My gender identity (cis woman) can tell you exactly two things about me.
1. I have female genital organs and I am okay with that.
2. I was probably socialized to be a girl/woman.
That’s it. It cannot tell you if that socialization worked, it cannot tell you my sexual orientation, it cannot tell you whether or not I plan to have children, it cannot tell you my favorite color or my occupation or my hobbies or my philosophy of life and love.
Personally, my gender has never been that important to me. I never particularly thought of myself as a girl or woman until I became a feminist and chose that identity self-consciously as an act of radical reclaiming. In 1/2 of my sex dreams, I have my current body, and in that other half, I have a male body. Sometimes I dream I have both sets of sexual organs. My inner child is a little boy. I didn’t wear dresses willingly until college. When I was 5, my favorite clothing was all pink and frills. When I was a teenager, I wore clothes from the boys’ and men’s sections and cut my hair short. I have always read hard science fiction (often coded male) and romantic fantasy (often coded female), plus Jane Austen and Oscar Wilde and Dickens and Shakespeare, E.O. Wilson and Sylvia Earle. I played with Transformers and dolls and stuffed animals and army figures and blocks and chalkboards and Hungry Hungry Hippos.
Ok? The only way to know that kind of thing about me – my likes and dislikes, my history, my thoughts on gender and sexuality and the roles of men and women and what I want out of life – are to FUCKING ASK ME. So unless your question is “do you have a uterus?” knowing my gender identity is not going to help you, so fuck off.