That is an inflammatory question. And one with precedent in the Queer community. And no, I am not referring to people from outside of the community outing us, that happens plenty already, and can only be said to be an act of violence against this community.
For those of you who “remember” or know of the outing of mainly gay men in the 1980’s mainly, before and during the raging of the AIDS pandemic, there was a huge debate around this idea. That “out” gay men would “out” gay men who were in the closet as a forced form of solidarity.
I can’t help but think it is time to ask the same question in the trans community.
My own thoughts about the “outing” of gay men back in the day was that it was cruel. Who is anyone else to decide the fate of another. To suffer in silence is perhaps better than to be out and erased. And it felt private.
Why do I feel different this time? Or do I? I’m not even sure. I know the agony that I kept inside for decades, never letting anyone but the most intimate partners—the women I slept with long enough to know she had a softness in her towards me, and would protect me when I shared. And I will say this, not one woman ever left me because I came out as trans to her. Not once. I exclude my ex-wife, or soon-to-be-ex wife, who had no qualms to say she had left me because I was trans in open court.
And why is it okay to be a personal bigot? A bigot of one? She is a self-described “fag hag”. A term no longer uttered in polite society. She has two gay male friends that I know of. Calling herself a “fag hag” I assume is just a way for her to borrow their cool, to borrow “tolerance” when it appears to be in short order.
Do we call this a fig leaf? And wasn’t the fig leaf intended to hide shame? After all, she wants me to feel shame, but it is her shame that is on display.
There is a writer, a trans person, whose writing drives me up the wall. For several years, this person has written about the agony of being trans and the fear of coming out. I can’t stand it so I stopped reading it. But a part of me just wants to give them a slap, and say “come out then.”
What I am saying is that my perspective on this issue has changed now that I have come out. And that is possibly hypocritical. I can’t say that it isn’t. Do I care? Sometimes we need to lift the veil from our own sense of hypocrisy.
Times have been changing. Since LGB pride came along, there has been increasing, if not begrudging acceptance of the trans community. I have written about and note that many in the gay community have not welcomed the T as an addition to the Pride acronym, and in part they are right. LGB is a form of sexual preference—who we like to sleep with. It has become a sense of identity due to social pressure—we are gay and proud to be gay because society makes our sexuality the story.
Being trans is different. Being trans is about who we are, exclusive of our sexuality. I am a woman. At least I am a trans woman. And even this comes in so many flavours. Did I or did I not have an operation, do I or do I not take hormones, do I or do I not live out? The responses to these questions define me just as much as they define anyone else answering the question. None of us are any less trans for it. And despite the cynics and liars who may be out there falsely donning the trans mantle for reasons known and unknown (like a prison inmate seeking more lenient treatment).
I have been reminded recently that I must fight. I am a reluctant warrior. But the current tenor of the world is one that leaves me no choice. My real name means a “woman who fights” or “warrior woman” in Norse. I didn’t know that before the name chose me. And I say that, because the name did choose me. I had never seen or heard of it before, but when I changed my name I changed my entire name, including my surname.
A dear friend of mine said of her own choice in this matter, that she left her father’s name behind as he had never done anything for her. In many ways, I felt the same way. I had not articulated it, but when she spoke, her words resonated with a decision I had already made. One of my children chose the surname, an old family name,…and as I was looking into it, found my new first name, nestled in the tree of names which have been woven together to create the genetic fabric of me.
As a trans woman in today’s world, I know that roughly half of the world is no off-limits to me. That I risk death or detention in many places, places that I could have gone to easily as a man. The reminder of this comes when I pass through airport security, when a discussion ensues as to who will pat me down…at times, even despite what it says in my passport. This is particular true in very conservative Muslim country airports, places we might transit through.
What is happening in the US is frightening, and I will have to add it to my no-fly list. A former colleague of mine, one who I directly and indirectly turned into a millionaire (along with many others) spoke with me recently about his future. He was very kind to me and said all the right things, including my hated phrase “whatever makes you happy” which to me is a red flag sign for intolerance. We were talking about possibly pursuing opportunities together.
When I followed up with him a few weeks later I discovered that he had blocked me on WhatsApp, removed me as a contact on Linked-In, and no longer replies to text messages. What gives? I shouldn’t say this, but I will. He is a Jew. And while we might say that the Holocaust is behind us, there is no doubt that his community is one that experiences discrimination to this day. A fact we are reminded of in the most horrific ways.
And this is the problem with “othering”. When communities are divided and separated, it is easier to control them. This is precisely how the system works. There are never enough armed guards to control a population, but when they are separated and declawed, it becomes easy.
Take them out back one by one is unlikely to spark the same kind of resistance as a mass cull. And that is a bit what it feels like in the trans community today. We are being taken out back one by one and removed from society.
And so, yes, I think we need to be resistant, in a very public way. And to all the trans people who remain in hiding, come out, come the f* out. We are all taking a risk. We are not numerous. At least with gay men, roughly 10% of the population, there is relative abundance in numbers. Trans people are even less numerous than intersex people, perhaps only 0.5% of the population, one in 200 people. We are so few that we aren’t even worth hating.
I refuse to be an object of hate. And I will not out people myself, but I will be vocal to those I know who are in hiding and tell them to come out. Yes, I did lose everything…at least all the trappings. I lost my wife, am about to lose my home, my work and work opportunities. But I am also free now. Alive, and filled with the sense of possibility that life truly offers. And I am hopping mad.
I will call you a bigot if you show bigoted tendencies. If you allow for it in your life, and you don’t speak up. Silence is not an option. Just following orders is not an option. Utter and total civil disobedience is the only option.
I will resist. My life is taking a very different course. I am face out as a trans woman, and now as a sex worker. I refuse to feel anything but pride, and yes, I will get in your face if you are playing dress up behind closed doors and you call yourself trans. And I do still make a distinction between a transvestite, someone who gets off on wearing “clothes of the opposite sex”, a fetishist. This is a sexual peccadillo, not one that is part of the discussion frame any more than any other fetish. No, it is for trans people, transgender…if your body is out alignment with your sense of identity, then you must come out.
People need to see us. And it is true, that when someone a person knows and loves comes out, tolerance increases, even amongst the die-hard haters. Being forced to confront your own feelings and bigotry because someone you know and love is trans, even though it used to seem so far away, is a hugely positive step.
And I know that there are more “lovers” in the silent majority than bigots and haters. Just like the many men who are “rednecks” or “hicks” who have gone out of their way to show me and the world that they are not afraid of me, and are not like the haters…well let’s all be this way.
Don’t be silent. Silence is complicity. Stand up for us. March for us. We are being erased. The only way to prevent erasure is to stand tall and be counted.
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Thank you for this much needed post.
I have always been, and will always be an active ally, this meaning that it’s time for all of us to step up and let our support heard and our actions seen.
I know, and it is so important. I got a bee in my bonnet about a particular group of trans writers who lament about how hard their lives are, but none of them have come out. Stand up and be counted please.
I think this is the moment. Stand up or stand still and get bullied by this awful society and its bigot members. I will do my best to support the community, hoping this may help!
You are so right…It amazes me how we can still be learning the lessons of the past, when it is such a recent past. Silence is complicity.
You know I love and value you, my beautiful friend. I am of the belief that people should be given the space to out themselves when they are ready, though. But I also hear how frustrating it is to hear them lament about their lives, staying stuck, rather than stepping into their power. Again though, their journey, their path…or, at least, that is my humble opinion <3
I would never out someone. Philosophically I just couldn’t. I agree with you that it has to be their decision. Would I sympathise if someone else did it? Yes. Will I give them hell for lamenting and staying hidden? Also yes.
I’ve been struggling with gender identity issues my entire life. Two years ago I came to terms with being a trans woman, but I am still in the closet. I’m now 46, married with kids, and paralyzed with fear. No one knows. I’m exhausted, but I am going to come out. Some how.
I can’t believe I haven’t accidentally outed myself throughout all of these decades, especially with the “crossdressing”. So… would I be upset if someone outed me? Yes. But I would also be relieved I think. At least the closeting from my wife would be over. The power of my big secret destroyed. So maybe you are onto something here.
You will find your way. That post was written in reaction to someone who is quite outspoken about how hard it is to be trans, but has done nothing to give up the privilege that it is impossible to not take for granted as a man. They write about how hard it is. But yes, it is hard to be closeted, and was like that too, but like you, I stayed hidden, I didn’t talk about it to anyone. It was terrifying. I learned already as a child how not to do that, to stay hidden at all costs. And it ate away at me. I just couldn’t bare the thought of growing old and dying as a man. It was as much that I was not proud of “man” and what He represents in society, as a deep and profound ache to be female from my earliest conscious memories. We all have our own journeys to follow, and I understand completely where you are coming from. I have kids and my ex wife told me it would ruin their lives and wanted me to keep it under wraps. She was shamed and humiliated by it. But my kids have been the ultimate dream. I’m lucky. My family too. Almost all of my friends. I think that this is for 3 reasons. 1. as one friend said, “we loved you already, and now we see more of you, so we love you more.” 2. I: was never an asshole, and have tried to be kind to people even if I am just as much of a turkey as anyone else. 3. I went all in from the outset. I literally decided I am doing this one day, and I did, and I haven’t looked back or compromised. And when one person in my family said how hard it was to get used to my new name because they kept getting it wrong, I was very blunt and said it was profoundly disrespectful and if they think that is hard, then walk in my shoes. What can I say? It is the best thing I have ever done for myself. It cost me my marriage, my financial well-being, and a few close friendships. But I have gained everything, a joy in life that was always missing even if I had a wonderful life. If it is right for you, you will know when. And it is hard and unlikely that a spouse will be a part of it, and not fair to expect that of them–friendship yes, but ongoing partnership is a rare thing. Brace yourself.