Your genitals do not define your identity

Western society tends to have a very binary view on gender. “Men” and “women” Your reproductive organ defines whether you are “a man” or “a woman”.

Heteronormative bullshit

Around the concepts or “men” and “woman” are enitre landscapes and building blocks of assumptions and social constructs which include several “behavioral directions” (“you can / cannot do/feel/experience this because you are a [man/woman].”)

Heteronormative bullshit is only one aspect of this. In short: “As a man you should [fill in some random “manly” thing]“. “As a female you should [fill in some random “womanly” thing]“.

Heteronormative bullshit claims one very specific and limited aspect of gender and identity. It then constructs an entire world of “truths” around them that probably only roughly applies to about 1% of our entire population: giving it the same authority and weight as the shit and the poop-stained paper I flush through the toilet each morning after pooping. None. What. So. Ever.

From “being your penis/vagina” to “bearing your penis/vagina”

There is this wonderful word: “bearing”. It is related to: “carrying around”. When you apply this to ‘gender’, a ‘man’ becomes a: “penis bearing body”. A ‘woman’ becomes a: “vagina bearing person”.

It dis-attaches the reproductive organs you are wearing from the body you mind is using and living in.

Now imagine! From identifying yourself with your penis or your vagina, suddenly the penis and/or vagina becomes something you are carrying around with you! Like your coat and your clothing do not define you, your genitals do not define you either.

What a fucking liberating thought.

As a bearer of a vagina, I can:

  1. Stand up and say whatever I want to.
  2. Do “manly stuff” like solving complex mathematical problems, discover X-Rays and nuclear radiation, write complex computer code in Assembly, do paragliding, shooting pistols, piss wherever suited when my bladder is full, play soccer and football, curse whatever way I like, scratch my cunt and my tits in public when they itch and assemble my IKEA furniture with my power tools.
  3. Drive (formula one) cars, fly earoplanes, operate big cranes and ships.
  4. Repair cars.
  5. Write books. Defend big corporations in court. Vote. (Yeah:  voting. Civilized world. Genitals.)
  6. Shamelessly flirt and kiss and have sex with one or more bearers of any reproductive organ if and when it feels right / our minds connect / my body feels like.

As a bearer of a penis, I can:

  1. Love and like fluffy things.
  2. Swoon (and add some drama when it fits the moment).
  3. Completely adore and woo over and collect pictures of: puppies, little ducklings, babies and kittens in baskets.
  4. Do “girly stuff” like dressing up, riding around the buggy with our adorable child in it, strike a pose like the Venus of Milo when taking a shower, comb the hair of my friends and girlfriends and use words like “cute” and “adorable” in every other sentence.
  5. Cook meals. Make jams. Clean the house. Be even more anal about this than my mother. Long for that moment where I can carry a baby in my imaginary womb.
  6. Knit sweaters.
  7. Shamelessly flirt and kiss and have sex with one or more bearers of any reproductive organ if and when it feels right / our minds connect / my body feels like.

(And here is the really stupid part. It is 2013 as I write this. By now this list should be completely ridiculous. Like: “Yeah Zabor. Whatever. All men / woman all around the world already do this and more. Get out of your cave on that remote hill in the woods for once. What is your effing point?”)

My genitals do not define my identity

What I long for or desire is not defined by my penis or vagina. Neither is my identity.

One last thought

The discrimination on “sex” is actually a discrimination on genitals.

THE END

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