How Trans People Use “Trans Enough”
Unfortunately, we’re not immune to the context in which we were raised. Trans people have used “trans enough” ideology to gatekeep our own community spaces, and have harmed ourselves in the process. Ultimately, we must learn to make space for all the many different ways that one can come to interact with, claim, and even release trans identities.
This article is part of my series on the concept of “trans enough.” You can find all the articles linked here. Or, you can read about the history of “trans enough” here, and about the ways cis people use the concept of trans enough here.
One refrain that I have heard again and again in my decade or so of time spent in trans spaces is the concern that one isn’t “trans enough” in one way or another. This is sometimes applied by folks to themselves, and quite unfortunately, it is sometimes (far too often) used to police others. I hope that my previous two posts have shown that the very concept of “trans enough” was invented by cis people—sometimes well-meaning—who wanted to find a way to police the lines of gender identity and presentation. In this post, I want to dive deep into how this arbitrary standard has been taken up by the trans community, and the damage that it continues to do.
Many, many, many trans people that I know have delayed important steps in their transitions due to fears of not being trans enough. They reflect feeling like they were just pretending, or that they came into their trans identity too late, or that what felt authentic to them wasn’t really trans, etc etc etc. Some folks knew that they felt something, but felt that claiming a trans identity would be appropriating an experience that didn’t belong to them. Others felt that other aspects of their gender performance invalidated their trans identity.
The Gold Star Trans Narrative
For many people, these feelings arise in part because of that old narrative I referenced in my previous posts. The narrative that Harry Benjamin published in his book, that has evolved over time and through our culture to become sort of the “gold star trans” narrative. Roughly, this narrative goes that real trans people know they are trans from a very young age, that real trans people conform to the expectations of their gender (also often from a very young age), that real trans people are binary identified, that real trans people are absolutely devastated by dysphoria, that real trans people want “all the surgeries,” etc.
There are absolutely trans people who fit some, or maybe even all of these parameters, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But remember that these boundaries were artificially constructed by cis people who wanted to make trans identities more legible to the medical profession. I can not emphasize enough that these boundaries are arbitrarily drawn along the lines of cisgender conventions and norms, and have nothing at all to do with the fact of trans realities. The thing we’ve named gender is complex, and while its convenient if everyone sort of neatly slots into a few limited categories, its dishonest and damaging to pretend that this is the case. By denying the stunning depth and breadth of trans identities, experiences, and lives, we (trans people) throw in with the same kind of cis nonsense that so many of us spend our lifetimes resisting.
Intracommunity Gatekeeping
I mentioned that trans people police their own gender experiences by doubting their identities and delaying their transitions, but this phenomenon also effects how people within the trans community treat one another. For example, there are loud social media presences who gain a lot of followers, views, and attention by judging other people for being, or not being, “trans enough.” (I will not be linking any such people.) These people are just the most vocal contingent—there are many such conversations that happen in both public and private settings.
There may be some people who think that there is some cultural capital to be had by identifying publicly as trans, and do so despite not actually having any trans identity. It’s unfortunate that someone would think this way, as it feels like a cheapening or a mockery of trans lives, even while so many of us fight for a right to exist at all. However, I think that if these people exist, they represent a very small minority. For the most part, I think that folks who identify as trans do so because simply because they are, in fact, trans.
So why are there trans people who gatekeep in this way? I think there’s a really natural human inclination to draw boundaries between “us” and “them.” Drawing bright lines between who is and isn’t “trans enough” (or “really trans,” which I think are two facets of the same bullshit) offers folks a way to feel like they belong somewhere—like they have a place in this world. As sympathetic as I am to the need to feel like you have a place in this world, I can’t say I condone the attitude that anyone can police anyone else’s gender and make determinations about their status as “trans enough” or “really trans”.
Breaking the Cycle
Here’s the thing—what we now call trans has always existed. It has existed as long as humans have existed because humans naturally create categories, and naturally buck them too. Transgender, trans—humans made these terms to describe relationships to gender that fell outside of the dominant narratives. These terms are quite useful in many ways—they are a shorthand for a type of shared experience. But truly, these categories should work for us, not control us or define us. Each of us can only define themself. That is the extent of our power. By defining ourselves and resisting the urge to define others, we can begin to explore what it looks like when we exist in power with, and not power over, our fellow trans family.
When we refuse to gatekeeper one another, we are that much closer to creating the conditions necessary for people to explore and actualize their own authentic identity. When folks are so scared of not being “trans enough,” they may feel pressure to perform an identity that isn’t ideal for them, or they might avoid claiming their identity altogether.
To be clear, I think of this as a cycle of trauma. The “trans enough” or “true trans” narrative has been used to harm and abuse trans people for decades, and now we use it against one another as well. It’s never too late to choose to break the cycle—and yes, it must be a conscious choice.
Conclusion
There are still times when I find “trans enough” thoughts bubbling up in me. Judgments about others and their journeys occasionally come up, especially when I fall into the thought-trap of comparing. Feeling that someone else has an easier time of things, etc. But when I take a step back and drop into my best self, it’s clear to me that these comparisons are unproductive. There are endless varieties of gender journeys. No two people will be the same. And when we step back and allow ourselves to appreciate that as a positive thing, we can make space for each person to have their own experience. We can break the cycle of iron-fisted social control of gender.