The Accidental Columnist: Not a girl, not not a man

I am very comfortable with my gender. I’m a man. I guess. I mean – no, I am. Maybe I’m a guy more than I’m a man, but I am definitely a man.

Perhaps it’s a bit more complicated than that. I’d say I’m a man but I’d also say I’m a ‘somewhat girl’ (thank you, Britney). Not in the sense that I want to be a girl and not in the sense that I feel dysphoric about being a man. But, in the sense that I think there is woman-ness about me.

There’s a video produced by Pride in London in which a masculine-presenting character puts on lipstick and smiles to himself. His sister comes into the room and asks him what he’s doing and he hides his face in shame. Later in the video, his sister goes on to help him apply the lipstick. Something about that moment when he smiles into the mirror and just as quickly tries to wipe the lipstick off in shame that really connects with me.

When I was younger, I used to sneak into my mam’s bedroom and play with her nail polish. I knew that boys ‘weren’t allowed’ to wear nail polish so, to be safe, I would take the polish out and paint strokes on pieces of paper. I’d admire it before quickly ripping the paper up into tiny pieces so that no one knew.

When I had the house to myself, I’d walk around in mam’s heels and marvel at her make-up. I’d put some of it on, look at myself in the mirror, and then wash it off as soon as I could.

There’s just something so glamorous about nail polish and heels and make-up. My fascination with them – and with femininity – is in my bones. It’s innate.

But I know I’m not a woman. I don’t identify with being a woman. I have no desire to be perceived as a woman. I actually quite like being perceived as a man.

I like my few tiny chest hairs. I like my masculine jaw. I like how my body grows. I even liked when my voice dropped (ever so slightly) during puberty.

There are things about being a man that I don’t connect with, though. Aggression, physicality, and being unemotive. ‘Lads, lads, lads.’ Being ‘one of the boys’. That’s never been me. I’ve always been ‘one of the girls’.

You might ask, isn’t that just being feminine? But I don't think femininity on its own captures my experience. Does femininity explain how I imagine wrapping my hair up after every shower, despite only wanting and having short hair? Does femininity alone account for how I hear “women in STEM” and think that’s about me? Does femininity alone explain why I’ll always pick women characters in video games? Does femininity alone explain how werewolf fingers at Halloween were really acrylics in my mind?

I don’t think it does. Maybe it does for other people, for other men, but it doesn’t for me. It’s something more than that. I don’t like all of those things in the same way I like chocolate or music, for example. It’s fulfilling a need; like I’m following a satnav and everything is blinking red unless I follow the ‘girl path’.

So, yeah. I’m a man. But I’d also say I’m a ‘somewhat girl’, too. Life has always felt right that way.

If you or someone you know is exploring their gender identity, our free masterclass on coming out might be able to help you on that journey.