I do enjoy the benefits of cis-privilege sometimes, but I actually don't want to pay the price of passing for heterosexuals or women.
I recently went to Puerto Rico on vacation with my partner, who was designated as a male at birth (AMAB). I am non-binary, but absolutely feminine, so to anyone stubbornly in the cis-heterarchy matrix, we look like your ordinary white male/female couples. Generally speaking, this kind of "traversal" makes daily life much less stressful. When people saw me holding hands with an AMAB (probably straight, because this is the norm in our society), I immediately got all the benefits of Het Coupleom-men wouldn’t beat me, and women wouldn’t think I was Hit them-the most important thing is that no one gazes with a standard of engrossed curiosity trying to parse our genitals or sexual preferences. It's amazing.
The problem starts when I have to start explaining my pronouns, or worse, when people think that my partner is in charge of me or is somehow authorized to speak on my behalf. "And for her?" It was a question that was always directed at him, and it always made me spit out a little bit in my mouth. The weird and unshakable structure of men in charge of women in cis couples is bad enough, but queer and gender inconsistencies add more complexity. In an instant, I went from feeling comfortable not being noticed to being simultaneously invisible and abnormal at the same time.
It’s like, yes, of course, I do enjoy some of the benefits of cis-privilege — like letting strangers gurgle what a lovely couple we are, instead of being bullied in the bathroom — but I actually don’t want to pay the price to pass Straight or feminine. When I was forced to insist on the validity and reality of my existence, it made me feel a heavy responsibility. And since the defenders of patriarchy almost never like to face their waning hegemony, it is also a very quick atmosphere killer in most cases.
On a beautiful day in paradise, we hired a guide to take us snorkeling in the coral reef. On the way to see the diving guide, my head was full of neon fish and turtles. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," said the tour guide in blue swimming trunks as we greeted us. I cringed. "Oh, I know that gender is complicated now," the man said, pointing at me, "but I believe a lady is a lady." "We disagree," my partner said, squeezing my hand. I have begun to alienate.
Within three hours, the man in the blue pants dared not look directly at me. "Kishon," he would look at my partner and say, "what size does she wear?" "They," I said. "Kishon, can you grab her fins?" He insisted. "They," I said flatly. The hangover Australians on the hike somehow made everything look worse, even though they were really talking about handmade rum. They are girls who look and behave like girls. When I put down my sunglasses and my mouth is in a straight line, they smile and nod. Deep down, I was terrified, but I felt that if I put my feelings aside and shut my mouth, at least I wouldn't open the scene and make everything worse.
The dive that was originally promised to be a magical undersea adventure was tainted by tension. Don't get me wrong, seeing baby turtles is really amazing, but the drama of interpersonal relationships casts a shadow over everything. The guide said that he was frustrated with the clouds in the sky and what he seemed to think that my boos and me seemed irreducible. We rubbed against each other in the vicinity of the truck and in the vast Caribbean Sea. The man is getting more and more excited.
He continued to talk about "the situation in Puerto Rico" at length. The Spanish are not actually the cruelest colonists in Puerto Rico. According to blue shorts, they are Mayans. If people stop accusing the United States and get rid of welfare, the island will undoubtedly prosper. I find it hard not to be shocked by his narrow conservative views. However, it makes sense to me that someone so attached to gender dualism is also a colonial defender.
The sea and its inhabitants are breathtaking, but I think anyone diving, except perhaps the noisy Australians, can fully enjoy their aquatic splendor. Our view of reality cannot be reconciled, and this disharmony really makes us all uneasy. The tour guide couldn't understand that I might not be the girl he thought I should be, and I couldn't stand his resistance to the reality of our gender fluidity or the disgusting combination of complaints from his neurotic conservative men.
Eventually, he stopped laughing at me and I gave him an encouraging smile, but it was too late and we all felt a little sad and confused. Trying to deny the truth of reality is that it has always existed, and ignoring it requires a lot of energy. I am not a girl. My partner is not my "boyfriend". Even if we lose our privileges, we will not be invisible. We are weird, we are here, we have given everyone enough time to adapt to it.