I’m currently re-watching She-Hulk: Attorney At Law. I originally watched it when it was released in 2022, one year before my egg cracked. This time through, I’m getting a lot more out of it. Jennifer Walters’ story is about more than just a lawyer who transforms into a big green superhero—it’s a thoughtfully written transition allegory.
Throughout the story, Jen goes through a lot of the same psychological challenges that I have as I’ve transitioned, and the seventh episode of the first season really drives that point home. She has made her way out to a ranch owned by Emil Blonsky (the Abomination) to check on him. His ranch is a wellness retreat for super-enabled people, two of whom damage her car while “working out their issues.”
While she’s waiting for a tow truck, she wanders around, desperately trying to get a cell signal to see if she has received a message from a man, Josh, who ghosted her after three dates, and she stumbles into a group therapy session, where one of the participants was part of a group who tried to mug her to steal her DNA. Naturally, she hulks out and throws him around a bit before the others convince her to join the session and work on her anger issues—as well as her dating issues. Throughout the session, she remains in Hulk form.
The reason Josh affects her so much is because he was the first person who seemed to appreciate her as just Jen, without even mentioning She-Hulk. The group finally convinces her to delete Josh’s number because they think she’s a pretty great person inside, without her Hulk exterior. She transforms back into Jen, and feels accepted.
As soon as she transformed, the thought came to me: I do that. I wear my gender presentation as a shield. Or rather, I still do that. My male persona was an ill-fitting shield against a world that I was convinced would not accept the real me.
Then I realized, we all do that. We all wear our gender as a shield. And do you know who does it the most? Strictly binary cisgender men. Any crack in their manly armor is seen as an unforgivable weakness, a chance for other men to pounce on them and hurl feminizing insults at them.
I’m becoming more and more comfortable with my nonbinary nature, but I still feel protected when I wear makeup, affirming clothes, and especially when I wear a wig to cover my strongest source of dysphoria (although even that is reducing as it grows out). When people don’t really know me, that superficial layer helps them see that I’m just one of the girls. But I’m very aware that once people get to know me, they see who I am no matter how I’m dressed…for the most part, but that’s another article.
I’m very thankful that I understand the mutability of gender, and how tenuous the human binary concept really is. But most of the world still has a lot of trouble grasping that. So I’ll continue to wear my gender, especially in situations where it’s important for new people to see who I am. But as Jen realized at the end of the episode, I know that people appreciate my inner self, and that always shines through.