A celebration of the Square Peg.

Just recently I was reading an interesting article on gender-affirming, the recommended approach that is to be taken as people move towards medically assisted sex reassignment. In reading the article and subsequent dialogue, I was struck by what felt like undertones of homophobia. Let me explain.

As a Butch, and I’m sure that many can relate, it is not an easy road to walk; being female-bodied with a masculine gender expression seems to push buttons for many. Many feel discomfort, if not anger, at meeting someone who they struggle to pigeonhole. Because of how we present, despite our anatomy, we are chased out of women’s washrooms, typically have confrontations at change/dressing rooms, struggle in our dealings with health practitioners, feel unwelcome in men’s and women’s clothing stores, and regardless of how deserving we might be, there are no cards in the greeting card section that have been written for us.

In my youth, seemingly well-meaning people (and for some, I know it was because of the embarrassment of being seen with me in public), advised, often persistently, that I needed to choose, and that until I chose to be a real man or a real woman that I should expect my life to be a constant and dangerous struggle. I have to admit that the idea had some appeal, particularly as I saw friends start T and have double mastectomies and with that gain male privilege, and other friends give up that privilege as their bodies changed shape with estrogen injections. I recall one such friend describing their surprise to discover that suddenly major negotiable purchases became more expensive, that they were constantly being interrupted, and that despite having the same qualifications that they had when they had been in a male body, now female, those same qualifications were somehow devalued. All of this tells us that we are living in a world divided by two sexes, with some pretty firm ideas on how each sex is to behave. And of course, one very strict expectation is to have opposite-sex attraction, and for those who transitioned their elation would be so evident as they talked about what it was like to be treated as a heterosexual couple, somehow their relationship validated by society, and not just validated, celebrated. They had gone from receiving looks of abhorrence to full acceptance and respect.

But despite the glossy brochure I remained, and remain unconvinced, because I am not male and have no desires to be seen as such, and heterosexuality which I’m sure has appeal for some, is not for me. Of course, I recognize that some are born into the wrong body, and for those, my heart goes out for the pain that they endure, and where sex reassignment, must go someway to alleviate, but can never completely eradicate that suffering. But this is not me, I am Butch, and I like it that way, and the femme who walks on my arm, brave and proud, would never be something I would give up. The rarity of who she is could never be replaced especially by a woman who needs me to be a man. It is not I who needs to change, it is the cruelty of others that must. As we talk about gender affirmation, let's try having those conversations that allow for those who wish to remain in their natal bodies and who have a gender expression that does not conform to some societal manufactured ideology, let those conversations allow for same-sex attractions, and not be about “fixing” a problem. If there is a problem to be fixed it is not about reshaping the square peg to fit in the round hole, rather it involves adding some damn variety to the shapes of the holes. The natural environment was not meant to be turned into a golf course.