I’ve had a superannuated cervix for eight and a bit decades now, and I consider myself to be a woman, whatever that is. I have, however, never defined myself as a woman as a result of having afore mentioned body part, nor indeed any other body parts that are ‘considered’ to be ‘female’. So why do I consider myself to be a woman when I have never had any idea what a maternal instinct, feeling or behaviour is about? Simple, because I do, it fits my hard wired mind set, and that is despite having an interest in machine tools, a rather well equipped workshop and never having been even close to being married nor pregnant, from choice I hasten to add. Allow me some pride please. I am a ‘straight’ who has only ever had sex with ‘men’, whatever those two terms mean, but again neither of those concepts make me a woman, nor do they preclude others of any other inclination(s) from being a woman.

Identity is a subject that has always fascinated me and it is complex for everyone. I’ve never understood why anyone cares how others perceive themselves to be, and I certainly don’t understand why they get upset about it to the point of becoming vitriolic. I don’t know what’s in the mind of any other, I can’t always work out what’s in my own mind, so if they identify as female I treat them as such. I suppose to me it’s a matter of good manners and respect. I admit I struggle with the plethora of pronouns available these days, but I do try to get it right. I invariably use she, her and hers with someone who self identifies as female even if ‘they’ prefer to use something else, but as I said I’ve had a cervix for eight and bit decades, so some allowance has to be made for a bit of ‘senior slippage’.

However, and there always is a however isn’t there, good manners and respect has to be a two way street. For me that means just as I am prepared to accept all on their own terms I expect them to accept me on mine. My thoughts are my own and no one, including, or perhaps especially, the ‘thought police’ has a right to tell me how I should think. Ultimately, should I choose not to engage with someone, or indeed a particular group of persons, that is my right. No one has the right to insist someone else listens to them. We all have the right to walk away. It’s no different from me deciding I don’t like the work of a particular author, or even a particular genre, and hence not reading their works. Personally I don’t like Jean Plaidy, though I do like Georgette Heyer, and I can’t stand Horror or Westerns, so I don’t read Plaidy, Horror or Westerns. I don’t, however, have a problem with persons who enjoy some or all of those and so presumably read them, although the moment they start to tell me about what they’ve read I close down and walk away. I just don’t wish to hear it.

As for politicians, all politicians everywhere, pontificating on identity issues, or indeed anything else, I don’t know who said this first, but it contains a lot of truth. ‘I could never bring myself to trust anyone who wants to make a living out of telling others how to live,’ maybe it was Robert A. Heinlein’s Lazarus Long? It sounds like it could be doesn’t it?