My Gender is Not a Lifestyle Choice

Throughout my advocacy work within the transgender community, the most common misconception that I address is that gender is a choice. That is not to say there are not others. Not in the least. There are so many inaccurate perceptions of the community that at times, I don’t know where to begin. But this is as good as any place to start.

Let me state at the outset that I am transgender. My internal gender identity did not match the sex I was assigned at birth. That is to say, I was assigned male based solely on my external physical appearance, yet I am a woman based upon who I am in my head, my brain, my heart, my soul, in the very core of my being. And it wasn’t a choice. No more so than the colour of my eyes, or body shape. Sex and gender are not inextricably linked together. One does not presuppose the other. They are distinct and separate aspects of who we are. Just as sexual orientation. This disconnect has been labelled as Gender Dysphoria by the medical profession. And it is a terrible thing. And here’s why.

Gender Dysphoria is a soul sucking vortex that leads to a downward spiral. It can lead to depression, feelings of inadequacy, and robs you of any positive sense of self-worth. I suffered with it for over five decades. And suffered is not too strong a word, not by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t have a lot of specific memories of dysphoria when I was very young, but I do recall that I didn’t feel right. I knew something was wrong, but wasn’t sure what it was. Back then, there was no internet. No information regarding gender and sex that was easily available. Most medical practitioners were not really aware of it at the time. In fact, in my circumstances, those subjects were taboo. So I went through childhood and adolescence being confused and ashamed, not having any idea what was going on. Because I wasn’t like other boys. I didn’t like the things they did. Didn’t identify at all with who they were. It was lonely. I had very few friends, and in general wasn’t happy.

As I continued to grow up, I continued to spiral down. I left a caustic home environment when I was 17. Barely made it through undergraduate studies at university, having to work 40 hours a week to pay for it, all the while suffering from what I know now to be Gender Dysphoria. I finally crashed and got up the courage to seek formal medical help. In their desire to pigeon hole me, I was assessed for several things such as schizophrenia, multiple personality disorder, bi-polar disorder and depression. I was formally diagnosed with depression, which was accurate. Thanks Gender Dysphoria. I was not able to articulate my thoughts very well, and the guilt and shame and self-loathing of saying I felt that I was a girl in a society that was not at all ready to accept such a concept was overbearing to say the least.

I did manage to get my act together in some way to suppress the dysphoria, mostly through denial. Denial of who I was, my true self. However, I learned the hard way that dysphoria never goes away. The result of that strategy is that I crashed again, quite severely and once again, had to seek out help. To my good fortune, I was introduced to an amazing therapist, who, over the course of several years, was able to help me survive. The biggest thing that I learned is that I wasn’t broken. I didn’t need to be fixed. While I knew I didn’t choose this, it was good to know that in fact, I was born this way. And that is the key message.

Who would choose to be like this? Who would choose to suffer from Gender Dysphoria? I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. And that is just the tip of the iceberg. The big question was what happens next. How does one get off the dysphoria treadmill? For me, after decades of continuing the battle and countless hours of therapy, it became apparent that I had to transition; to become my authentic self. Reveal the woman that I am today to the world. But that came with its own set of challenges. There were so many unknowns. Would I lose my family? Would I lose my home? Would I have to find other employment, and friends? Would I be the victim of harassment and discrimination? Who would choose that set of circumstances? Being transgender a lifestyle choice? I don’t think so.

It is a matter of survival. And that is the true choice. My choice wasn’t to transition. It was to survive. The only way to survive was to transition. I transitioned because I had to, not because I wanted to. It was the only path to survival. That was the outcome. So the plan was to align my physical attributes with my internal identity, with the gender I was born as. I needed to repair what was essentially a physical birth defect. That also proved to be quite the process. The bureaucracy and cost of name and gender change on official documentation is not for the faint of heart. Until recently, is some instances, it wasn’t permitted to make the necessary changes. Again, who would choose to go through that? That in and of itself was soul crushing. Fortunately, depending on where you live, the processes are now well documented and can be done. Though it still does take time. I was eventually able to make all the necessary changes to documents such as drivers licence, health card, birth certificate, passport, social insurance, bank and financial records, and the list goes on and on.

Finally, I was able to receive approval by the health ministry to undergo Gender Confirmation Surgery. Yes, approval. I had to get approval to be my authentic self. Another hoop. More gatekeepers. It is exhausting. All this just to be my authentic self. Who I was born to be. Not a lifestyle choice.

I can now look in the mirror and see who I really am. To have that congruence is amazing. It is something that 99.5% of the population take for granted. It seems like such a simple thing, but that is what Gender Dysphoria denies people. To be who they were born to be. And that shouldn’t be a choice. Being transgender isn’t a choice. My gender is not a lifestyle choice. It is simply who I am.

You can learn more about my journey to becoming my authentic self in my recent top selling book Stranger in the Mirror: The Search for Me available on my website at www.erinleblanc.ca/publications and on Amazon worldwide.

Erin Leeann LeBlanc, MEd, LLM

Mind the Gap: Why Don’t Women Feel Entitled to Sexual Pleasure?

Let’s talk about orgasms. For most of us who are new to discussing this topic so openly, we may as well be small children, covering our ears and pretending not to hear our parents as they drone on about “the birds and the bees.” After all, in North America, talking about anything even remotely related to pleasure or sexual satisfaction outside of the bedroom is often considered socially taboo. This taboo is especially true when it comes to women and their bodies; it’s essential to keep this in mind before we go any further. Our social aversion to talking about sex, pleasure, and the sexual (and quite fun, might I add) functions of our bodies is the very root of the problem.

As a society, and without proper communication with one another, we’ve come to think of the female orgasm as “rare,”; almost as if a woman’s pleasure, usually in the context of intercourse, is some myth or urban legend. When we look at the current data on the frequency of orgasms during heterosexual partnered sex, we can see how this idea has made having an orgasm somewhat of a “gendered experience” (Andrejek & Fetner, 2018). Researchers have dubbed this phenomenon the “orgasm gap.” In simple terms, this means that men engaging in partnered sexual intercourse with women reach orgasm much more frequently than their partners. 

Indeed, recent research has found that men three times the number of orgasms than women during partnered sex (Andrejek & Fetner, 2018). In terms of percentage, roughly 91% of men report that they “usually” or “always” reach orgasm as a result of intercourse. Yet, only 39% of women say that they “usually” or “always” reach orgasm during or as a result of intercourse. This data represents that an “orgasm gap” of 52% exists (Andrejek & Fetner, 2018).

Inequality in orgasm frequency is at least partially due to our cultural indifference to a woman’s sexual pleasure. Hookups (casual sex) are very common among young adults, especially those on college campuses, yet, in cases of casual sex, the woman’s orgasm takes a backseat to the man’s (Armstrong, England, & Fogarty, 2012). Armstrong, England, and Fogarty (2012) also hypothesize that during casual sex, men are socially conditioned to be more “selfish” and focused on their achievement of orgasm, while women might withhold information about their sexual preferences and desires (especially with a new partner). Here, staying quiet about her preferences decreases her chance of having an orgasm or reporting sexual satisfaction. 

Research also demonstrates that heterosexual women generally report both a desire to prioritize men’s orgasms, and sometimes even feel obligated to provide sexual pleasure to their partner (Armstrong, England, & Fogarty, 2012). Oddly enough, we see that these same women generally do not expect men to reciprocate the same prioritization. This standard is massively concerning; why should women be left out of having a pleasurable sexual experience during casual sex when an orgasm is an expected event for their partners?

Another factor relevant to the orgasm gap is the variety of sexual activity that heterosexual partners are engaging in. Zunino and Mac Cionnaith (2019) report that the more knowledge about the vulva (namely, about the clitoris) that the partner has, the higher the likelihood is for the woman to reach orgasm frequently. Additionally, oral sex has been found to contribute most consistently to the experience of orgasm for women, and increased clitoral stimulation is often touted as the “cure” for the orgasm gap. This information points to two really simple ways of “bridging the gap.” But why is this not being done?

A controversial contributor to the discussion of the orgasm gap is the role of sex education and pornography. In terms of sex ed, most school curriculums discount the topics of pleasure, sexual communication, and the value of partnered intimacy. However, knowledge of these concepts is key to understanding personal pleasure and orgasm, as well as how to satisfy one’s partner during sexual activity (Zunino & Mac Cionnaith, 2019). By omitting these topics from the sex ed curriculum, sex ed programs fail students by providing them with an incomplete sexual education. It merely is not sufficient to educate students, especially those reaching sexual maturity, that sex is exclusively for procreation (news flash: sex is also for pleasure). By providing better accessibility and openness for reproductive and sexual education and conversation, students can be empowered to take control of and feel entitled to their sexual pleasure, as well as to recognize and incorporate their partner’s pleasure into the scenario.

In addition, as Internet pornography becomes increasingly accessible to younger generations, we must account for its new role in modern sex ed. Halton (2019) found that the average age of exposure to porn (with depictions of sexual acts or naked bodies) is fourteen years old, right around the time of sexual maturation, and for many, this can be the first sexual activity event. Halton (2019) states that “rather than denying that teens are accessing and learning from porn, we need to provide young people with a comprehensive understanding of the artificial way in which porn is created.” 

Though porn can be positive and enriching for one’s sex life and sexual competence, we have to understand that porn is entertainment, not reality – see the Keep it Real Online campaign launched by the New Zealand Government. Since most Internet porn depicts a lack or absence of foreplay (it’s not realistic to be confronted with scenarios involving instant lubrication and rock hard erections!) and usually only obvious orgasm for the men in these videos, young people exposed to this content may view sexuality and sexual intercourse in very different ways (Halton, 2019). Girls may come to understand themselves as the “giver” of pleasure, not the “receiver,” and boys may feed off this notion as well. By breaking the sexual scripts demonstrated in most porn videos and educating people on the importance of sexual communication for comfortable and enjoyable intercourse, we are that much closer to bridging the gap. 

All in all, being able to bridge the orgasm gap and alter existing sexual scripts entirely will be no easy or short-lived task, but it is not impossible by any means. We may achieve this by encouraging a new discourse of sexual openness and flexibility, providing future generations with the tools to be responsive and respectful sexual partners, and teaching people to value their partner’s pleasure as much they do their own.

 In this way, we can create a society of people who care for themselves and others, sexually or otherwise. Since sexuality has been, and always will be an exponentially vital component of the human experience and the nature of social interaction, absolutely everyone should feel entitled to the experience of pleasurable and gratifying sexual activity. Yes, that means you, too.

Natali Shachar, BAH Psychology Student (4th year)

References

Andrejek, N., & Fetner, T. (2019). The Gender Gap in Orgasms: Survey Data from a Mid-Sized Canadian City. International Journal of Sexual Health, 31(1), 26–35.

Armstrong, E. A., England, P., & Fogarty, A. C. K. (2012). Accounting for Women’s Orgasm and Sexual Enjoyment in College Hookups and Relationships. American Sociological Review, 77(3), 435–462.

Halton, M. (2019, June 7). We Need to Talk About the Orgasm Gap – And How to Fix It. Retrieved from https://ideas.ted.com/we-need-to-talk-about-the-orgasm-gap-and-how-to-fix-it/.

Zunino, G. R. Q., & Mac Cionnaith, C. E. (2019, October 6). The Orgasm Gap and What Sex-Ed Did Not Teach You. Retrieved from https://theconversation.com/the-orgasm-gap-and-what-sex-ed-did-not-teach-you-92237.