Transitioning is often seen through a medical lens, marked by physical changes to the body including hormone replacement therapy and sex reassignment surgery. While transitioning clearly demonstrates the fluidity of gender, the body, and how gender and the body interact and are perceived, the locations of sex on the body are often viewed as static. For someone to have fully transitioned, their gender and biological sex would seemingly “match.” I am in support of people doing whatever it is they need to do to feel good about their gender and I am in no way against this type of transitioning. However, what I believe is problematic is how this is typically seen as the default for trans* people. Not all trans* people transition or transition in this particular way.
The Phallic Titty Manifesto, a zine by a friend Jackie Wang
discusses the ambiguity of flesh, tits as dicks and dicks as clits, erotic lactation, Judith Butler, pregnant bodies, Louise Bourgeois, the lesbian phallus, unmaking and remaking bodies, expanding erogenous zones, and queer sex.
Through a queer lens, sex is no longer isolated to biological parts associated with our sex at birth or if they are their weight no longer holds. In this sense, there is a radical capability to transition or transgresses gender norms while still seemingly embodying the sex you were assigned at birth.
This makes me think of the usage of terms “female-bodied” and “male-bodied.” I have typically heard them used in the context of referring to trans*, genderqueer, and non-gender conforming folks. While someone will refer to someone with “they/their” pronouns in one breath, they will use “female-bodied” or “male-bodied” to refer to them in another. While I think this is subjective, dependent on the specific person and how they like to be referred to, I think this is extremely interesting. From this example, it is clear how deeply embedded sex and gender are in physical bodies. I think at times terms like these can (unintentionally) reinscribe the gender binary, in which some folks clearly do not identify with. If someone is trans*, why wouldn’t they be trans*-bodied (or however they would like to be referred)? Do you think it is inherently impossible to view the body, specifically sex on the body as fluid?

hell yeah. thanks for sharing v. also, this jackie person’s blog is really really great. good leftist theory/culture blogs with diverse material seem sort of hard to come by.
I think the aim of this is fantastic. I was actually on a friend’s page today and saw this quotation that they posted:
“People who have misgendered anyone with trans history often take the defensive position that misgendering is not such a big deal. Often the argument is made that they, personally, would not take such offense if they had been misgendered. First, let me reiterate that gender is something people with no trans experience or history can take for granted. If you have never had to earn the right to be your gender from an unwelcoming physician, or fight for the right to exist as your gender while waiting for the bus or trying to use a public restroom, then you are probably a whole lot less invested in the way that people see you. Second, I have to disagree with the idea that trans people are the only people who are offended by misgendering. In my years in the service industry, I have seen firsthand countless reactions of people exploding in rage when offered an incorrect ma’am or sir. Gender is important to most people’s identity, regardless of trans history, and most find the egregious insult of misgendering pretty darn offensive.”
— Char C – Why Misgendering is Bad
I don’t know. I want to believe that it is possible to view sex and gender on the body as fluid. It just is a process that takes so much unlearning of everything we are taught about what makes a person matter. In reality, there is no true importance when interacting with other people whether they are male or female, but we make it important. Personally, I have had a really hard time with this and have been actively trying to be more socially conscious of the language I use. A new friend of mine is a trans guy, whom I have only known for a few months as a guy. However, something in me – no clue where or why – still misuses the pronouns, inadvertently making an ass of myself. I think there needs to be a proper dynamic of understanding between people because in reality, we all slip up – but we all want to be recognized as what we put off. The attachment to the physical body manifests some inherent belief that there needs to be difference, and that the difference is for some reason significant.