Gender Roles

When I was about 9 or 10, I remember sitting next to my dad on an airplane. As we waited for the plane to take off, I was sitting there with my right leg crossed over my left leg - my right ankle resting on my left knee. My dad looked at my posture and said, “that’s how a boy sits.” He took my right leg in his hands and moved it so that the back of my right knee was touching the front of my left knee, so my thighs were touching and legs were closed. He jokingly moved my leg back and forth a couple of times explaining, “boy sits, girl sits”. Even though I recognize this as my dad being playful, and I know he wouldn’t have been upset if I sat the other way, this memory sticks out to me. “Why is this a rule,” I thought, “when I’m physically capable, as a girl, of sitting this way?” 

Categorizing people, places, and things is something we do as humans. It’s helpful to understand the world around us. A category provides information about what something looks like, acts like, and how it relates to the bigger picture. When events happen that are outside of the expected behavior of a “category,” it confuses people and we want to find a way to “justify” the behavior. We have categories for food like fruit, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins, fats, etc. When deciding what to eat, you may pick a combination of these categories to make sure you have a balanced diet. Have you heard people argue about whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable? Some people can get really animated. We categorize learning curriculum based on different subjects. It is understood that someone pursuing a degree in mathematics doesn't necessarily need to take a drama course in order to be a successful mathematician. We categorize locations based on climates and we expect certain weather patterns based on these categories. If you visited San Diego, CA in the middle of July and it was cold and raining, you would think “this is unusual weather for southern California.” 

As a culture, we’ve categorized people as either male or female largely based on their biological sex organs. If a baby is born with a penis (or what looks like one), it is called a boy. If a baby is born with a vagina (or what looks like one), it is called a girl. Then as the child grows up, it is taught to behave in a way that a “girl” or a “boy” would behave. But gender is not that easy to define! Gender is not just “girl” or “boy”, “male” or “female”. Even sex organs are not as easy as "penis or vagina," “testes or ovaries”, “XY or XX”. The term intersex describes a variety of conditions in which a person’s sexual or reproductive anatomy does not fit the typical definition of female or male when they are born. Around 1 in 1,500 to 1 in 2,000 babies are born with atypical genitalia. The point is, even biologically speaking, sex is not one or the other. 

I think, in general, categorizing can be helpful. However, when it comes to something as nuanced as a human being, categorizing behavior based on a binary idea stifles self-expression and causes a great deal of shame and guilt. Gender is a spectrum. Telling a boy he is not allowed to play with dolls just because “boys don’t do that” is different than telling a boy he can’t flap his arms and fly away. Why do we teach children to behave in a way that is not based on their physical capabilities but instead on a belief that we made up?

My parents never forbade me from doing anything that was too “boyish” when I was young, but all the media and cultural “norms” I grew up with definitely “steered” me in a direction. In elementary school, girls were required to wear a dress or skirt uniform while boys wore pants or shorts. Outside of elementary school, I grew up watching Disney movies which taught me, as a girl, that I am a “damsel in distress” who must be “saved” by a prince. When I was a preteen, I remember reading my older sister’s Teen Vogue (or was it Seventeen?) magazines which talked about make-up and crushes on boys and first kiss stories. On the one hand, my parents would say things like “you can do anything/be anything you want,” and I knew that was theoretically true. On the other hand, I saw the way my classmates poked fun at the androgynous choices one girl made during free-dress days and I didn’t want to stick out. So I spent most of my time growing up trying to “blend in.” I went to a public high school, so no uniforms. I did what I could to express myself through clothing, but I was still very soft spoken and didn’t have many close friends. In a school of 3,000 kids, I flew under the radar enough that I didn’t fall prey to any “mean girls” (at least not to my face). When I started having sex, I knew I couldn’t talk openly about it because 1) I didn’t have a boyfriend and 2) I didn’t plan on turning my sexual encounters into an exclusive relationship. If I had been a boy, my friends would have cheered me on, celebrating my “conquests.” Being a girl meant I was a “slut” to anyone who knew about what I was doing. I remember one time, I was hanging out with a boy from one of my classes. We had smoked some pot together and were casually watching TV. Suddenly, he said his mom would be home soon and asked if we were going to have sex or not. I said “no, why” kind of surprised and he said “oh, I thought that’s what you do.” In that moment, I thought “oh shit, who else thinks this about me? Who told him? Who has he told?” 

When I met my now husband, I hadn’t had a long term relationship before. I had “dated” (read: slept) around, but he was the first person I could see myself committing to long term. So growing sexually was a new concept to me. Up until this relationship, the only sex I was used to having was the spur-of-the-moment, lustful sex you have with someone who you don’t plan on seeing again or are only dating for a short time. Before Zach, I had never been with anyone long enough to get past the new relationship energy. After Zach and I made it out of the “honeymoon phase,” we started exploring alternative ways to get each other off. I was so used to being in the submissive role that when the idea presented itself that I could be dominant, I got a little nervous. Being dominant means I have to make decisions? I have to be assertive? I have to initiate and lead the sexual experience? Damsels in distress don’t lead! Being more assertive and decisive has always been a goal of mine. I know I can be flighty and timid. I’ve always wanted to work on this so you would think this was my perfect opportunity, right? Well, it was, but it took me awhile to appreciate it. It’s not easy for a timid person to jump right in to being dominant. Luckily I have a supportive partner who helped me by telling me what he thought would be sexy so I had a jumping off point. I’ve always enjoyed the art of acting so I started by “fleshing out my character” based on the skeletal structure that was my husband’s fantasy. It started off as acting, but as time went on, I realized I was getting really into my character. We would finish a scene and I’d be turned on and want to keep going. It was exhilarating and liberating to take on a new role in the bedroom. And low and behold, this “role play” I started experimenting with slowing started bleeding into my everyday life. I attribute much of the confidence I’ve gained over the years to these “acting” lessons. I guess there is some truth to the “fake it ‘til you make it” phrase. And if you do it right, some of the “faking” can lead to a very real orgasm.

Another memory I have from being a kid was always waiting until the last minute to decide on my Halloween costume. One year, I was particularly late. It must have been down to the day of Halloween. I decided I would dress up as a businessman. While the other girls my age were dressing up like their favorite princess, I was wearing a mascara mustache, one of my dad’s sport coats, and went trick-or-treating with his briefcase to hold my candy. It was last minute and it was awesome. My mom did a great job with the mustache. If I wasn’t prepubescent, people would have thought I was a real businessman. My point is, nobody else is you and no one’s idea of who you should be should matter, except yours. My wise (and slightly drunk) husband once said, “Gender is an idea” to the 711 attendant who was making fun of him wearing my “lady’s” sunhat. Yes, my love, you are exactly right. Thank you.

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