I’m Gender-Nonconforming. Do I Now Have a Place in WOC Spaces?
Feminism often doesn’t make room for those like me
On a stormy evening in Cape Town, four of my closest friends from university gathered at my house for dinner and tea. We sat in a circle on my bedroom floor, inhaling clouds of sandalwood from the incense stick that burned. They began to discuss divine femininity, women being more spiritually tapped in, and something about wombs. I couldn’t hear the details over my racing heart. Instantly, I felt my stomach turn. I didn’t want to create any tension or sever the connection they perceived us having by vocalizing my distress. Conversations like these always made me feel like an outcast. Though they felt like family, being a “sister” to them felt like a game of pretend.
The words eventually gushed out of my mouth like a rapid stream: “I’m not a man or woman…”’ Breathless, I raised my head to notice pensive faces with wide eyes across the room. They all nodded and chanted words of apology, agreement and affirmation, but the tension in the room was thicker than the incense smoke. Over the next 45 minutes, everyone searched for the closest vent outward.
Events like this became regular occurrences, sometimes short and turbulent exchanges with apologetic feminists in panic over pronouns. The tragedy and glory lies…
