#headcovering

So a consistent part of my modesty has been the desire to separate peoples access (visually) to my body. I wanted to cut down on the opinions, comments, and perceived entitlement over my body by obscuring it. This was especially colored by narratives about “how a woman’s body should be” or “what a woman’s body is designed for” and me quite staunchly wanting to physically distance myself from that. Yes, those narratives often underpin forcing modesty on women, but fundamentally those narratives are about men having access and control to women’s bodies sexually and otherwise. That being said, by choosing modesty for myself especially as someone who is queer and who participates in non-normative relationships I cast off those narratives for the most important person when it comes to my clothes: myself. Absolutely no cis straight man is going to have access to my body in any sexual way.

Now, as I’ve shared recently, I have learned I’m not actually perisex. I’ve lived my whole life up until recently believing I was a perisex girl/woman, lived my life accordingly (in terms of sociality), and with the exception of some early childhood medical complications that might be related to being intersex, have all those typical perisex woman experiences. That being said, when talking about intersex bodies and access, the conversation (while sharing some similarities) quite noticeably shifts.

People love asking questions. Having sought out intersex community now one of the first questions people ask is how exactly you’re intersex, what variation you have, etc. and I’m also entirely aware (even if I haven’t experienced it yet) that making one’s intersexuality known prompts people to get rather nosy. When seeking out intersex community it’s entirely understandable, and (for the most part) I’ve been able to keep my variations private without any pushback. Perisex people though are an entirely different can of worms. Having people ask about your genitals, call you the h-slur, and other such intersexist responses are most definitely going to occur if I’m open about being intersex long enough. For some reason being intersex means gross and invasive questions that are entirely inappropriate for their social context are actually completely warranted, but I would personally love to distance myself from that as well be limiting people’s visual access to my body.

Content warning for next paragraph: Vague mentions of sexual assault and harassment.

I’m not exactly a stranger to uncomfortable situations with some sexual context. Whenever I’ve experienced instances of someone else’s sexuality/curiosity being forced on me like being asked creepy sexual questions or having random drunk men grab me, I’ve been very thankful for the layers between myself and them. I get the almost overwhelming feeling that I want to hide, and when I can’t do that, having some obscurement via my clothes is comforting. I’ve had to deal with such problems in both skimpy outfits and my current more modest outfits, and it’s been a welcome barrier between myself and the outside world that can frequently be so hostile and dismissive of my own autonomy. (Which, note: instances of harassment did not decrease when I started dressing modestly and in a couple instances of assault can actually be attributed directly to me dressing modestly. So. Once again I’m drilling into your head modesty does not prevent this behavior.)

Content warning end.

All this to say, being intersex makes me more vulnerable to things like this. People are going to treat my body like some weird sexual-medical mix of a curiosity shop, but if I can’t stop people throwing rocks in my windows I can at least put up some bars that only I have the key to. Add that on top of the pressure intersex people feel to educate, to raise awareness, to be seen, just for a chance at having some semblance of respect. I don’t feel like I should put my literal body on the line to be public discourse, to be scrutinized by every person who hears the juicy details. The intersex activists who do that have a tremendous amount of strength, courage, and self-resilience that I simply do not have. Couple that with me simply not being an activist, and I find it entirely reasonable to want to keep the nature of my anatomy entirely to myself.