There are moments when news lands with a particular weight, a sense of a step backwards, a narrowing of the lens. The recent Supreme Court ruling in the UK, confirming that for the purposes of certain laws, “woman” means someone whose sex was recorded as female at birth… it was one of those moments. It felt like a punch to the gut, a reduction of something vast and complex into a single, biological point in time, fixed at the very beginning of our lives.
My immediate thought, of course, was for trans women. The ruling, however legally nuanced it might be framed, felt like a profound act of erasure, a declaration that their lived experience, their identity, their journey of becoming and being a woman, was somehow secondary, less valid, or simply invisible in the eyes of the law. But the sting of it spreads. It’s a ruling that, by its very definition, impacts trans men, non-binary people, and intersex individuals too – anyone whose gender identity doesn’t align with that single, arbitrary marker on a birth certificate. To have your identity, something so fundamental to who you are, dismissed or redefined by an external authority based on sex assigned at birth must be a pain that runs bone-deep. It’s the feeling of being told, “You don’t belong here, not fully, not truly,” based on a single data point from the very first moments of life.
But as I sat with the discomfort of it, I realised this ruling doesn’t just impact trans individuals. It diminishes all who navigate the world with a gender identity that is multifaceted and deeply personal. It attempts to reduce the rich, messy, evolving nature of womanhood, or manhood, or non-binary existence, to something as simple as a marker on a birth certificate. It ignores the countless ways people experience and express gender, the internal landscape of identity that often has little to do with chromosomes or anatomy. It tells us that ‘woman’ (or ‘man’) is a fixed, biological state, not a lived experience, a journey, a complex interplay of identity, societal roles (however much we try to break free of them!), and inner knowing.
And here’s where the science, the unyielding evidence of human biology, joins hands with deep history to offer a powerful counter-narrative. Because the very premise of the ruling – that sex at birth is a simple, binary male/female – is fundamentally flawed. Science has shown us, unequivocally, that biological sex is far more complex. It’s not just about external anatomy. When we look at genetics, hormones, and chromosomes – at karyotypes – we know, without question, that humans are not just born male and female. There are at least six distinct biological sexes that can result in fairly typical lifespans, existing along a spectrum, not as two neat, separate boxes. To reduce a person’s identity, a person’s womanhood, to a binary biological marker when biology itself demonstrates such diversity feels not just legally questionable, but wilfully ignorant of scientific fact.
This scientific reality aligns with what history has shown us. If you look beyond the narrow confines of modern Western legal definitions, you see that gender has never been a simple binary throughout human history and across global cultures. Anthropologists, historians, and Indigenous scholars have documented numerous societies with sophisticated understandings of gender that go far beyond ‘male’ and ‘female.’
Think of the First Nations peoples of North America, where many tribes recognised individuals who embodied both masculine and feminine spirits – often referred to today by the umbrella term Two-Spirit. These individuals held respected, sometimes sacred roles in their communities, acting as healers, storytellers, or occupying specific social and spiritual positions that were distinct from either men or women. Their existence wasn’t just tolerated; it was often seen as a gift, a sign of having a unique perspective. As resources like the PBS site on Two-Spirits highlight, before European colonisation, hundreds, even thousands, of Indigenous peoples acknowledged and celebrated multiple gender identities as a fundamental part of their culture.
Or consider the diverse cultures across the African continent before the imposition of colonial norms. While varied, many societies had fluid understandings of gender and sexuality. We find evidence of roles and identities that didn’t fit a strict binary, sometimes linked to spiritual roles, specific tasks, or social status that wasn’t solely defined by sex assigned at birth. Part of the insidious process of colonisation included redefining culture, customs, identities, values, and norms. The imposition of the European ideal of a two-gender system (man, woman) was a powerful tool of this colonisation process, designed to replace existing, more fluid understandings and become the rigid standard for gender identity we often see enforced today.
To take that rich, complex history of human gender expression, coupled with the scientific reality of biological diversity, and flatten it down to a single line on a birth certificate feels not only harmful to trans, intersex, and non-binary individuals, but also deeply disrespectful to the nuanced ways humanity has understood itself across time and cultures, and to the very truth of our biology. It strips away the personal journey, the self-discovery, the courage it often takes to live authentically when your internal sense of self doesn’t align with external expectations or sex assigned at birth.
And this brings me back to something powerful I heard recently. Amber described trans people as wildly evolved human beings. It stopped me in my tracks. They spoke of the incredible levels of self-knowing, the immense courage, and the profound self-development it takes to live and walk through the world in your authentic embodiment, knowing that despite your own clear truth, many people will deeply misunderstand you, challenge you, or try to erase you. This perspective flips the script entirely. Living authentically in a world that resists it is a sign of deep inner work, resilience, and an advanced state of being. It frames trans people as wisdom keepers, individuals who hold a particular understanding of identity, authenticity, and the courage required to simply be who you are, even when it’s difficult.
Compassion feels like the only possible response to the harm caused by such reductive thinking, but perhaps we also need awe. Awe for the strength and self-knowledge required to navigate a world that insists on outdated, inaccurate binaries. Compassion for trans women, trans men, non-binary people, and intersex individuals whose identities are being challenged by legal decree and societal misunderstanding. Compassion for anyone who feels confined or invalidated by rigid definitions of gender. And compassion for ourselves, for the ways we have all been shaped and sometimes limited by societal expectations of what a ‘woman’ (or a ‘man’) should be, expectations often rigidly tied to that initial birth registration by a system that ignores both history and science, and the powerful evolution of the human spirit.
Womanhood, manhood, and all the myriad ways of being in the world are so much more than the sex recorded at birth. They are strength, resilience, vulnerability, fierce love, quiet knowing, the capacity for both creation and navigating challenge, the negotiation of societal expectations, the connection to generations past and future. They are personal truths, lived and embodied in ways that defy simple categorisation. Recognising and affirming the full spectrum of gender identity, acknowledging the complexities of biological sex, respecting the historical breadth of human experience, and honouring the profound self-knowledge of those who live their truth against the grain doesn’t diminish anyone; it expands our understanding of the richness, diversity, and complexity of human existence. It reminds us that true belonging is built on understanding and acceptance, not on narrow, legally enforced definitions tied to a single, biologically inaccurate, historically imposed marker from the day they were born. It’s about seeing the whole person, honouring their journey, and recognising that identity blooms in countless beautiful, courageous, and yes, wildly evolved ways.
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