I’m a guy (mostly). A trans guy, but I am still a guy. However, I am far from your typical guy (both trans* and cis). I have more high heels than most of my female friends. I still shop in the women’s clothing section, including underwear. My arms are covered in a plethora of bracelets of all colors, shapes, and sizes. At this current moment, my toenails are painted sparkly purple (something I did with my girlfriend). I love rainbows, unicorns, glitter, bright colors, flashy clothes, etc. I often joke that my gender is peacock, because that is how I feel most of the time. A male peacock is the perfect descriptor for me. I’m flashy, loud, outspoken, opinionated, brightly colored, and love being the center of attention. While my gender occasionally does fluctuate, it always has the basis of male. I’ve always seen my body and identity as having a male base to build off of, despite being Female Assigned At Birth – or FAAB, which is a perfect acronym for me.

This confuses many people. If I liked feminine things so much, why not stay female? Simply put, I’m not a female. As mentioned above, I see and live my life as male because of who I am. You don’t generally ask feminine men why they don’t become women if they like feminine things so much. Well, I am sure people ask this of non-female identified Male Assigned At Birth (MAAB) people (drag queens, cross-dressers, etc). However, they are rarely questioned about the validity of their male identity because, for the most part, of the clothing they wear. Nor do people try and coerce them to be something they are not for simplicities sake. I’ve had both trans* and cis people tell me I am not truly who I am because of my feminine persuasions. I’ve been told I am not transitioning properly, I’m not trans* enough, nor am I really a trans guy, or I am simply doing this for attention.

My identity is what it is. I know that my male identity does not hinge on me being a stereotypical masculine person. I do not have to like cars, sports, physical activity, or other stereotypical male things in order to be male. I do not have to dress in male clothing to be male either. The way I express myself in the world is an entirely different matter than how I identify. My clothing is merely an extension of myself and since I see myself as a colorful and flamboyant person, that is how I dress and express myself. People apply gender to everything, even if the thing does not naturally have a gender applied to it. Activities, for example, are just that, activities. They are things people of all genders do for fun, but society has decided to gender these experiences. Same goes for clothing. High heels used to be a thing a man of class and high society wore. Pink used to be considered the more masculine color and was used for boys while blue was considered more feminine and used for girls.

These applications are also applied to the human body. My vagina is not a female vagina. My vagina is a male one. Vaginas are not inherently female, just like penises are not inherently male. People make these assumptions about genitals the moment we are born, assigning meaning to things based on their own ideas. Some people may even have both, and we call them intersex, and make ‘educated’ guesses about what they may be before we mutilate them as infants. We try to assert destiny and identity on beings that cannot even speak yet.

My chest is a male chest, despite having a pair of what most would be assume to be breasts. They are moobs to me, no different than those on a heavier set man. Everything about me is male because I am male. This is a big deal. I am not denying that I was female assigned at birth; however, my body is my own and I can call it as I want. I am not lying or denying anything. My body is male because I am male.

Sex and gender are different things. However, sex can be just as fluid and malleable as gender can be. Intersex people exist, in much larger numbers than people seem to think. Sex is a combination of factors, and not just one single thing. Sex is not just genitals, hormones, chromosomes, gonads/ovaries, etc. Sex is a combination of all of these factors. One’s sex also does not affect one’s gender in any way either. Only one of these matter with people, what they tell you, which is generally their gender.

I don’t know what my chromosomes are. However, given my genitals, most would assume XX. Female chromosomes. They would be wrong. My chromosomes are male. Once again, it is others who apply these ideas onto arbitrary things. Humans are the ones who decided what sex was and how it appeared in people. We are the ones who chose what is labeled as what. Others were the ones who decided that a certain set of bodily landmarks and events were female, male, or a mix.

People tend to override someone’s gender via their assumed sex. I say assumed because they are attributing genitals or assigned at birth to what someone truly is. They are making the grandiose assumption that a vagina is female and a penis is male. They are assuming that these things are solid, immutable truths that cannot be changed which is the lie of the century. We are who we assign ourselves to be, not who someone else who has only met our screaming mewling self assigns us. We are not who society deems us to be based on arbitrary organs. Our identities are our own to claim. Our bodies are our own to assign.

Thus, I view my body and expression as such. It might be feminine, but it is male because there is a male doing it. My body may be FAAB, however it is a male body since it is mine. My clothing may be feminine, but they are a man’s clothing since they are mine. Those neon pink and blue rhinestone heels? Totally a man’s pair of shoes because they belong to me. Arbitrarily gendered things can be gender swapped at will to match those they are paired with since they do not care. Only society cares. My gender and my expression, while they might go hand-in-hand on and in my person, they are not connected in the slightest. I am no less trans*, a man, or anything else for being a peacock.