New Delhi [India], December 20 : Not long ago in Mumbai, I encountered a surgeon who, in appearance, was one of the most physically imposing individuals I’d ever met. With a rugged, alpha-like presence, their demeanor radiated an intense, primal masculinity. Yet, this person identified as non-binary. Their truth defied the societal stereotypes that shape our understanding of gender. This encounter has stayed with me, challenging the way I think about identity, and the biases that are deeply ingrained within all of us.
The moment became even more striking when my assistant, who is now my partner, Vardaan Marwah, addressed the surgeon casually as “Bro.” The response was immediate—shock and offense. The surgeon was upset that Vardaan had assumed their gender based on appearance. Vardaan, in turn, was stunned. How could someone who fit the traditional image of masculinity not identify as male?
This moment wasn’t just awkward; it was an eye-opener. It revealed how often we make assumptions—sometimes unknowingly—that can cause harm. On one side was a person eager to be seen for who they truly were, free from the confines of gender stereotypes. On the other was a kind-hearted individual who had no intention of causing offense but had fallen into the trap of unconscious bias.
Stereotypes, like air, are everywhere, invisible yet pervasive. They are passed down through generations, shaping how we perceive the world without us even realizing it. Masculinity, we are told, looks like broad shoulders and facial hair, while femininity is defined by curves and long hair. Anything that doesn’t fit these neat categories is considered a deviation, a challenge to the status quo.
Even those of us who consider ourselves open-minded and progressive are not immune to these biases. As a 52-year-old gay man, I have often been stereotyped, reduced to a label before people even got to know me. Despite my efforts to be empathetic and understanding of diverse identities, it took me years to fully grasp the nuances of non-binary identities. Even now, I still catch myself making assumptions based on appearances.
The shock Vardaan felt that day mirrored my own earlier experiences, when I first encountered the concept of identity beyond the binary. Their reaction wasn’t malicious; it stemmed from a worldview that had never accounted for non-binary identities. It was the innocence of someone who had simply never been taught to think beyond the surface.
This innocence is widespread. A close friend of mine, an art dealer, once shared how she and her husband—both educated and thoughtful—were completely unaware of non-binary identities or the importance of pronouns. But their children knew. The generational divide was startling. We often assume that certain communities—like artists, intellectuals, or creatives—are more attuned to such ideas. But assumptions, as always, mislead us.
These stereotypes extend beyond gender. They permeate every aspect of our lives, including culture. For example, the music, food, and traditions of the Global South are often dismissed as “ethnic,” a word that carries an undertone of inferiority, implying that these rich, diverse cultures are somehow less sophisticated. Tragically, many of us from these cultures internalize this message, believing that our heritage is secondary or something to be diluted for broader acceptance.
The colonial mindset that dictates how we view masculinity and femininity is the same mindset that has told us to disregard the full spectrum of identity. These stereotypes are not just limiting; they are harmful. They erase, diminish, and wound. Undoing them is not as simple as declaring ourselves enlightened; it requires a slow, painful process of self-reflection and unlearning.
But unlearning is not a solitary endeavor. It’s a collective journey that requires everyone’s effort. Those of us raised with ingrained stereotypes must actively work to unlearn them and open our minds to new truths. At the same time, those who defy these stereotypes—those who identify outside the binary—must approach this journey with patience and empathy. This is not to place the burden of change solely on those who have already faced discrimination and misunderstanding. But if we are to move forward together, it must be through mutual understanding and respect.
The surgeon in Mumbai had every right to feel hurt by Vardaan’s assumption. Yet, their decision to engage, to explain their identity rather than retreat, became a moment of growth for everyone involved. The key for those of us learning is humility—recognizing that our assumptions are not universal truths but rather the products of a society that has failed to embrace the richness of human identity. We must listen, ask questions, and be willing to make mistakes, knowing that in doing so, we create opportunities to grow.
For those who live outside the binaries, the key is grace. While it is not their responsibility to educate us, their willingness to share their truth can catalyze change. When someone misgenders or makes assumptions about them, they have every right to feel upset. But their patience and willingness to explain their identity can foster understanding and transformation.
I think back to that moment in Mumbai—the awkward tension in the room as Vardaan struggled to apologize. It wasn’t just the surgeon’s offense that lingered; it was also Vardaan’s realization that they had unintentionally caused harm. Yet, within that discomfort was something hopeful: a chance for growth, a moment of connection, and a step toward change.
Unlearning is messy. It’s uncomfortable. It requires confronting our biases, acknowledging our mistakes, and committing to doing better. It demands empathy—not just for those we harm but for ourselves, as we navigate this process of change. Unlearning is not about perfection; it’s about progress. And it’s about creating harmony.
The truth is that we are all on this journey together. None of us were born knowing the importance of pronouns or how to look beyond stereotypes. But we all have the capacity to grow, to change, and to connect. That’s the hope I hold onto—that one day, moments like the one in Mumbai will become less fraught, that we will no longer be shocked when encountering non-binary individuals, and that we will move beyond the rigid categories of gender and identity.
This is about more than just gender. It’s about seeing one another fully and deeply, beyond assumptions and stereotypes. It’s about creating a world where kindness and curiosity replace judgment and ignorance. It’s about remembering that, at our core, we are all just humans trying to be seen, understood, and respected.
If we can hold onto that truth, if we can approach each other with empathy and humility, perhaps we can unlearn the mistakes of the past and build a better, freer, and more fulfilling future—one where everyone is free to be exactly who they are.