But it seems to me that an air of rejoinder is perhaps a necessary component of identifying as a woman of color, as a cis-woman, or as trans* person (or any other marginalized identity). I’m not sure what it means necessarily to have always been a person of color, to have always been a woman, to have always been trans* in a metaphysical sense because these are non-essentialist identities that don’t make sense in isolation, absent and prior to the process of socialization.
Identification happens later. For people who grew up as kids of color or as girls, or as trans kids, it’s A Big Deal to say “yes” because your mind had been whispering “no” your whole life. Identification can be joyful, yes, but it’s a corrective that’s only possible or necessary because the implicit conviction that you are not good or worthwhile or even real lingers bone deep. Even in the best of times, it’s scar tissue that springs up around the wound of self-hatred. That’s why it can sound defensive, self-protective.
Always, when I consider myself, I’m filled with at least a low watermark of disgust. But without that, I can’t imagine what identification would even mean, what substance it could hold.