As a parent of two wonderfully androgynous kids, I’ve grown accustomed to the occasional mix-up when it comes to their gender. My son, with his stunning eyelashes and charming face, has been frequently mistaken for a girl since he was a baby. Now that he sports long hair, it’s even more common for strangers to refer to him as “she.” My daughter, who came along second, often dons her brother’s hand-me-downs. While I’ve added some flowery dresses to her closet, she frequently rocks jeans, black hoodies with dinosaur spikes, and gray shirts featuring motorcycles or bears. Though her hair is modest compared to her brother’s, I still catch people calling her a “cute little boy” from time to time.
Most of the time, I don’t bother correcting anyone. Typically, my kids are too engrossed in their own world to notice. If my son does catch a comment about him being a girl, he often corrects the person himself, which I completely support. Generally speaking, we let it slide—misgendering isn’t going to ruin anyone’s day.
However, in situations where it matters, like playgroups or when meeting people I expect we’ll see again, I’ll step in to clarify. After all, it can be a bit awkward for someone to find out my daughter is a girl after calling her “Little Dude” for months. When I do correct someone, it’s almost always met with flustered apologies. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” they exclaim, looking mortified.
Honestly, it’s a little puzzling how horrified people can get over misidentifying a baby. Who can really tell whether a swaddled bundle of joy is a boy or a girl? The moment a little one arrives, and the doctor announces, “It’s a (something),” I’m not looking for anyone’s validation.
That’s why I don’t bother correcting strangers. It really doesn’t matter if someone gets it wrong. I’m certainly not offended, nor should I be. I love that my children are growing up in a world that isn’t so rigidly defined by gender roles. My son, at four years old, is only just beginning to grasp the difference between boys and girls. He recognizes he’s a boy and that his sister is a girl, but he doesn’t confine himself to “boy” or “girl” preferences when it comes to toys or activities.
They both enjoy playing with trucks and dolls alike. They love shows like Blaze & the Monster Machines and Shimmer and Shine (though I’d be fine if they chose neither, for my sanity). They engage in puzzles, coloring, and the age-old competition of who can scream the loudest before driving me to the brink of madness.
It’s been fascinating to see their natural inclinations emerge without any nudging from me. My son is gentle and loves curling up with a book, while my daughter is a bundle of energy, often swinging from the ceiling and dressing up in whatever she can find. He enjoys watching me apply makeup and helping his dad with home improvement tasks, while she is forever climbing to the highest point on any playground. Each day brings new surprises from both of them.
So, don’t stress about misgendering my children. You have a 50/50 chance, and it’s not a game with winners or losers. Save the apologies; it’s unnecessary. My kids are simply being kids, and I’m perfectly happy with them exploring their identities without labels for now.
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Summary
In this article, a parent discusses the frequent misgendering of their two androgynous children and shares their perspective on the issue. The author embraces the fluidity of gender roles and emphasizes that such mix-ups don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. The kids are allowed to explore their identities without the constraints of gender expectations, leaving plenty of room for individuality and creativity.
Keyphrase: misgendering children
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