Short Hair Don’t Care: How to Demonstrate To Strangers That You’re Female
Well, here’s the thing: I don’t actually know. Lots of people misgender me all the time. But I can at least conduct a proper empirical investigation. Here we go!
Hypothesis 1: Carry a purse.
I’m pretty sure this was my mother’s suggestion in first or second grade. I don’t remember it, but some of my friends from elementary school do. I don’t think I actually had a real purse, either, just, like, a satchel. (I remember one of my matching sweatshirts and sweat pants outfits — thanks, parents — came with a little drawstring bag made from the same fabric. It also had a fringe, because the fabric was cowboy-themed. Again, thanks, parents.)
Results:
As it turns out, being an androgynous-looking child and carrying what may or may not be a kiddy version of a purse doesn’t clarify your gender for strangers. They are still unable to discern whether you are a) a small girl wearing a bright red cowboy-patterned clothing set that they deem not appropriately feminine; b) a small boy carrying an over-the-shoulder bag that they deem not appropriately masculine; or c) neither of the above.
Hypothesis 2: Say you are female.
This should be fairly straightforward. Usually, both the stranger and I understand at least one language in common. Language is a tool for precise communication. It’s not rocket science.
Results:
Children are sometimes disbelieved about their own gender if an adult decides their behaviour and/or appearance don’t match the unspoken standards of what it means to be a girl or a boy (which, for an adult with this mindset, are the only two options). Older children will also simply recategorize you as “the boy who thinks he’s a girl” rather than “girl who says she is indeed a girl” or “child whose gender has absolutely zero bearing on my life.”
Adults tend to be believed more often. However, explaining one’s gender to everyone every single time one meets someone new is pretty emotionally exhausting (even if that gender is one most people have been taught is a gender and the body one has been assigned matches it — I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through this as a non-binary and/or transgender person).
Hypothesis 3: Avoid places and situations where distinctions are made by gender.
Ummm….
Results:
This would be approximately one place: Superman’s Fortress of Solitude, and then only when the Man of Steel isn’t home.
Unisex bathrooms are my favourite thing, mainly because I don’t get stares or dirty looks there (or, very occasionally, direct confrontation). But in real life, most public bathrooms, change rooms, and locker rooms are segregated by gender. Gender tends to be a big issue in religious services, since men and women are often treated differently — at my Jewish elementary school, only boys had to wear kippot, and if I had a nickel for every time a strange adult asked me sternly where mine was, I’d be closer to owning a home than I am now.
Even spaces that ostensibly have nothing to do with gender, where people of all genders are supposed to be treated equally, like shops and classrooms and the sidewalk, are chock full of gender expectations. I can get weird looks for taking or not taking a seat on the subway, ordering something “gendered” like a salad or a steak, or just not signalling instantly and clearly to passersby what pronouns they should use for me.
Hypothesis 4: Wear and emphasize gendered fashion traits
Maybe I am like one of those romantic-comedy women who are secretly hiding a conventionally beautiful, conforming-to-Western-standards-femininity babe beneath unflattering haircuts and baggy clothes. Except they are terrible at hiding, and I excel.
Results:
Long hair — Tried it for a few years. Disliked it. And still got questions like “Why does that man have long hair?”
Skirts — Skirts are okay now and then, but just like with the long hair, the way I behave makes some people flustered and confused when I’m wearing one.
More “feminine” clothes — I own collared shirts and ties, and I own more conventionally girly shirts with flutter sleeves and V-necks. I guess it’s nice to have the latter every once in a while, but more and more, I feel like I’m dressing up as someone else when I’m wearing tops with sparkly sequins that I never would choose to wear on a laid-back day.
Still, I will always be conducting random tests of this strategy because sometimes I do feel like wearing make-up, dresses, nail polish, etc. So I’ll never completely abandon it, nor, unfortunately, the feeling that I have to choose the girliest options in my wardrobe when I’m doing something like getting a haircut or meeting strangers, where perception of my gender will change the way I’m treated.
Hypothesis 5: DGAF and be happy being who I am
Before I dated Boyfriend, I was worried that I’d never be in a relationship with a man, because wouldn’t most straight guys (bi and pan and others being off my radar at the time) freak out to be in public with someone who sometimes reads to strangers as male?
It’s true, Boyfriend and I will sometimes both get called “sir” when we’re on a dinner date. But he doesn’t care. And, I started to realize, if he doesn’t, why should I?
In fact, why should I let other people dictate whether or not I’m allowed to be myself in public?
True, this won’t change the involuntary cringe-sting of another woman giving me the side-eye at the gym. But at least it means that most of the rest of the time, I can be happy with my ties and pixie cut and sometimes also nail polish. I can think of bad experiences as something wrong with the world, instead of something wrong with who I am when I’m me.
Results:
So far so good.