CHENNAI: Growing up as an athlete, my gender was not something I thought about. On the ground, I was a sportsperson. The more I stayed on the field, the closer I felt to being my version of an ideal masculine figure. But there were times when I had to take up feminine roles. It was confusing. While now, I may be comfortable with my sexual identity, it was a long road of patience, learning, and getting hurt.
My desire to question identity stemmed from actions that were seemingly mundane to me but inexplicable to society. For example, I have always liked peeing, standing up like a boy, and I would sit, walk and talk in a way that a woman isn’t “supposed” to.
Initially, I thought I was a trans person. I was homo androgynous, meaning I had a higher testosterone production than the average female. I thought, “Am I a man stuck in a woman’s body?” While my parents did not find me “abnormal”, my immediate family began consulting endocrinologists and gynaecologists, hoping for doctors who could bring back my “femininity”.
Being labelled as a woman by society confused me. The question of my gender burned inside me. Why do I not feel like I’m supposed to feel? As an adolescent, these thoughts plagued me and I was suicidal. I couldn’t relate to people around me and was isolated during my school days. “Too hyper,” they said. I was a goofy kid, jumping around and playing rough. I understood that something was “wrong” with me.
Questioning identity
With a growing teenage body and society’s constraints, my body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria grew. I wanted to understand myself. Books like Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda and Leah on the Offbeat taught me to accept myself and get past internalised homophobia. When I was alone with my thoughts, it seemed like there was no end to the confusion about my gender and sexuality. But when I found the Internet, where I could express myself and see others do the same, it gave me an outlet to figure out how I feel about my body. After two long years, I started becoming at ease with the person I was, and I began to identify as non-binary.
As a teenager, I was more comfortable around women. From jumping up and getting things for girls under the guise of helping them, to physically being more comfortable with them, I thought that my interactions were simply because I was an extremely friendly person. Little did I know that I was in love with a few of them.
When I was finally ready to come out to myself and the closest people around me, a bad experience proved to be a heavy setback. I told one of my closest friends I thought that I might be lesbian, only for that friend to tell me that my attraction was a cry for attention and nothing more. My feelings had been reduced to a trend. That interaction affected me so badly that I remained in the closet for the next two years. While I am out of the closet right now, it was a battle with society and my mind.
I initially didn’t tell my mother that I was attracted to women. Instead, I told her about my sexual identity: “Amma, sometimes I feel like a man, and sometimes I feel like a woman.” But she didn’t quite understand. Her thought process was, “She wants to dress up like a boy; let her do so. So what?”. To her, gender is still a heteronormative concept. Despite her lack of understanding, her respect for me as a person and as her child was more important.
One for the community
My parents are accepting enough to let me live with my partner under their roof, but it pains me to think of people in the community who are forced to hide. My privilege forces me to be there for the community. When I come out of my bubble, the reality keeps me in check. It grounds me and doesn’t let me take my privilege for granted.
When people ask me, “Should I come out as queer?” I have maintained this line of thought: “While I support your decision, please keep in mind your surroundings and the people around you before you make a decision. You can be proud of your feelings, but you needn’t necessarily come out. While it is imperative to come out to yourself, understand, and love yourself, please ensure you are safe before coming out to others. Your safety as a person is of utmost importance.” Now, I provide verbal counselling for queer people. I am a vocal activist who speaks at events and colleges because I know when younger queer kids look at me, they will know someone is there for them.