Genderhuh? Part one: Childhood.
This was more or less directly inspired by reading griffen's account of being transgender, particularly his childhood.
I don't have many specific memories of my life up to six years old. But I can remember the general flow: I was a tomboy, I wore overalls and kept getting them dirty, I loved running and climbing trees and drawing and painting and cutting and gluing and lego and other construction toys. I have memories of, on social occasions, being told to try to be more quiet and not damage my clothes - I can reconstruct a pretty loud and boisterous kid.
I think the main bunch of friends I spent time with were all boys except for me, but I'm not sure, because it just wasn't something I was paying attention to at the time. It only really occurred to me as a teenager, when I was the only girl in a bunch of boys (again?). We hung out in the back, wilder, playground of the kindergarten I was at, played a lot of chase games, climbed trees and onto the roof of the old tramcar that was a central feature of the playground, and I have a specific memory of a dare session that involved trying to get into the drains at the back. (I don't think we could get the safety grille off, in the end.)
I do remember sometimes taking part in "mum and dad and kids" games with girls. I was always the dad, who went to work, which suited me great, because I could go and build railway tracks and bridges and stuff. Usually I'd forgotten all about the game by the time they wanted me back, to be dad arriving home from work. It felt like a very strange game, but not because I was playing "dad". I don't remember wondering about the fact that it was "mum" at home with kids all day, and "dad" who went to work. Those were just some of the rules of that game. They applied to real life the same way the rules of tag did. My parents both worked. The kindergarten had both male and female staff.
So, reading about griffen's childhood, I was struck by how remarkably similar we were, except for one thing. I never felt like a boy, I never wanted to be a boy, I don't really know how to begin explaining how alien any idea like that would have been. I was a girl the same way I was brown-haired and left-handed and had my birthday in November and could run fast. They were just facts about me and my body.
I don't remember anyone ever telling me "girls should [fitb]" or "you're not a real girl if you [fitb]". And I don't know how I'd have begun to process a statement like that. I mean, it was just so obvious I was a girl, how could my behaviour or interests have anything to do with that? My body, my developmental processes and (eventually) hormones would take care of any and all female-ness or male-ness, it wasn't anything I had to concern myself about. Acting differently or dressing differently to be a "real" girl, or a "real" boy for that matter, made as much sense as trying to act in a way that'd change my birthday.
Obviously I didn't think about it in those kinds of terms then, but I'm trying to convey the complete alienness of "real girl" and the idea that I might not have been one in some people's eyes. I was far too busy being me.
I don't have many specific memories of my life up to six years old. But I can remember the general flow: I was a tomboy, I wore overalls and kept getting them dirty, I loved running and climbing trees and drawing and painting and cutting and gluing and lego and other construction toys. I have memories of, on social occasions, being told to try to be more quiet and not damage my clothes - I can reconstruct a pretty loud and boisterous kid.
I think the main bunch of friends I spent time with were all boys except for me, but I'm not sure, because it just wasn't something I was paying attention to at the time. It only really occurred to me as a teenager, when I was the only girl in a bunch of boys (again?). We hung out in the back, wilder, playground of the kindergarten I was at, played a lot of chase games, climbed trees and onto the roof of the old tramcar that was a central feature of the playground, and I have a specific memory of a dare session that involved trying to get into the drains at the back. (I don't think we could get the safety grille off, in the end.)
I do remember sometimes taking part in "mum and dad and kids" games with girls. I was always the dad, who went to work, which suited me great, because I could go and build railway tracks and bridges and stuff. Usually I'd forgotten all about the game by the time they wanted me back, to be dad arriving home from work. It felt like a very strange game, but not because I was playing "dad". I don't remember wondering about the fact that it was "mum" at home with kids all day, and "dad" who went to work. Those were just some of the rules of that game. They applied to real life the same way the rules of tag did. My parents both worked. The kindergarten had both male and female staff.
So, reading about griffen's childhood, I was struck by how remarkably similar we were, except for one thing. I never felt like a boy, I never wanted to be a boy, I don't really know how to begin explaining how alien any idea like that would have been. I was a girl the same way I was brown-haired and left-handed and had my birthday in November and could run fast. They were just facts about me and my body.
I don't remember anyone ever telling me "girls should [fitb]" or "you're not a real girl if you [fitb]". And I don't know how I'd have begun to process a statement like that. I mean, it was just so obvious I was a girl, how could my behaviour or interests have anything to do with that? My body, my developmental processes and (eventually) hormones would take care of any and all female-ness or male-ness, it wasn't anything I had to concern myself about. Acting differently or dressing differently to be a "real" girl, or a "real" boy for that matter, made as much sense as trying to act in a way that'd change my birthday.
Obviously I didn't think about it in those kinds of terms then, but I'm trying to convey the complete alienness of "real girl" and the idea that I might not have been one in some people's eyes. I was far too busy being me.