It cracks me up when TIMs--because they are self-centered males with virtually no theory of mind--genuinely think that I'll be devastated if they start calling me a man.
I have not owned a razor in three years. The only makeup I have ever owned in my life was a dollar store eyeshadow palette that my grandmother gave me for Christmas when I was 12 that I never touched. The last time I wore a skirt or dress was around that time as well. I have never set foot in a nail salon in my life. I don't own a single underwire or push-up bra. I keep my hair short and cut it at home. I wear men's boxer briefs because I like that the front pouch has room for my bush. I currently have a torn bicep from lifting too heavy.
And yet, Lilith thinks I'll be crushed if he pretends that he thinks I'm a man. As if, like him, my deepest desire is to be a sparkly little princess, and my current grooming habits are not deliberate but instead just evidence of my horrible lazy slobbishness, and that him "misgendering" me is somehow going to lay bare for me all the unforgivable ways in which I've failed to meet the requirements of "femininity." As if I'm "unworthy" of being a woman because I don't purchase the right products, so therefore he feels entitled to strip the title from me.
But there are a few things TIMs will never seem to understand. First, since I was around 4, I've been aware that simply saying you are something doesn't make it so. If that were true, I would have become a mermaid ages ago and y'all would never have heard of me because I'd be chilling under the sea. So someone calling me a male, or a groundhog, or Scooby Doo, has literally no effect on me. It's like when someone spells my name wrong.
Second, I AM INCAPABLE OF FEELING INSECURE ABOUT MY WOMANHOOD. His is a costume, so just like any cosplayer, he feels insecure and less-than when the many, many flaws in his homemade cosplay are called out. Mine has been the reality of my existence from before I was born. It's impossible for me to feel like "less" of a woman -- to me, it's like saying I feel like "less" of an air-breather, or "less" of a mammal. It's baked into the fabric of my reality, my every moment of conscious awareness. He correctly observes that I eschew the male-created and male-enforced construct of "femininity," but that has nothing to do with my womanhood. Short, tall, flat, curvy, fat, skinny, pretty, ugly, young, old -- none of these criteria have any influence of my sex. Interestingly, the only people to ever "misgender" me have been bitter TIMs trying and failing to piss me off.
Last, my refusal to participate in sexist gender norms does not mean I hate myself or my sex. My actions relative to my body and caring for it are all deliberate. Males really think in romcom stereotypes lmao, I have not "given up on myself" because I'll never be a pretty princess. I am a Woman and, despite what males have tried to make me feel about that, I'm fiercely proud of it.
