PART 1: CHILDHOOD
Warning: mention of suicide ideation
I don't know how to articulate my views on gender, autism, womanhood etc without going through my entire experience of growing up without any diagnosis or support, so I guess that's what I will do. I apologise for how long my post is, but this is the first time that I am trying to link all the different strands of my life together to show that 'being trans' doesn't have to be the only option. You can make it through to the other side of a rough journey in figuring out who you are and your place in this world without needing to invoke gender identity ideology.
I'll start off by saying that I've always struggled to feel solidarity or a sense of companionship with other women. From reading and listening to other women, there's a sense of some overarching sisterhood that many intuitively feel and cherish, and yet it's not something I've felt in my interactions with women in general. I don't tend to seek out the company of women, I don't usually feel comfortable in the company of women and I might even go out of my way to avoid the company of women at times.
I come from a very gendered culture. As a child, I always resented the expectation by adults around me that I should automatically sit and interact with other women and girls, simply because I was one too. I couldn't understand why I wasn't allowed to pick where I wanted to sit based on which conversations or people interested me more.
When in social gatherings, the men and boys gravitated to one area of the house - usually in the living room or outside. I had to follow my mother to hang out with the other women in the group - usually in the kitchen while they cooked and prepared meals for the party. Even if I found the conversation in the men's group more interesting and funny (they talked about science, politics or made rude jokes - all of which I enjoyed), I was expected to go play with the other girls or sit with my mum and listen to the women's conversations. The girls all wanted to play with dolls or have some sort of social play like imaginary tea parties, while I was content to sit by myself and colour or read about dinosaurs and other animals. I tired of their company very quickly and they most likely tired of mine. Sitting among the women, I had to listen to them talk about cooking, TV shows, their children, their feelings, their awful husbands and in-laws - I couldn't care about any of this at that age.
As I've gotten older, (and I've lived in three different countries and cultures) whenever I find myself in mixed sex social groups, I notice the men and women still tend to gravitate into separate conversations, especially if there are several pairs of couples. I suppose that's understandable, but I still feel a twinge of annoyance that I'm also expected to conform to this unspoken norm, but I guess that's my childhood feelings bubbling to the surface.
I feel the anxious dread as the men and women separate into groups and I try to smile and perform a role in making small talk, while drinking alcohol quickly to ease the stress. I've gotten better over the years but still struggle to find a way to bond with other women over polite chit chat. Once I run out of questions to ask according to the 'scripts' I have in my head, I'm at a loss. I get a strong sense I'm expected to participate in certain topics or reciprocate in certain ways to what they say, but I don't know what those things are or I don't feel a desire to do so.
It is easier to deal with larger groups as I eventually slide across to the men's side because there's enough women to keep the conversation going and I can disengage from the small talk.
For reasons which I now understand is due to being autistic, I prefer to listen rather than talk (although listening is also quite hard in noisy environments), and I find this easier to do when among men because they ignore me and carry on talking with one another, and I can watch and listen as an outsider (and zone out when I need to). They probably think I am shy, weird or stupid, but will indulge me with their stories and jokes and aren't terribly interested in what I have to say, which works very well in this context. I can give the appearance of socialising without actually doing anything.
Come to think of it, I don't feel solidarity with any kind of group. I don't seek out the company of people based on my ethnic and cultural background since I tend to like someone's company based on other criteria. I'm also a mix of ethnic groups so I've always been a misfit in various ways and have gotten comfortable being an outsider no matter where I am or who I'm with.
I realise it's nice to share things in common and there's a shared understanding and solidarity if you have had similar socialisation or cultural upbringing. And I do feel it occasionally, but I wish it's something I felt often or more strongly. It would have made my life easier. I tend to live mostly in my head and need very little human interaction, although I love online exchanges as they stimulate my mind.
Anyway, I digress....
Another thing that really pissed me off as a child is when the adults, especially the women, expected me to play and look after any toddlers and infants there. I couldn't stand babies and children then and still don't. It was the assumption that because I was a girl, I had to gush over babies and be enthusiastic about interacting with them, even though I had no desire to do so, that enraged me. The boys were never asked to do these things. I was always fuming at the obvious differences in what boys and girls were allowed to do and what was expected of them.
I never came across anyone - child or adult - who openly expressed the same frustrations that I had. I would get laughs and condescending comments that I'd change my mind one day and desire children and marriage, which only served to make me more stubborn about it. I had endured listening to enough women's conversations to know marriage (and the norms dictated by society and religion) was a pretty shit deal for females. That the same women would then turn around and endorse marriage as some inevitable life goal left me dumbfounded at the stupidity of adults. How could they not make the connection?!
My mum though, for better or worse, always moaned about men and warned against getting married and that it was important to be financially independent and how women always got stuck with the shit end of any deal. I did think she was being a bit over the top at times (don't be alone with any boy or man) but her underlying message stuck with me because I could see the truth in it, and as I've gotten older I've understood better how some men can be predators and avoiding being alone with a male, especially if you feel uncomfortable for whatever reason, can be a good idea.
However, my mum did have very entrenched gendered expectations as well and made it obvious she was disappointed in me as a daughter. Never one to mince her words. I loved soft animal toys and really hated human looking dolls with their creepy faces and bulging eyes. It was a sensory thing though I didn't know it then. She would keep buying dolls for me and when I would cry with disappointment or refuse to play with them, she would berate me for not being like other girls, how every girl loves dolls, she loved playing with dolls at my age, other girls loved it when their mothers bought them dolls, and I was being silly and abnormal.
I absolutely hated frilly dresses. They were horrendously itchy and drove me mad. I much preferred jeans and T-shirts and clothing that was comfortable and practical. I also hated trying to maintain long hair. It got in my face, it always managed to get into knots that were painful to untangle, I had to comb and look after it properly. Shorter hair was so much better and so that's the style I tried to maintain. This drew further criticism from my mother because girls loved dresses and enjoyed looking pretty and feminine, not scruffy. Long hair was beautiful and when she was my age, she and her sister had such long hair down to their knees and they would comb and plait it. Again I was repeatedly told I was abnormal because I wouldn't conform and participate in the gendered activities she wanted in her 'ideal' daughter. My mother loved to compare me with her childhood or other mother-and-daughter relationships in her social circle.
I wouldn't really interact with other children or adults. Making eye contact was awful and I didn't really know what I was supposed to do when I looked into someone's eyes (still don't). I was painfully shy and anxious and always found my own company much more interesting than being around other people. So I was labelled abnormal by mum because I didn't form friendships with lots of other children and be loud and exuberant like them. I would even go mute at times and not really say anything to anyone. My behaviour singled me out in social groups, and my mum despised it because it singled her out too when she desperately wanted to fit in. Other adults routinely asked her what was wrong with me, questioned her parenting or lectured her.
Autism was unheard of back then, and any kind of mental illness or mental developmental issue carries great stigma in South Asian communities. Looking back, I suppose I did come across as 'mentally retarded' in some ways as they would have called it back then. I was super fussy about food, couldn't stand close physical contact like hugging, wouldn't express emotional attachment or affection (other than with animals or my toys), I would get tired quickly when outside or around people and end up sleeping a lot or crying with frustration and fatigue but unable to verbalise it, I rarely talked to people other than my parents, I had exceptional reading abilities and was very knowledgeable on subjects I liked but struggled greatly in school and routinely failed maths and other languages..... The list is endless.....
My mum probably dreamt of a perfect life like the romance novels she read in her youth. Instead she ended up with a philandering douchebag for a husband and a retard for a daughter.
I bore the full weight of her frustration and anger and disappointment for my entire childhood and adolescence.
Why can't you be like other children and play with them?
What kind of girl are you?
You're such an idiot / retard. You just sit there, like you're dumb. Open your mouth and speak. And look at me when I'm talking to you!
Everyone keeps asking about you. You think they don't notice how abnormal you behave?
Why can't you eat properly? Everyone asks if I'm feeding you properly. Look how skinny you are!
What an abnormal daughter I gave birth to!
Abnormal. Weird.
Not like other girls.
A disappointment.
If I was not like other girls, what was I, then?
And why did boys have it so much better and didn't have to abide by these rules and expectations? I wish I could be a boy. I'm definitely not good at being a girl.
Hot tears spreading across my pillow at night as I felt the anguish of knowing I was a disappointment to my parents. (I did wonder if my dad might have wanted a son.) The rejection of a child by her mother is something I will never be able to adequately capture into words. The searing pain seals itself deep in your memory, like a cattle branding. REJECT. It is something I will carry with me all my life.