“Excuse me, Sir,” interjected the airport employee who tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to face her and she paused abruptly. A befuddled expression spread across her face. My hair was short and my casual clothes fit loosely, so her mistaking me for a guy was understandable. I smiled knowingly and she proceeded with her instructions. Although I kept it well concealed, this incident (and several others like it) set off an unexpectedly strong negative reaction in me. Despite the fact that I am not very feminine, I am comfortable being female, and this incident revealed just how important I feel it is to be identified as such. But why was it so upsetting to be mistaken for a guy? It was more than the unease of being assigned a label that did not align with my own self-identity. Being misidentified by gender was much more unsettling than if she had merely guessed my occupation incorrectly. Both are aspects of my identity, but gender carries such weight. Does it carry too much weight? Even in infancy, one’s gender is of utmost importance, and most parents go to great lengths to ensure that their baby’s gender is correctly identified. Why is that so important to us?
Most people hardly consider the pervasive impact that their core gender identity has on them because they are easily able to conform to society’s gender role expectations. However, this does not come naturally to me. I didn’t question my tomboy tendencies when I was a kid – I played football at recess and went back-to-school shopping in the boy’s department. Fortunately, girls are allowed to be tomboys. Unfortunately though, it’s assumed that we’ll grow out of this stage. When I didn’t grow out of it, the notion of gender and its cultural construction began to linger at the forefront of my mind. Through socialization, I learned the unwritten rules and the degree to which society demands conformity. As a result, I have lost the childlike confidence that once allowed me the privilege of considering my appearance to be inconsequential. Social conditioning engrains gender so deeply within our identity. In what ways is this beneficial? How might it be detrimental?
There are ample voices, both subtle and overt, telling me who I should be. Brené Brown advises that one must “Let go of who you think you should be so you can be who you are.” To a certain extent, I agree with this, so I do my best to ignore the belligerent voices (or at least filter them). I remind myself that it is my character that matters and that I am the same person whether I am wearing jeans or a skirt. My appearance has no bearing on my identity, but the two still seem to be inextricably linked. To what extent is identity tied to appearance? Ultimately, my identity is in Christ, so I want to learn to see myself the way God sees me. When I do, I will be free from the confines of criticism. I will be free to step into who I was created to be.