There’s this phenomenon in which cis women will start talking about how trans women are “raised with male privilege” and how this supposedly means various things. I was most recently reminded of this by mysocalledqueerlife, who wrote a post about how fraught a topic this can be and how dangerous it is to make assumptions about how trans women felt about being labeled as male. It’s worth a read.
I’ve been meaning to write for a while about how this dialogue can affect autistic women as well (and especially autistic trans women), and this round of conversation seems as good a time as any, so here goes.
In these conversations, the people who are talking about the effects of being “raised with male privilege” often see it as the root of a lot of different behaviors that they describe as “male” and therefore not belonging in women’s spaces. Things like talking a lot more than other people, or taking up physical space, or failing to use enough qualifiers like “I think…” or “I feel that…” before every sentence, or not being sufficiently “attuned” to others’ feelings.
And here I am, a cis woman, who does all of those things. And I know that that makes me unwelcome in some women’s spaces because I have been in those women’s spaces and it was clear that nobody wanted me there.
Like a lot of autistic people, I was a know-it-all as a kid. I talked ALL the time. I explained things to people, with all the authority that a kid can muster. I knew, very acutely, that was not an okay way for a girl to act. I didn’t pick up on “gentle” socialization cues all that much, but it turns out that when you keep talking more than you’re supposed to talk, people repeatedly tell you to shut up.
I got better at it, but I still talk way more than many women, and I’ve benefited from that in academics and my career since it helps me to compete with men.
I take up space sometimes. Not because I haven’t been socialized not to - in fact I’ve been explicitly reminded since childhood to take up as little space as possible - but my body doesn’t cooperate. When I’m trying to sit still, I either have to tuck my legs under me or have them kick out in various directions. My stuff sprawls all over tables and floors because I can’t easily manage it.
I lacked the module, as a kid, that apparently makes people selectively adopt mannerisms and behaviors from same-gender models. Despite feeling pretty confident that I was a girl, I picked up speech and behavior patterns from male friends or role models nearly as often as I picked them up from female friends or role models. When I’m talking under something other than my real name on the Internet, people often assume that I’m a man. I’ve heard this happens to other autistic women on the internet too.
I spent seventh through tenth grade in an all-girls’ school. It’s in women’s spaces like these that my failure to conform to various gendered expectations becomes most noticeable. Autistic people often have difficulty making friends, but I’ve (almost) never been as friendless as I was in that space.
I actually had a long period of questioning my gender identity specifically because of that experience of not-belonging in women’s spaces. I never wanted to be anything other than a woman, mind you. But this meme that only boys talk too much, only boys take up space, etc. actually was enough to make me worry that I wasn’t really a woman.
I have friends who are autistic trans women. They do all the same stuff that I do. They do this because they are autistic. It may also be true that, back when they were kids, adults didn’t tell them to shut up as much as they told me to because those adults viewed my friends as boys. But having grown up with one of these friends, I know for a fact that she was told to shut up a lot, just like I was. And that, for a variety of reasons (the fact that she was sexually abused, the fact that her parents had different personalities than mine, and the fact that she was labeled as disabled and subjected to personal-space-invading “therapies” at a younger age than I was), she was socialized to feel like she owned her body a lot less than I was.
If messaging about how only boys talk too much / take up space / talk in certain ways was enough to make me worry that I wasn’t supposed to be a woman even though I’m cis, think about what those messages can do to autistic trans women. Just think about it.
So: when you label these patterns of behavior as inherently “male” and then accuse trans women of exhibiting them in order to exclude them from women’s spaces, you are also excluding many disabled women and especially disabled trans women.
Don’t get me wrong - I get that it’s annoying to talk over people or to use a blunt tone of voice when people are talking about sensitive topics. I get why you’d want me or anyone else in the space to stop doing it. In fact, you should absolutely tell people to stop talking over other people or stepping on people’s toes. You can even tell people who persistently act this way, to the extent that others can’t participate, that they should leave. That’s part of making a safe space!
But you don’t get to make assumptions about why any given person is acting like that, and you don’t get to say that anyone who acts this way is somehow less of a woman. Heck, nondisabled cis women act like this all the time when they’re talking to people who are less privileged than they are (e.g., white women talking over women of color, nondisabled women talking over women with disabiltiies, etc.), and these are often the same women who try to argue that trans women “act privileged” and therefore shouldn’t be in women’s spaces.
Don’t be that person. Just… seriously, don’t.