The male gaze can jump in a lake
While driving to work this morning, someone pulled up along side me at a stoplight and motioned for me to roll down my window. He was gesturing to the back of my car and saying something, and I worried that I had a light out, my trunk was open, or (worst of all) I hadn’t noticed a flat tire.
I rolled down my window and he started talking across the gap between our cars. I couldn’t really hear him over the rain, complicated by his soft voice and foreign accent. I finally understood that he was complimenting me on my bumper stickers. This happens every so often, and I always get a kick out of it. I have a couple dozen bumper stickers on the back of my car, ranging from the political – about Obama or women’s rights – to the silly (“No, I will not fix your computer”). I thanked him, and started to roll my window back up, when he yelled something I heard very clearly:
“Wanna meet up some place?
I rolled up my window, turned back to the light (green, by this time), and sped away.
This absolutely ruined my good mood, and I’m still pretty cranky. After talking with a friend, I think I’ve teased out why.
First is the obvious reason: he was making assumptions on my sexual promiscuity (and interest in his sorry ass) based on my self-expression. This is a little different than assuming someone in a short skirt is a slut, but I think it’s in the same ballpark. (Though I can’t imagine “bumper sticker shaming” catching on as a term.)
I also don’t like how his behavior made me question myself. I’d love to be able to write him off and go along my merry way, but my initial reaction (after “EW!”) was, “Well, maybe it was foolish of me to have all these bumper stickers proclaiming my political views and strongly implying things about my sexuality. Maybe I was asking for it.”
Except I know that’s bullshit.
I’m also really frustrated because I try – mostly with success – to focus on the positive things about transitioning and being a woman. Sure, I miss my upper body strength, but I love my boobs, my smooth legs, my self-expression, my hair. I really enjoy being a woman. But I’ve been pretty insulated from the “bad” things about being a woman. First, I was insulated by not presenting as female. I was still bombarded with the media depictions of womanhood (not to mention trans women) which did take its toll. But I was never socially trained about the negative ramifications of presenting and being perceived as female. First and foremost, that there’s a segment of the population who will assume that any display of sex or sexuality will make them assume you’re ‘open for business.’ And this guy definitely reminded me of that.
And maybe I do need to grow a thicker skin. I just can’t help but miss my childlike innocence about the wonder of the world, and of womanhood.
Themocracy
I hate to say that you better get used to it. But to be honest, in our society, it’s not necessarily about growing a thicker skin, it’s just about (sadly) coming to accept that the more you are percieved as a woman (and a queer one at that), the more you’ll get obnoxious things like that happening to you. I mean, happens to me on a daily basis, pretty much, anything from a boob graze to asking me out on a date, to catcalls. You just learn to get used to it….although the insult of being a sex object never fades.
I know – I need to not let it get to me so much, for my own sanity. Still sucks, though! =p
But on the flip side, if you don’t let it get to you, it almost feels like you’re letting them win. I always let it bother me, otherwise I feel too passive.
I guess I need to find that balance. To not let the frustration or hurt be debilitating, but also to not forget that it’s a totally unreasonable thing to “have to” put up with.
You and me both, girl.
God, I feel for you, I hate that shit. I hope it doesn’t get you down, and I hope the guys who do it either get hit by oncoming trucks or work out how to be reasonable people who don’t assume female appearing people owe them time/attention, it not even the sex bit, it is the getting you to pull over because you clearly don’t have anywhere to urgently be. I wrote about the other side of this gig for trans people a little while ago.
http://genderqueer2genderqueer.wordpress.com/2010/03/18/on-male-privilege/
Your post is succinct and clear: being left the fuck alone is certainly a privilege. Thanks for the comment.
Your welcome, have I introduced myself before? If not hi, I am bad at the internet thing, but I have been reading you for a couple of weeks.
Yeah it is a privilege, but it is also something that it is a real pity that everyone doesn’t get. I just want to make doubly clear that I don’t think that my sister and other femmes should cop it, but rather that selfishly I am looking forward to having one less thing to deal with, as a price of existing.
Hia! Nice to have you around
It sucks, babe, it sucks so hard. Tonight I was at a bar in Brooklyn for queer ladies night and some dude hit on me at the bar by whispering in my ear and saying “do you have any wishes i can make come true?” and when i rebuffed him, he leaned in again and said just hold his hand for three seconds to start. It was disgusting. And sadly, crap like this happens to me pretty often since moving to the city. It’s gross, it’s scary, there are varying degrees of it. Unfortunately in our patriarchal and misogynistic society, it’s something we have to deal with. Yesterday a guy in the park told me he loved me and asked if he could be my boyfriend. It never stops. It’s everywhere and it sucks, and I wish I had some good advice to give you. But I don’t. The best strategy is usually to ignore the guy, and if he makes you uncomfortable, leave. And that’s what you did.
I wish I could tell you it gets easier to deal with. Sometimes it can be flattering, when a guy is just sweet and flirty. But usually it’s just hideous. Surround yourself with queers and feminists. And keep celebrating the beautiful parts of womanhood.
This is the suck. I almost always find guys hitting on me quite unpleasant, because not only is it unsolicited and unwanted, there’s the risk of unpleasantness and even violence if they realise I’m queer (I have a girlfriend is *not* a useful brush-off) and trans. But yeah, there’s nothing you can really do to prevent it (even a wedding ring doesn’t work) so sadly it’s something you just have to get used to.