I’m Coming Out…Again
I have an awkward grammatical announcement to make
I know this is going to be a little confusing for you grammatically.
You’re already thoroughly accustomed to using the personal pronoun “they” for a non-binary trans man like me. I get it. I know I’m just being difficult now.
I can already hear your concerns, before you’ve even thought of them.
I know.
They/them has been used as a singular personal pronoun since before the English language was intelligible to a modern, uninitiated audience. Use of it in what technically still solidly counts as English literature dates back to the year 1375 (What’s Your Pronoun, Dennis Baron, p.149).
What I’m about to request of y’all in a minute is clearly just me embracing gratuitous levels of difficulty in my pronoun requirements. It’s a bit trendy, perhaps.
I’m now unapologetically just trying to confuse the living daylights out of every last one of you poor souls. It’s unconscionable.
When I came out as non-binary at work, some of my coworkers were really struggling with my pronouns, so I provided a friendly guide for everyone.
Yes, I know I sold out by not including ze/hir, xe/xem, hy/hym, co/cos, or an advisory that some of us don’t use pronouns at all.
Since I was the first non-binary person that most of my coworkers had ever met, I was trying to introduce this concept in little bite-sized chunks. I also just selfishly wanted everyone to remember my pronouns, so I tried to keep it simple.
As it was, one sweet, adorable coworker who was just trying their very best began referring to me as “them” in every grammatical context.
“Hey, them, could you grab that paper for me?”
“How did them parents react to them saying them were non-binary?”
Shortly after, I had my first, very unexpected experience with passing as a man, despite not being on Testosterone yet.
I was helping a custodian who didn’t know me at all to lift some stuff. I asked him a question. He didn’t know the answer, so he called his supervisor. As he was talking on the phone, he referred to me as “she”. I wasn’t offended or upset with him, as there was no way he could have known my pronouns. I just felt the usual sinking feeling of invisibility.
Then something unexpected happened.
I saw from the corner of my eye that he stopped himself and began studying me. I was lifting something heavy for him, working while he talked. He apologized to me and corrected the pronoun to “he” without me saying a word or even looking directly at him. I was so happy in that moment, I nearly cried. He had seen me. I wasn’t invisible. I didn’t have to tell him who I was. He simply knew.
I’ve had a few experiences both before and after Testosterone where people referred to me as “they/them” without prompting.
This generally felt okay. I never had that little party in my head the way I still routinely do every single time that I pass as a man with “he/him” pronouns, but passing as a non-binary, fully gender-neutral person still made me feel okay. It didn’t cause a fog or floaty confusion or sinking feeling in my brain the way getting called “ma’am” always does now.
I had been content for a long time to leave “they/them” tagged at the end of my pronouns as a not-so-subtle hint that I’m non-binary. It came with the advantage of making it crystal clear on my resume that I was some variety of gender non-conforming (GNC) so that I didn’t have to waste time getting humiliated during job interviews. If someone was going to discriminate against me for being transgender, I preferred them to do that before I faced them. I had to wait a little longer to get my job interviews, but the ones that I had generally went pretty well, with only a few awkward moments.
Anyway, the other day, something happened.
I want to preface by saying this isn’t meant as a vague post call-out of a person who did me wrong. It’s just an observation of my identity that came to the surface unexpectedly because of this person’s very well-meaning attempt to fully respect my pronouns.
I had had a negative experience, and this very kind person was trying to rectify the problem by sending a long, diligent email in response to my very short complaint. This email absolutely radiated good-faith customer service fix-the-problem-immediately energy. It was addressed to a supervisor of a supervisor and summarized my complaint in many more words than I had originally used in my email.
Every single time this person referred to me, “he/they” or “him/them” was used. This substantially lengthened the email. By the time I had been referred to as “he/they” for the umpteenth time, I felt like the human embodiment of a problem. I didn’t like that feeling.
After this experience, I’ve decided on a solution.
I’m going to be even more difficult.
I’m coming out to you once again, dear reader.
I’m coming out as having only singular, masculine pronouns.
From now on, I would like you to refer to me as “he/him/his” in the third person. “You/your/yours” is fine if you’re talking to me directly. “We/us” is appropriate if you are using first-person plural pronouns involving me.
I’m still non-binary because I’m just a very confusing, layered human being.
I know. This is going to be tough, but we’ll get through it together.
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