How I Socialize As An Openly Gender-Critical Woman

A Potent Mix of Discernment and Boldness Makes It Fun

I’ve been wanting to write another post about how I make friends as a gender-critical woman for a long time now. But the truth is a little complex because I don’t have any close friends or a strong personal community at the moment. I have women in my life who I have formed meaningful connections with, but they are at a distance.

As of right now, there is nobody who I consistently sit down to share a meal with and discuss the happenings of our lives. My sense of community comes and goes in waves.

Part of this is because I have lived a transient lifestyle for a long time, and I have not always settled in environments that were conducive for my vision of community building—but that is changing.

In the past, some friends and family have also hated on me for my views, and I’ve always stood my ground in the face of their harshly misguided criticism. Those people are no longer in my life, either by their own volition or mine. Either way, I’m clear that I do not have space for relationships with people who cannot stand with me. My path is deeply rewarding, but not easy. I deserve respect and wholehearted support from those I bring near.

Regardless, I am a social butterfly! It’s easy for me to socialize with various types of people, including some of the people who would probably hate me if they read my blog. I go out regularly, and I enjoy connecting with people from different backgrounds. I may be somewhat of a loner, but social time is important to me, and it’s part of how I care for myself.

I want to add a disclaimer about referring to myself as “openly” gender-critical. Obviously, I am not super famous for my controversial opinions like Candace Owens or JK Rowling, so I have the advantage of walking into a space without encountering strangers who have already have made up their mind about me and my views. I also don’t waste my energy arguing with people who are clearly closed-minded, nor do I look for feathers to ruffle.

When I say I’m “openly” gender-critical, I mean that I set boundaries around my participation in “queer” social rituals, and I am willing to stick out like a sore thumb if it means saying No to something that goes against my values. I say what I mean, and I don’t change my language to appease anyone. My blog and social media platforms are filled with my controversial opinions, and I am actively growing my online presence. If strangers find out about me then it is what it is.

It has been a journey for me to figure out how to socialize in this political climate while retaining my integrity and authenticity—and while still protecting myself. Gender ideology is shoved down my throat in many social situations, often starting (but not ending) with being harassed for my pronouns as a prerequisite of participation. I cannot always predict when or how it will happen, and it can be very anxiety-inducing to walk certain new social settings.

However, I have gained a lot of proficiency in navigating these situations, and I’ve grown more comfortable in my own skin, which has opened the door to more connection.

Being who I am and existing at the intersections of various communities, I don’t neatly fit into the majority-white “gender-critical” sphere either. While I can seamlessly slip in and out of various spaces, and I often carve out my own, there is no manufactured community that holistically feels like home.

I have had to learn how to meet like-minded people organically in my everyday life, which requires me to cultivate discernment and exist fully in the world.

I’d like to share the key points and details of my approach to social life because it has really helped me identify and connect with lots of “gender-critical” people locally and in-person wherever I go. This has drastically reduced my sense of isolation and loneliness, at least in terms of feeling like I’m the only person in my midst who feels the way I do--and it has nurtured me in planting my seedlings for a brighter future in community with others.