Debunking the Myth of Biological Sex

Published February 11th, 2025

Language evolves.

As we—as human beings, uncover more knowledge about our bodies and experiences, we also uncover false binaries we’ve historically accepted as Truth. One of the biggest? The sex binary—in this instance, sex refers to our physical characteristics—hormones, chromosomes, genitalia, and secondary sex traits.

But here’s the thing: bodies are more complex than a simple binary.

Gender ≠ The Body

Our current cultural reckoning invites us to understand that gender is not inherently tied to the body.

We also need to integrate understanding that sex, as we’ve defined it, is a construct with real world consequences, too.

Why Biological Sex is a Problematic Term

+ It has been weaponized to dismiss the lived experiences of trans and non-binary people, often used to invalidate gender identity and uphold exclusionary policies.

+ It is frequently invoked to justify discrimination in healthcare, sports, education, and legal protections.

+ It ignores the reality of intersex people, whose existence alone disproves the idea of a strict male/female binary.

The more accurate term: sex assigned at birth

Using sex assigned at birth acknowledges that:

+ It’s an assignment that may or may not resonate with the individual.
+ It’s based on genitalia, which does not define gender.
+ It does not necessarily relate to identity.
+ It is not binary—intersex people exist!

Language shapes reality. Words matter. Sex and gender are two distinct aspects of our embodied experience as human beings.

The more we shift how we speak about gender and sex, the more we can dismantle false binaries and affirm transgender, non-binary, and intersex people. Of course, we must also commit to taking action beyond language, too.

Actions to consider:

+ Shift Your Language – Use “sex assigned at birth” instead of “biological sex” when discussing the body.

+Correct Misinformation – If you hear someone reinforcing the sex binary, engage them in conversation.

+Advocate for Policy Change – Support inclusive policies in workplaces, schools, and healthcare settings.

+Center Trans & Intersex Voices – Follow, learn from, and amplify educators and activists doing this work.

Reflection questions:

+ Have I ever assumed someone’s gender based on their physical traits?
+ Where did I first learn about the sex binary? How has that shaped my beliefs?
+ How have I learned about and been shaped by the gender binary?
+ What are ways I benefit from these false binaries?
+ How can I create spaces where trans and intersex people feel affirmed and safe?

Understanding language is just the start. Allyship requires action.

Spiritual Work Shouldn’t Harm: On Gender, Power, and Sacred Practice

originally published January 16, 2023; revised April 18th, 2025

Let’s talk about the divine feminine and masculine—terms we see so often in coaching containers, spiritual communities, and wellness spaces.

These archetypes are frequently introduced with good intentions: to offer a framework for understanding different ways of being, feeling, relating. The divine feminine is typically described as soft, intuitive, receptive; the divine masculine as structured, directive, assertive.

But let’s pause here: how are these ideas being taught? Who are they centering? And what assumptions do they carry?

Because too often, teachings about the divine feminine and masculine rely on or replicate a binary view of gender—and in doing so, they reinforce cisheteronormativity. That is, they assume or normalize the idea that people are either men or women, and that their identities and experiences must align with their assigned sex at birth. They often equate femininity with “women” and masculinity with “men,” collapsing expression and energy into identity in ways that erase trans, nonbinary, genderfluid, and agender people entirely.

And let’s be clear: cisheteronormativity is not neutral.

It is a product of colonial systems designed to restrict, control, and harm. It's woven into the structures of white supremacy, patriarchy, and capitalism. And it's not just harmful to trans and queer folks—it distorts what’s possible for all of us.

In the wellness and spiritual worlds—spaces that often claim to be radical, liberatory, and inclusive—it’s especially important to notice when teachings quietly (or overtly) replicate dominant norms. When we invoke “divine feminine energy” as something to be embraced by women, or something that’s been lost and needs to be reclaimed from masculine overdrive, we must ask: Which women? Whose bodies? What kinds of femininity? And who gets left out or harmed in the process?

If you're a teacher, facilitator, coach, or healer working with these frameworks, I invite you to go deeper:

• Are you examining how these archetypes intersect with systems of power and oppression?

• Are you explicitly welcoming gender-expansive people into the space?

• Are you assuming your audience is cisgender unless told otherwise?

• Are you using language that reinforces binary ideas of embodiment or worth?

Because let’s be honest—if we’re not doing this work, we’re not actually practicing healing. We’re just rebranding dominant culture with a spiritual aesthetic.

As I’ve written elsewhere: healing work is only as liberatory as our willingness to confront how power moves. If your teachings don’t make space for trans, nonbinary, and all marginalized people to exist fully—not just quietly included on a slide or buried in your FAQ—then there’s more work to do.

As Michelle Cassandra Johnson writes in Skill in Action:

“We live in a toxic culture that affects us all. We are not encouraged to see it, so we must learn to see our culture and how it teaches us to transform the absurd into normal.”

This isn’t a call-out. It’s an invitation. To get curious. To notice what you’ve inherited and what you’re passing on. To reflect on who your work truly includes—and who it might unintentionally exclude. To begin again, with more clarity and care.

You don’t need to throw away every teaching about feminine and masculine energies. You do need to interrogate how they’re framed. You do need to acknowledge the power structures they’re rooted in. And you do need to expand your language, your references, your imagination—so that what you're offering can actually support all of us.

LGBTQ+ Allyship for Yoga Teachers

Originally published as “Want to be a True Ally? Do the Inner Work” with Yoga Journal magazine.

We can create “safer” spaces for trans and non-binary people in yoga spaces. Here’s how. 

In yoga and wellness communities, the term “safe space” has intended to mean that “all are welcome.” But, the truth is, we cannot guarantee safety for every single person in a yoga space—because each individual has different needs and a personal understanding of what “safety” means for them. It’s impossible to hold space for an entire group of people and ensure that each person’s individual needs are constantly met, especially when what they need may shift or change.

But, while we might not be able to guarantee safe spaces, we can create safer spaces, says yoga teacher and social justice warrior Michelle Cassandra Johnson. Our yoga practice can show us how.

What is a safer space?

As a transgender, nonbinary, and queer person who has been practicing yoga for twenty years, I know firsthand the need for safer yoga spaces for those of us who don’t conform to gender norms, assignments, or expectations—spaces that welcome and respect trans and non-binary students, spaces where we aren’t misgendered or subjected to transphobic remarks, where we aren’t given dirty looks for being “unreadable” as a “man or woman,” where we can use a public bathroom or changing room in peace.

Safer spaces and communities are created by and with allies who see, validate, and affirm trans and non-binary community members. But genuine allyship—also often referred to as being an “accomplice” or a “co-conspirator”—is rooted in inner work. We cannot be in solidarity with others without committing to the deeper practices of noticing and questioning our thoughts, our actions, and our relationships. The truth is that allyship, like yoga, is a practice of inner work. And we must commit to this deeper work in order to create safer yoga spaces for all.

Finding the ally within

As a yoga teacher, you cannot guarantee the safety of your trans students. But aiming to create safer spaces for trans folks is within everyone’s reach. Doing so calls on the teachings of yoga, beginning with the yamas and niyamas—the ethical precepts contained in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras that are intended to guide our thoughts, actions, and relationships.

On our yoga mats, we learn to watch the nature of our minds, to observe our reactions and thought patterns, and to return to the present moment. This is Yoga Sutra 1.2, Yogas-citta-vrtti-nirodhah, in action. Melissa Shah, a yoga therapist trained in the Viniyoga tradition, interprets this Sutra to mean “directing the mind with sustained attention.”

Slowing down and practicing mindfulness is a yogic practice that supports us in engaging in the inner work we must do before we can fully engage in the outer work of allyship. When we slow down and when we practice mindfulness, we can remember the things that help us to become stronger allies.

Through present-moment awareness, we might be better able to notice our biases, the assumptions we make about others, and the ways in which our minds might be conditioned to see gender. By staying mindful, we can shift our minds, our behaviors, and our language choices in the moment.

When we practice mindfulness, we can remember that we can’t assume someone’s gender based on appearances. We can take the time to slow down and remember someone’s pronouns—or find the humility to ask if we’ve forgotten. We can choose to replace gendered language and heteronormative images with gender neutral words, cues, and imagery in our practice space and communities. Most importantly, we can acknowledge when harm has occurred—whether we’ve been the perpetrator or a witness—and we can engage in the practice of repair. We can take responsibility and hold ourselves and others accountable.

Applying the yamas and niyamas

Practicing this way is ahimsa, or non-harming, in practice. But it is also about svadhyaya, or self-study. When you look within, you can reflect on what narratives you might have internalized relating to your own experience of gender. Reflect on the ways you’ve personally experienced internal disconnects, suffering, or harm because of the gender binary and our gendered systems. These are constructs and systems that impact us all, regardless of our gender identities.

Trans, non-binary, and gender non-conforming folks suffer in this system, while cisgender folks benefit from it because they’re seen and upheld as the “norm.” And still, this is a both/and scenario. Cisgender folks also experience harmful effects.

For example, cis men and people socialized as men may limit emotional expression, a characteristic associated with toxic masculinity. A system that reinforces heteronormativity also proliferates Western cultural beauty standards. It promotes body shaming, fatphobia, diet culture, slut-shaming, and other harmful behaviors and beliefs that affect people of all gender identities.

Beginning the Culture Shift

In order for us to subvert the gender binary and create safer spaces in which all of us can thrive—and especially those of us most impacted by oppressive systems and structures—we must reflect on what we’ve internalized from harmful messaging and how that plays out in our lives.

This is what it means to take responsibility for yourself and others; this is what it means to commit to the work of holding yourself accountable. Yoga invites us to commit to our individual and collective transformation and liberation, creating a more welcoming and inclusive world for everybody.