Double X's

These two little x's

So tiny

Even microscopic

Yet they seem to make all the difference

These tiny little x's

Seem to decide so much about me

What clothes I'm allowed to wear

What positions I can hold

In the church

In the workplace

In the home

On the street

On the bus

Late at night

All alone

But I can't ever go alone

I am lesser

I am her

I am not him

They say there is no difference anymore

That we live in a post-gender world

But they don't see

They can't know

The looks that I get

When I speak of my ambitions

When I say I don't want kids

They tell me I'll change my mind

That I don't know what I'm talking about

Or even that I'm wrong

Would you say those same things to him?

No, of course not.

Because I am not him

I am her.

What is it about these double x's?

To insult a man,

They call him a woman.

To degrade a woman,

They tell her she is not a man.

Because I was born with these double x's,

I must not act like a man

For fear of being degraded.

Questioning my womanhood,

They call me a dyke

Or tell me to return

To the comfy and unconfusing little world

Of these two little x's.

I want to be judged,

Not by my chromosomes,

But by the ideas inside my mind,

The passion in my heart,

And the character of my life.

If that's too hard,

If you can't see past these gender roles and sexual lines,

Then don't bother judging me at all.