OREGON'S LGBTO NEWSMAGAZINE
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MAY 20. 2011
29
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In the Driver’s Seat?
Dear DMV,
I’m writing to tell you that your gender des
ignation on driver’s licenses hurts people. I
douht you set out to do so. To you, it was prob
ably just a handy way to classify drivers: male
or female. There are people who don’t identify
either way, though, or whose identification
changes from moment to moment.
I’m one of those. W hen I was younger, I
could block my ambivalence. It was easy to
check “male,” because I believed I should. Also,
the culture seemed to tell me that being male
was “better than” being female, so it felt like
claiming a prize I’d won at birth. In the last
few years, though, checking those boxes has
felt more and more fraudulent. W hy is that?
Inside, I’ve had a voice telling me I’m fe
male. It’s not always a kind voice. It tends to
call me things like “mean girl,” “tranny” and
“nympho,” depending on the situation. And
anytime I call myself a man, it’s quick to re
mind me that the label doesn’t apply. W here
does that voice come from?
It seems so basic: my gender, my identity,
my sexuality. I assume it must be “me” who’s
talking. I f I'm telling myself I'm not a man, then
I'm not one, my thinking goes. W hat about the
negativity, though? W hy am I so hard on my
self? Perhaps it’s status again.
If being male was better than being female,
from half a life to whole
BY LEELA GINELLE
then what could be worse—or weirder— than
going from male to female, or male to some
No Man’s Land in between? Perhaps that last
part doesn’t ring true. Being in the No Man’s
Land has seemed “better” than living full-time
as female the last few weeks.
I’ve always liked androgyny. The people I
find most fascinating are the ones who seem to
blend genders so seamlessly I can’t determine
their biological sex for sure. As I begin to ex
press androgyny more in my presentation, I
like my body and myself more. Even at this
time, though, I’m bedeviled by that voice.
Where does it come from? Is it my soul or
spirit? If it is, why is it so negative? Maybe it’s
repression. I’ve locked my gender away so long
that when it speaks to me, perhaps I hear only
hostility. “There’s no place for you in the world,”
the voice tells me. “Hide and be miserable.”
As I hide less, though, the world seems more
alien. I look at men, and I don’t want to be one.
They seem crude, boorish and fashionless. I
look at women, and know I’m not one, but
their trappings— the hair, the makeup, the
clothes—seem alluring and taboo. And where
am I?
In between. I wear makeup and women’s
switch will flip and I’ll identify with the male,
and fear all the signs of the female that are
showing. How do I integrate?
A part of me thinks the answer is to con
sciously forget those words. Can one do that,
though? “Consciously forget ”? If each day I’m
constructing an androgynous presentation us
ing male and female signifiers, how do I forget
the words “male” and “female"?
And what about my male hatred? Clearly
that can’t be healthy, nor can my fear/envy of
women. Is this just a phase that will clear up
soon? I hope so.
So why am I writing to you, DMV? It’s be
cause you reinforce our culture’s binary gender
system. Should I want to legally change my
gender on my license, my “proof of identity,”
I’ll need to see a psychiatrist, convince him or
her I’m “really” female, get a signed note and
bring it to you.
And what if I just want the damned gender
designation removed? I don’t think there’s any
one I can see about that. Male or female? Nei
ther. Will you please give me the option?
clothes regularly now, and I do so in fear o f the
reaction I might draw. To me they still seem
forbidden. I’d like to think I’m not trying to be
“female,” but I know which section I bought
the clothes in, and I know which gender goes
to makeup stores.
Part of me still identifies as male, as well. /
may look a little weird, I think, hut I'm not wear
ing a dress. No one's going to kick my ass. My man
hood still feels like a VIP pass at those times,
and part o f me hates it. Get out o f my way, I
think. Let mefigure this out without your words!
W ho do I want out o f my way? In those
moments, it feels like everyone. As I write now,
though, it’s hard to know. Maybe the female
part o f me wants the male part gone. The idea
of living full-time as a woman still feels exotic
and enchanting, as though I could erase every
thing that’s come before and live some fashion
magazine life. Likewise, the male part probably
wants the female part gone. “If I could only be
normal,’” it’s said, at least once a day, since
Sincerely,
reaching consciousness.
Leela Ginelle JW
As I write this, I identify much more
strongly with the female side, because writing L ef . la G inelle is the author o fT \\t G ender
and fantasizing are where I’ve always connect Cycle: Three Plays. Visit zir blog at leelag-
ed with it. W hen I leave for work shortly, some inelle.com.
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