Someone once told me that gender is a performance.
If that’s true, then I’m hardwired to respond to that performance. But “performance” implies something you can turn on and off, and I’m not sure gender works that way.
I think gender is layered—it’s how you perceive yourself, but also how you perceive others. Sometimes, those perceptions don’t align. And sometimes, gender isn’t even about people, exactly. For example, movement. Maybe this is just me (though I doubt it), but I perceive certain movements as feminine, and I respond to them because of that. Then I wonder—why am I responding? I don’t know. I don’t think I’m meant to know. Some things in my brain and body just react, and that’s that.
I think we over-intellectualize these things, trying to fit them into neat boxes so we can step back and say, Ah, this makes sense. This is why I am the way I am. But then, something happens—bam—and suddenly, you realize you didn’t figure it out at all.
In the past, whenever I encountered something unexpected about gender, I got nervous. I’d walk away, maybe lock a door, and wait for that stupid thing in my brain to pass—because I didn’t like it. I hated the feeling of not being in control.
Nowadays, when something unexpected happens, I enjoy it. I keep it under lock and key. My approach now is: acknowledge it, don’t fight it, but don’t let it take command of you. And so far, that’s worked out.
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