Being Non-Binary Is Not One Size Fits All, But That’s All We See On Screen

As a non-binary TV and film addict, I’ve been delighted to see the rise of non-binary and gender non-conforming characters over the past decade — I just wish it wasn’t so uniformly skinny and able-bodied.

The past few years have seen a steady rise of non-binary characters in mainstream TV and film. There was Cal in Sex Education, Jim in Our Flag Means Death, Bobbie in Rutherford Falls, Taylor in Billions, Mae in Feel Good, and Desire in The Sandman — just to name a few.

Rutherford Falls’ Bobbie Yang, played by non-binary Chinese-American actor Jesse Leigh, is far and away one of my absolute favourite characters of all time. In the second season of the tragically cancelled series, Bobbie runs for mayor in a heartwarming storyline. They’re genuinely trying to make their hometown community better, showing when queer people are embraced by the wider community, it’s a win for everyone.

Jim of Our Flag Means Death fame, played by non-binary actor Vico Ortiz, is also a huge win for non-binary storytelling. Set during the Golden Age of Piracy, the series shines a light on the queer histories destroyed and lost to tides of time. While Jim never calls themself non-binary, their desire to exist outside the man/woman binary is unmistakably trans. In Our Flag Means Death, the existence of non-binary identity transcends the misconception that being non-binary is new or a product of new language.

These characters’ beautiful trans-non-binary stories have been authentic, groundbreaking, and wonderful. That they were also portrayed by non-binary performers who bring their true experiences to the roles only makes it more so. Strides have been made in trans-non-binary stories that weren’t possible a decade ago.

But one thing these stories also have in common is the flattening of non-binary life into very limited thin, non-disabled non-binary experiences. This isn’t a problem exclusive to non-binary representation, but representation across the board. Characters who are fat and disabled, and generally marginalised by the dominant culture, receive relatively little meaningful representation in pop culture, and the representation they do achieve is often discriminatory.

Imagine you were a person who knew nothing about non-binary people. Mainstream pop culture would indicate that the non-binary experience is one almost uniformly tied to androgyny, thinness and having a non-disabled body; as if being non-binary is a checklist of features and not a deeply personal experience that is different for everyone.

Stories about gender non-confirming people that go beyond non-binary broad strokes are out there, though. The Stan series Sort Of follows Sabi, a trans non-binary Pakistani-American Muslim, as they navigate their nannying job, family expectations, and the confusion of their mid-to-late-20s. Created by and starring Bilal Baig, Sort Of is a personal experience of gender non-conformity. It isn’t a show concerned with presenting a comfortable concept of non-binary identity, it’s a show about a person who is, along with many other things, non-binary.

Non-binary people come in all sizes, and present in an infinite spectrum of ways. There are non-binary people who are not thin, who use wheelchairs, who take hormones, who answer to multiple pronouns, who don’t use binders, who present as butch or femme, and who didn’t discover their identity when they were young, etc. There is no one universal way to be non-binary, but the majority of Hollywood, it seems, finds it more palatable to act like there is; to make even gender non-conformity conform to fatphobic and ableist standards. The progress that has been made is a triumph, but we also need non-binary representation that reflects the body and cultural diversity of the community.