Back in the good old days, back in the good old simple days, you were either a he or a she. You weren’t neither, or both, or the body of one but the soul of another, or any of the many other permutations and combinations you can find so easily these days.
The world was binary, gender-wise.
The current complexity, or confusion, or whatever you wish to call it, is a step forward. It’s a Good Thing when people feel empowered to show up as who they experience themselves as. It’s also a good thing when fewer and fewer straight/simple people blanch upon learning that the person they’re talking to is an LGBQ-whatever.
There’s another benefit, too. A secret benefit. When you have a binary gender division, the tendency is to look at the person you’re talking to as either a man or a woman. When there are all kinds of gender options, the gender lens falls away. It becomes less relevant—and this makes it a lot easier to be in relationship with the actual person rather than with the mask of the gender they happen to be tagged with.
When you have true, full, the-whole-damn-continuum gender diversity, a set of questions tags along: What does it matter what these person’s parts are? Or how they self-identify? Or who they choose to love?
It’s easier to get to the actual person, in other words.
What I’m saying: Gender fluidity isn’t only more true. It isn’t only more authentic.
It’s also more loving. More connecting. More humanistic.