissful life which does not involve rude people derailing, invalidating, and clogging up my blog.

Gender:

Gender, at least in the modern academic sense, as used in feminist and queer theory and thus in my writing, is a function of personality. It is not in any way necessarily connected to physical sex. It is an identity, a label one gives oneself. (It goes without saying that the paragraph above applies to this definition of gender, too. Debate elsewhere.) That is the point of self-definition. Gender is a characteristic integral to one’s identity which is defined only by oneself to define oneself. No one else can tell an individual what hir gender is. Ze can only decide for hirself. (Note: confused? Ze and hir.)

Most people are cisgendered. They identify strongly with their physical sex as male or female. For them, this issue is simple and the words “gender” and “sex” seem synonymous and interchangeable. However, they are not. I will never replace one for the other because I use them with extremely specific definitions. I try to refer to “wo/men” in terms of gender identity, “fe/males” in terms of sex. There is evidence that gender is a product of brain structure, which does not always correlate to physical sex, however, I’m inclined to say that the reason is a fascinating scientific inquiry but largely irrelevant. People ID as they ID. The reason why has no bearing on their identity, and identity can be fluid.

Some people ID as the “opposite” gender from the sex they were born into. They are transgender. Often, the traditional social role of gender is confused with gender identity. It is assumed that certain behaviors are part of gender identity, when, in fact, there can be many reasons for a person to behave as they do and form the preferences they have which have absolutely nothing to do with either gender identity or biology. (As some who believe either in brain structure differences or the correlation between sex and gender would have us believe.) This is a huge issue with trans people who are attempting to medically transition — the medical establishment is usually discriminatory and assumes that a person who does not act the part of a certain gender role cannot possibly really be the gender they ID as. This is a very real and extremely harmful effect of people’s personal identities not being taken seriously, and is exactly why the right to self-definition is not up for debate. There are too many real victims in this and many other cases for me to give any ground on the pretense of being friendly or approachable. The search for radical change in the name of justice and human rights is not going to be soft and fluffy and accessible to those who oppose this goal.

Cisgender people are given a greater range of expression within the confines of the social gender role, although when they step outside of that box, their sexual orientation or, to a lesser extent, gender identity is often questioned. This is often more lenient for women than it is for men — which may be counted as a blessing but not a feminist victory. The fact that women can act in a “masculine” way, but men who act in a “feminine” way are often mocked, derided, and sometimes even targets for physical violence is unfair and horrible for the man who does not fit the masculine gender role. However the patriarchy hurts these men, it is a side effect of the real problem; they are still not the real victims, because the idea that being feminine is inherently “bad” or “lesser” is evidence of the deep misogyny of society. Women’s relative freedom in this regard compared to men may seem to be the oppression of men at the hands of the patriarchy, but it is merely an incidental effect of the oppression of women. This is not to say that this is not horrible for everyone involved or that it should be accepted, but that the continued fight for feminism is the solution to this problem as well.

Not everyone’s gender identity fits into one of these categories, and most people’s fall somewhere between gender roles. Genderqueer is a blanket term used by anyone who IDs somewhere outside the binary and wishes to describe hirself this way.

Sexuality:

Because of the complexity of the gender and sex spectrums, sexuality is an increasingly difficult subject. I find most existing terms to be problematic because they equate sex with gender and operate based on binary assumptions. In general, heterosexual people identify strongly as one gender and are attracted to people who either have the “opposite” sex, gender identity, or gender role. It can be a combination of these. Homosexuality is the compliment. What it means to that individual is up to them to decide. What attracts people to certain partners is a deeply individual thing which may have more to do with appearance than sex, sex than gender, gender identity than sex or appearance, or, well…you get the idea. And it can be none of these things.

Bisexuality, strictly speaking, by operating on the assumptions of the binary, excludes genderqueer, trans, and intersex people. Many people who ID as bisexual do not actually feel this way (some do), but I still see the binary assumption to be an issue. For this reason, I ID as pansexual, meaning that I have the capacity to be potentially attracted to members of any sex or gender, although I will not lie and say there are not certain physical or aesthetic characteristics which appeal to me more physically, and that there are not certain self-identified characteristics which I find more attractive. However, I, personally, fall into the “primarily attracted for none of the above reasons” camp and am mostly only physically attracted to people with attractive personalities.

So there is pansexual and the synonym, omnisexual. There is pomosexual, or Post Modern Sexuality, which rejects gender as a social construct and not an actual meaningful descriptor, which is, again, problematic, because while I believe gender roles are a social construct, and think that in many cases gender identity is similar — I do not have the right to question that identity, an artificial social construct in my mind or not. All that matters is that others ID that way, and by labelling that identity a “construct” I would be implying it is false. I don’t have the right to do that. I think that pomosexuality is well-intentioned and, at heart, mostly a good idea, but it skirts shady ethical territory for me.

In Conclusion:

Well, there really is no conclusion, except to say that gender, sexuality, and even physical sex have no real boundaries, and work together but don’t necessarily have anything to do with one another. All of them exist on a wide and diverse spectrum upon which the individual in question has the right to place hirself, however ze likes, wherever ze likes, whenever ze likes, and for whatever reason, without needing to explain, justify, or prove hirself to anyone else. This is the one basic underlying principle upon which all of my philosophy is based.