Insidious gender roles

   It should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I am a living defiance of gender roles.  I’m not saying that to try to sound like I’m something special or that this is any great accomplishment; the world is increasingly open to women and men blurring the traditional lines that separated the genders.  Nor was this defiance something I sought out.  I simply am and have always been more on the stereotypically-masculine side of my culture’s personality spectrum.  It’s not a big deal, I’m not proud or ashamed of it, and I don’t generally feel a need to point it out.

   However, I have not always been so confident with this.  I was raised in a sphere of Complimentarian beliefs, taught that men and women are created with a different “essence” and that the greatest fulfillment that a person can reach will be one within their gender roles.  My own parents were not as strict with these teachings as some, but the culture was still absorbed by osmosis, even in areas where it was not forced by my family.  I’ve recently had occasion to revisit some of my childhood experiences in the hyper-conservative Christian culture, and I’ve started to remember that there are many people who still believe that men and women are created to be different.  Separate but equal.  I am therefore putting myself forward in order to point out, not only how ridiculous this notion is, but also how harmful it is.

   For hundreds of years, Western culture viewed women as inherently suited for child-rearing and homemaking, and men were viewed as inherently suited for work, war, and intellectual pursuits.  These were the roles that had been established for many years and there were few that challenged them, so they must have seemed perfectly natural.  In addition, the average physiological differences between men and women seemed to artificially support the idea that men and women were designed for separate tasks.  Add to that a healthy dose of religious patriarchy, and the roles were settled for generations with only an occasional upset.

   But in modern day, we have been forced to face realities that our forefathers (and foremothers) could not have dreamed of: we have seen that women can thrive in male roles and men can thrive in female roles.  We’ve seen over and over that individual capability trumps the supposed in-born proclivities of our sex.  In fact, scientists have been fascinated enough by this phenomenon that they have spent a considerable time studying it.  A recent study confirms that, while certain biological traits are clearly influenced by gender, most personality traits that we identify as “masculine” and “feminine” are completely arbitrary, and very poor predictors of a person’s actual gender.  There are average variations between men and women, but they seem likely to be socially influenced rather than biological.  This comes as no surprise to those of us who live our lives in defiance of tradition every day.  It is so mundane a discovery that I feel it hardly merits notice.

   Yet, for all of the evidence around us, some people are determined to persist in the idea that men and women are utterly separate beings in both mind, body, and soul.  So much are they threatened by the possibility that gender roles are arbitrary, that they blame the ills of society on the change.  “Back in their day” families stayed together because there was none of this nonsense about a woman having a job or leading an independent life.  There were none of these “sissy men” wearing nail polish and earrings.  Everyone knew their place and they stuck to it.  It was not an oppressive system, they would say.  Indeed, it was true freedom, for there is no greater freedom than knowing the role you are meant for and devoting yourself to fulfilling it.

   Now I want to make it clear that there is NOTHING wrong with fulfilling a traditional gender role.  If a woman wants to be a stay-at-home mom and a man wants to be a breadwinner, I will not judge them… so long as that decision was made by them, and not by their culture.  I’ve seen many young lives boxed up and stored on separate shelves, labeled “man” and “woman” and, to me, that is a tragedy.  I’ve seen young women quietly discouraged from going to college, or held back a grade in high school so that their younger brother can attend school with them to protect them from society’s influences.  I’ve seen women who never left home because their family expected them to stay under their father’s authority until marriage.  I’ve seen young men ostracized by their friends because of a soft voice and a penchant for wearing jewelry.  I’ve seen women taught to fear their bodies and men taught to fear their sexual urges.  All of this was done in the name of protecting and preparing children for their pre-designed roles… roles that were assigned from birth, before the parent even had a chance to get to know their son or daughter for who they are.

   And herein lies the insidious poison of Complimentarianism: it is disguised as stability and support, when in truth it undermines the individual and tries to replace it with a mold that might not fit.  Plenty of men and women will step forward and explain how they are happy in their roles, and how perfect it is for them.  But for every man and woman that fits that role, there will be others that do not, and still more that will spend untold years in pain, trying to force themselves into those neat boxes in order to please their family and culture.

   For my own experience, I hated being a girl.  From the age of six, I told my mother that I should have been born a boy.  I don’t think that my problem was a genuine issue of gender identity; I simply had a deep desire to be respected as strong, fierce, courageous, heroic, smart, and capable.  Even from that young age, I’d absorbed that these were male traits.  Females were to be respected for grace, compassion, gentleness, meekness, and modesty.  So great was this distinction, that I believed my own body was the reason that I didn’t fit the box, not the box itself.

   I strove with all of my might to distinguish myself as a boy.  I started by loudly proclaiming my disdain towards anything that might be seen as girly (birds, bunnies, pink, purple, flowers, bows, and more).  I was filled with shame when I found myself liking Lisa Frank merchandise (90’s folks remember her?) and I would literally only walk into that aisle of the toy store if no one else was around to see, and I would hide if someone else showed up.  I fiercely argued with my sister when she tried to explain to me that I couldn’t grow up to be a fireman, and I’d be a firewoman instead.  I didn’t want to be a firewoman.  A firewoman would be lesser.  I created alternate identities for myself, all male, and I adored the uncle that I’d never met simply because he referred to me sometimes by the nickname “Al”.  I tried very hard to get other friends to call me by that nickname, but it never stuck.

   Most importantly, my parents never worked hard to force me into this gender role.  Yes, the implications were there, but I can’t recall many times that I was told to repress my personality or to stop being a tomboy.  My parents encouraged me to pursue my interest in Physics, even if it was a stereotypically male field.  They let me play sports and act tough.  They encouraged me to be independent.  And yet, at 6 years old, I had already recognized that being a woman was less than being a man… and that belief never changed until I left home.

   I can think of a few things that my parents did to encourage the gender divide.  My mother did urge me to prepare for motherhood and care of a household, long before I had made any indications that I would ever wish to do these things.  I was thoroughly versed in modesty teachings, and taught to be ashamed and afraid of my developing body because it was an instrument of sin.  I was instructed in “purity” teachings that worked to highlight the difference between the two sexes, and set them up for a lifetime of separation together.  None of these things helped with my gender dissatisfaction.

   But, in large part, it was the culture of Complimentarianism in the Fundamentalist world that taught me to be unhappy with myself as a young woman.  It wasn’t forced and it wasn’t beaten into me; it was so much more insidious than that.  Just because my compliance with gender roles wasn’t outright demanded doesn’t mean that the pressure wasn’t very real.  And very confusing and damaging to a developing young mind that just didn’t fit.

   So when supporters of Complimentarianism try to tell me “I would never force my kids to fit those roles; it would just be strongly encouraged as the best way to achieve happiness,” I have to shake my head.  They clearly have never felt the cognitive dissonance of existing in a world that strongly encourages them to be something they’re not.  That strong encouragement can warp a child’s expectations of themselves, alter their dreams, drive them to self-loathing, or provoke an outright rebellion and fracture of the family.  Why would anyone risk all of that in the name of an outdated presumption of what men and women can or cannot do?  Is a child’s body parts truly more important than their individual identity?

   All one must do is look around at the huge spectrum of people around them to see that gender roles are not the rigid walls that we once thought they were.  Women have progressed to succeed in science, politics, business, the military, and manual labor.  Men have succeeded as single parents, nurses, secretaries, and teachers.  More and more, we are learning to cross those gender lines and see just how flexible the human mind can be.  Gender roles should not and cannot replace the individual.

   At the end of my story, I can happily say that I am mostly at peace with my gender.  Leaving the culture of patriarchy, coming to terms with my sexuality, and having the freedom to discover myself without limits has actually brought me to a place of comfort with my body that Complimentariansim never could.  I am not a gender archetype… and that’s nothing special.  I’m not proud; I’m not ashamed.  But I am lucky that I escaped the poison of gender roles that Fundamentalists are regularly spoon-feeding their children.  That’s why I’m finally speaking up about who I am and who I am not.