Beyond the binary: Global traditions of gender fluidity

Authors: Oiwan, Carlos, Sydney, Rezwan, Janine, Nurbek, Ọmọ Yoòbá
Too often, gender fluidity is thought of as a “new” or even “Western” phenomenon. However, the reality is that countless cultures around the world have traditions and histories beyond the gender binary.
Many precolonial cultures recognized multiple genders, including two-spirit people in Indigenous groups in North America and First Nations groups, and Torres Strait Islander peoples in modern-day Australia, who celebrated brotherboys, sistergirls, and other gender-diverse identities. Many Pacific Islander communities also have gender variations, including the fiafifine in Niue, the fakaleiti in Tonga, the vaka sa lewa lewa in Fiji, the whakawahine in New Zealand, the rae rae in Tahiti, and the mahu in Hawaii. In Africa, historians have identified rich histories of LGBTQ+ identities.
This fluidity is also present in folktales, religions, and myths worldwide, which feature complex, gender-diverse characters, from genderless creators and androgynous fertility deities to legendary figures who defy the gender binary or switch genders altogether. And in many cases, this fluidity isn’t incidental but a core tenet of the mythology itself.
However, with the spread of European colonialism and monotheistic religions, many of these myths were erased or flattened into binary gendered beings that fit into Western Christian ideologies. As one scholar notes, “their gendered worldview didn’t easily map onto the societies they encountered.”
Gender diversity was sidelined, and gender diverse people were forced to go underground and hide their identities. It’s important to note that gender diversity never disappeared — rather, people lost the opportunity to openly express themselves in fear of being persecuted or stigmatized.
While representation has ebbed and flowed in various cultures throughout history, gender diversity has remained visible in some religious and cultural myths. In this collaborative article, Global Voices dives into non-binary gender representation traditions from around the world, spanning China, South Asia, Africa, the Caribbean, and more.
Mythological roots in Hinduism
The theological foundation for gender variance is most powerfully articulated in ancient Hindu texts and epics.
The most well-known gender fluid Hindu God is the Ardhanarishvara (The Half-Female Lord), which represents the composite androgynous (masculine and feminine) form of the Hindu deity Shiva and his consort, the goddess Parvati.
Ardhanarishvara is depicted as a single figure divided down the middle: Shiva on the right and Parvati on the left. The name means “the Lord who is half woman.” This deity symbolizes the unity and balance of the masculine and feminine energies, Purusha and Prakriti, representing the ultimate reality that transcends binary gender. It is a philosophical cornerstone for understanding gender as a spectrum.
Gender fluidity is also commonly found in numerous Hindu epics. In the Hindu epic “Ramayana,” on the very first day of his 14-year exile from Ayodhya, lord Rama asks his devotees — “men and women” to return to the city; those who stayed and waited for him are later blessed and identified with the origins of the hijra (a third gender) community who are still found in South Asia today.
In the Hindu epic “Mahabharata,” in the thirteenth year of exile, the central character, the warrior Arjuna, disguises himself as Brihannala, “a eunuch teacher of music and dance,” to Princess Uttarā, which many modern writers frame as a third-gender or gender-crossing role. The god Vishnu also transforms into the enchantress Mohini, his only female avatar and a central figure for thinking about gender fluidity and divine embodiment.
A third gender, known as “Third Nature” (Tritiya Prakriti), is also recognized in ancient Hindu legal and medical texts (like the Kama Sutra and Sushruta Samhita) that explicitly refer to a third sex, describing individuals who are born with the characteristics of both sexes or who are attracted to their own sex, framing these identities as a natural part of human existence.
Fluidity in Chinese Buddhism
Buddhism also has a tradition of gender fluidity in its mythology. Guanshiyin Bodhisattva (觀世音菩薩) or Guanyin in short, meaning “the Bodhisattva (living Buddha) who perceives sounds of the world,” is a gender-fluid deity and one of the most beloved divine entities in Chinese Buddhism, Taoism, and other folk religions.
The original form of Guanyin is Avalokitesvara, a Bodhisattva associated with compassion. In early Buddhist Sutras (holy books), Avalokitesvara is depicted as “a valiant man” (in the Avatamak Sutra) or “a virtuous man” (in the Karuṇāpuṇḍarīka-sūtram). However, according to the Lotus Sutra, a Bodhisattva does not have a fixed gender, and Avalokitesvara appears in the living world to enlighten sentient beings in thirty-two different forms — from a Buddha or a Brahma king to a woman, a girl, or even a non-human form.
Sutras about Guanyin Avalokitesvara were first translated into Chinese during the Han Dynasty; its sculptures appeared in China, in particular along the Silk Road, around the North and South Dynasties.
The early sculptures, often in the form of “Lotus-Guanyin” (持蓮觀音), retained masculine features, including flat chests and sometimes mustaches. During the Tang Dynasty (618–907 CE), as China’s only female monarch Wu Zetian (624–705 CE) declared herself the reincarnation of the Maitreya Buddha, the image of Guanyin, often in the forms of “Eleven-Faces Guanyin” (十一面) and “Thousand Arms Guanyi” (千手觀音), became more androgynous, with female facial features and bodies. This cemented the belief that the compassionate goddess would always listen to and respond to believers’ requests (有求必應).
By the Song Dynasty (960–1279 CE), Guanyin took on an obvious female form, with the image of “Water-Moon Guanyin” (水月觀音) akin to the Chinese painting style and the grassroots worship of “the Child-giving Guanyin” (送子觀音) among female believers.
During the Ming Dynasty (1368–1644), the epic Chinese novel, “Journey to the West,” (西游记) further consolidated Guanyin’s iconography as the maternal goddess of mercy, as the deity, in her “South-sea” or “Cross-sea Guanyin” (南海 / 渡觀音) female image, directs the pilgrimage by taming the Monkey King, recruiting the virtuous monk Tang Sanzang and all of his bodyguards and helping the pilgrims solve many of the challenges along the journey. Today, statues of “South-Sea Guangyin” are frequently seen along China’s coasts.
Precolumbian gender fluidity in Peru and Ecuador
The first Europeans to arrive on the coast of present-day Ecuador encountered a figure who did not fit their binary gender categories. Colonial chronicles describe the “enchaquirados” — young people who, according to these accounts, were designated from an early age to perform ritual roles, dressed as women, and engaged in ceremonial relationships with members of the Huancavilca elite. Written from a perspective deeply shaped by 16th-century European morality, these accounts are among the most frequently cited historical records of alternative understandings of gender in pre-Hispanic Ecuadorian societies.
Far from remaining confined to archives, the story of the enchaquirados has come back to life in contemporary Ecuador. Research by scholars such as anthropologist Hugo Benavides has prompted a critical re-examination of this episode, while in Engabao — a fishing community in Guayas province — an LGBTQ+ collective adopted the name “Los Enchaquirados” to reclaim a history that had long been rendered invisible. This experience was captured in the documentary “La playa de los enchaquirados” (The Beach of the Enchaquirados), which links the pre-Hispanic past with current discussions on identity, memory, and diversity.
Hundreds of kilometers to the south, in the heart of the Andean world, colonial sources also recorded figures who defy gender categories understood through Western parameters. Among them are the “quariwarmi,” figures associated with ceremonial practices of the Inca world — particularly in territories that are now part of Peru. Their name combines the Quechua words “qari” (man) and “warmi” (woman), and various studies describe them as ritual specialists linked to spaces where the distinction between the masculine and the feminine did not necessarily adhere to a rigid or exclusionary logic.
Interpretations regarding the quariwarmi remain a subject of debate, yet their presence in historical sources has led researchers to re-examine how Andean societies conceived of gender before colonization. Some authors argue that these figures should be understood within a broader framework of complementarity and balance among various social and spiritual principles. Beyond academic discourse, the quariwarmi have become a significant reference point for understanding the diversity of human experiences documented in the pre-Hispanic Andean world.
Human transformers and gender fluidity in Yorùbá cosmology
Long before the modern term “gender bending” became commonplace, the ancient Yorùbá of West Africa had special beings believed to move between masculinity and femininity. These beings were called òrìṣà.
One of the most beloved òrìṣà is Ọbàtálá, who is regarded as a creator deity in Yoruba mythology. Ọbàtálá is often interpreted as embodying both masculine and feminine qualities and is associated with the creation of humans through the molding of the fetus in clay, both physically in the womb and spiritually. Because this creative force extends across male and female reproductive existence, Ọbàtálá is often viewed as transcending rigid gender boundaries.
Another òrìṣà frequently described through transformation is Èṣù Ọ̀dàrà. Èṣù, which has been commonly mistranslated as Devil/Satan by Christian missionaries, represents duality and change. Everything has an opposite, and these dual spaces are occupied by Èṣù. Because of this role, Èṣù may be interpreted as male or female, tall or short, good (àdó aṣure) or bad (àdó aṣubí). Within the esoteric corpus of Ifá (the scripture of the Yoruba religion and divination system), there is a story in which Èṣù transformed into a woman. It is said that a man named Ṣàkòtó, seeking good fortune, made sacrificial offerings, and Èṣù transformed into a female form to test the man’s character.
Beyond physical transformation, there are female òrìṣà whose identities challenge expectations of femininity. Ọya, wife of Ṣàngó and the òrìṣà of the River Niger (odò Ọya), embodies transition and movement. Associated with storms and powerful winds. Ọya is also portrayed as possessing qualities traditionally associated with men: Authority, courage, and participation in warfare. Her fierceness is linked to the buffalo, whose horns serve as her totem and symbol of force.
Ọ̀ṣun is the òrìṣà of fertility, beauty, intelligence, diplomacy, and political power. In the creation narratives, Olódùmarè, the genderless Supreme Being, sent sixteen emissaries to establish order on earth, and Ọ̀ṣun was the only female among them. The men excluded her from decision-making, which led to a failed earthly mission. They returned to Olódùmarè to complain, and they were told that progress required negotiating with the woman they had ignored. In the end, Ọ̀ṣun emerged as a force of authority whose wisdom restored balance.
All said and done, Yorùbá sacred traditions preserve narratives of òrìṣà who exhibit transformation, fluidity, and boundary-crossing in different forms, and their memory continues to live in the minds of Yorùbá people across the world.
A Carnival character that crosses gender lines
One of Trinidad and Tobago’s most beloved traditional masquerade characters is the Dame Lorraine, who has been part of Carnival expression for centuries. Even today, the character’s comical performances, which were rooted in parodying the French planter class, are well received by spectators.
Easily identified by her hefty bosom and exaggeratedly ample buttocks, Dame Lorraine was historically played by men crossdressing. Since the whole point was less about convincingly portraying a woman and more about mocking colonial oppressors, men were suited to the role in various ways. Apart from the fact that 18th- and 19th-century masquerade and public performance traditions around Carnival tended to be male-dominated, their physicality and exaggerated movements often heightened the comedy through caricature.
A 2021 article at Folklife suggested that the practice of men portraying female characters “may have been inspired by the Gẹlẹdẹ masquerade in West African Yoruba societies, which venerate the role and power of women in society.” Trinidadian dancer and cultural commentator Sonja Dumas, however, stressed that “the original Dame Lorraine was a performance by groups of recently emancipated African people, and it wasn’t a singular character or a band of people in the same costume. It was a satirical performance of the colonial period — yet another gesture of resistance on the part of the Africans.”
Dumas surmised that the fact that Dame Lorraines were originally played by men was “yet another manifestation of carnivalesque inversion.” Interestingly, anthropologist Daniel J. Crowley posited that “women also played the Dame Lorraine back in the Jamette Carnival day,” and that perhaps both the men and women of the time could have opted to dress as the opposite gender.
The Dame even has her own theme song, typically played whenever the character performs:
Nowadays, more women than men dress up as Dames Lorraine. The costume consists of an ankle-length dress with wrist-length sleeves, often with frills and other embellishments. The Dames usually carry a fan and parasol, or sport an ornately decorated wide-brimmed hat. Her movements, though, are what make this character truly special. She dances in a manner that is at once humorous, suggestive, and rebellious, with her substantial lady parts taking center stage in a tantalizingly satirical sway.
Carnival has always been a space for cutting social commentary, and characters like Dame Lorraine embody clever ways to challenge authority and give voice to self-expression.
Women warriors defying traditional gender roles
Kyrgyz folklore is rich with stories of warrior women defying traditional gender roles, which remain popular today across communities worldwide. The two most famous tales belong to Kyz Saikal (Saikal the Maiden) and Janyl Myrza (Janyl the Warrior).
Kyz Saikal is one of the characters found in the epic of “Manas,” the most famous and important folktale in Kyrgyzstan. In the epic, Kyz Saikal is described as a fierce and skillful warrior from the Noighut tribe. The two most famous versions of the epic, told by manaschy (Manas tellers) Sagymbay Orozbakov and Sayakbay Karalayev, mention her beauty, strength, skills, and courage, stating she “carried a sword, spear, and shield.”
In Orozbakov’s version, she challenges Manas, the main hero and warrior, to a jousting duel with spears, promising to give up her life, freedom, and a horse should she lose and asking for peace and freedom for her people should she win. She injures Manas, who is saved by one of his trusted companions named Chubak, whose interference violates the rules of jousting.
In Karalayev’s version, Manas and Kyz Saikal compete twice, each winning one duel. After Manas wins in the end, he asks for her hand in marriage, which Kyz Saikal declines, offering to be his wife in the afterlife instead, since Manas already had a wife.
In 2016, the BBC included Kyz Saikal in its list of 100 influential and inspirational women around the world and created a brief documentary about her.
Rivaling Kyz Saikal’s legendary status and perhaps even overshadowing it is the legend of Janyl Myrza, known as a fierce warrior, excellent rider, and deadly markswoman. Her story is laid out in the eponymous poem written by Tenti Adysheva based on existing oral legends. As a long-awaited only child in her family, Janyl Myrza was brought up by her father to serve as a leader of her Noighut tribe. According to legends, she successfully defended her people against the Kalmyk invaders.
Her life takes a tragic turn after she kills a warrior named Tulku and his companions after they attack her village and steal herds of horses for declining Tulku’s offer to get married. Tulku’s tribesmen avenge his death by kidnapping Janyl Myrza and marrying her off to an elder named Kalmatay. Defiant, she eventually escapes from the marriage, threatening to shoot down anyone who dares chase after her. Her life ends in her native village in Kakshaal, where she finds desolation upon her return.
Just like Kyz Saikal, Janyl Myrza takes on duties traditionally reserved for men while also actively charting her own fate, refusing to be a bystander. Both stories exemplify women breaking gender barriers and social norms within Kyrgyz society.
In addition to these examples, there are hundreds across geography and time. While there have historically been systemic efforts to eliminate gender diversity — with some still continuing today — the fact that it perseveres is a testament to its status as a timeless and undeniable part of the human experience.