After I complained about a long afternoon in heels, I was told in a round-about-get-over-it way, that, "dear, welcome to womanhood, you're going to have to get used to it". I shot back a quick look of displeasure with the comment that made her retract it quickly. Though it was said with nothing but good intent, there's something unfair and off base with the comment that is probably more to blame by biases inherent to society than anything else.
The underlying problem is, when have I earned the right to complain? Have I not heard countless cis-females complain of prolonged time in heels, or carry an extra-pair of flats in their bag to change into later? Must only genetic-born females have the right to complain? The fact is that I enjoy wearing heels. They are empowering in their own way, despite the oppressive history of heels in the first place. I know I feel more inclined to throw a punch and kick butt and take names in a strong pair of heels than I ever did in any article of men's clothing. If that's not empowering, I don't know what is. And to top it off, I look damn good in them.
How many years must I present as female to earn the right to complain? Have I needed to wear heels in earnest for a number of years before I obtain that right? A larger problem is that: at which point do you begin considering my femaleness? Was it when I came out? When I first cross-dressed? When I began hormones? Or, have I been female all along? Because, honey, I've been wearing heels since before your were born. That may be an exaggeration, but I would wager that it is likely that I, being a little older than she is, most likely tried on my mother's heels before she ever tried on a pair.
I would go so far as to say that this is pretty common for all boys, because as children our gender compass is set close to neutral. We are simply not aware of the impressive force of society's binary system on our bodies, and there are no gender lines as kids that we cannot cross, despite our being bombarded with pinks and blues from the day we were born. It is only through years of conditioning and reinforcement do we submit for fear of ridicule, exclusion, or punishment. As we get older the stakes get higher the longer we decide not to submit to the gender binary, and slowly we are broken down into societal groups of men and women, with a men vs. women (or, mars vs. venus) attitude. Boys, as children, can be just as inclined to play house and with dolls, experiment with their mother's closet or make up, as they are inclined to play with a baseball bat and glove or shaving their face with their father's razor. It doesn't mean that all of those boys who participated in those activities as children are cross-dressers, transgendered, or gay in any way, it is just a natural form of human expression.
But after a long day hiking through an urban jungle that can be difficult for any cisgirl, transgirl, or man alike to navigate, can I not sit down, have a drink with a friend and complain with my sisters while I kick my feet up? Can I not say at the end of the day, that I would like to retire early, kick off my shoes, read a book, and take a bath?
Like countless others, I'm just looking for some commiseration from the human condition.
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