I was 14 when I realized I was transgender, back in the year 2014. Not much later, to my dismay, Caitlyn Jenner came out to the world – her novel identity fascinated the world, and that extended to my hometown in rural America. Suddenly, peers at school were talking about what they supposedly knew about transgender people, and my parents, who wouldn’t know I identified as trans for another year.
I’m well-versed in trans misinformation. Frankly, most transgender people are: it comes with being a marginalized person, expected to educate every single person you meet with unwavering patience. I don’t fault folks who get exhausted and frustrated after years of educating their friends, family, and strangers – that exhaustion led to the rise of Buzzfeed-like “Dear Cis People,” “100 Questions for White People,” and similar articles, videos, and posts during the 2010s that tried to rephrase that expectation. I always wondered when I would become frustrated and exhausted, likely to lash out like a stereotypical “blue-hair liberal.” Yet, eleven years later, I haven’t gotten to that point even though I’ve spent a decade in activism and educating cisgender people throughout those years. I can still manage patience, under one condition: I do not educate for bad faith. Many individuals purposely spread disinformation and “want to ask questions” to trans folks with the express purpose of being the Devil’s advocate. Those individuals are not open to actually learning and come with an agenda to demean or “convert” trans people. You cannot change them in one conversation, and they are not worth the effort. Anyone actually interested in understanding transness, that is not coming from a place of hatred, is worth teaching – even if they stumble on their journey.
Today, there’s more disinformation online than misinformation. There is a semantic difference: misinformation is false info spread, regardless of whether the person sharing knows if it’s true or not, while disinformation is purposely shared with knowledge that the info is false. All disinformation is misinformation, but disinformation is more nefarious. A family relative who shares a misleading post on Facebook about transgender people might not know its facts are wrong – that’s misinformation. If that relative knows that the post is incorrect, it becomes disinformation. There’s another conversation to be had on how to correct people with misinformation, since people hate being told they’re wrong and take corrections as a personal attack. Misinformation wasn’t that big of a deal ten years ago when flat-earthers and autism moms against vaccines were laughingstocks.
One of America’s two political parties has made misinformation an integral part of its platform and takes pride in “alternative media sources” that purposely lie. As a consequence, measles is back, polling officials get threats during election season for alleged fraud, and people won’t get a COVID vaccine because they heard it has a microchip in it. Lastly, the last election cycle gave certain social media platforms the notion that fact-checking is too political to enforce on their sites, so misinformation spreads faster than before.
Misinformation is a big deal, and I don’t mean to be an alarmist. It truly holds the potential to cost human lives. We are more familiar with current events, such as the effects of misinformation about the COVID vaccine pushing more Americans to forgo the vaccination, leading to more immunocompromised people dying and more healthy Americans suffering from “long COVID.” Or, when Russia hacked American media during the past election cycles to spread disinformation and seat Republican candidates better suited to their interests.
The fate of democracy and human health is a pretty big deal, but it can go even further. Back in the early 1900s, white supremacists played the long game on inciting genocide in Europe, leading to World War II and the Holocaust. For years, disinformation was created and spread to create a public notion that certain groups of people were deserving of imprisonment, torture, and death. A lot of people are scared right now because we’re seeing the beginning of something similar now – the Trump administration wants the public to believe that alleged illegal immigrants deserve to be deported without due process, which is integral in figuring out whether an accused person is actually illegal or an immigrant. If the general public is swayed into believing that is morally acceptable, worse practices can be instilled while it gets finalized into law.
Myth #1: Transgender identity is a trend.
Transgender people have existed in some form for a very, very long time. There are documented accounts of people identifying as transgender (or transsexual or as a transvestite, depending on the year) and medically transitioning with hormones and surgery from the early 1900s before either of the World Wars. Trans medical science was one of the top things targeted by the Nazi party in Germany when they purposely burned down the Institute of Sexual Research and forced researcher Magnus Hirschfeld to flee.
Even before the 20th century, transgender people have always been around. If you look hard enough, you can find traces of gender-diverse people spanning centuries and Roman emperoress Elagabalus. Transness was only recently documented, and it’s only entered the public subconscious and mainstream in the past couple of decades. People claim the same about how many queer people exist today compared to fifty years ago, or how autism is supposedly on the rise. When identities are no longer criminalized and it becomes okay for people to publicly identify themselves, people incorrectly assume there’s an “explosion” of people suddenly queer, autistic, or transgender. The same belief was held on a sudden rise years ago of people identifying as left-handed or folks being diabetic. There was never a real increase, but there was a perceived explosion of left-handed individuals because they weren’t being burned at the stake for writing differently, and people were able to survive diabetes with the discovery of synthetic insulin, creating a “spike” of diabetic people.
This myth is fairly easy to dispute, for now. In some countries, information is regulated: when governments censor topics in published books, movies, and content on the internet, it’s easy to convince people that transgender people don’t exist. We are not at that point yet in the United States, but the GOP does want to move towards that future, evidenced by forced removals of transgender people mentioned in history, research, and educational curricula. Thus, trans history matters.
Myth #2: Transgender regret is common.
Compared to other medical procedures, transgender services like hormone replacement therapy and surgery actually have astonishingly low regret rates. Every surgery has a regret rate, whether it’s from complications, lack of satisfaction, or another reason entirely. The average knee surgery has a regret rate upwards of 30%, breast implants maintain a regret rate of up to 47%, and successful pregnancies have a regret rate around 17%.
Trans-affirming care has a regret rate less than 1%. To medically transition, transgender people have to jump through numerous hoops: informed consent is only applicable for hormone replacement therapy (not surgery), and many transgender people still face barriers with informed consent because their medical insurance or government health coverage requires additional proof of therapy letters and referrals to pay for services. Depending on where you live in the US, getting top surgery can range from a few months to multiple years, and that wait time increases with less-accessible bottom surgeries. Legal transition, or the process of changing one’s legal name and gender marker on government documents, takes considerable time, too.
The reason transgender people have an astonishingly low regret rate is because of these hoops, but it also deters people from getting care when it could benefit them. Trans regret only gets media coverage because detransitioners become viral on the internet from their sob stories. It’s unfortunate when it actually happens, but stories from detransitioned folks of how they were tricked are made up: even in “fast” informed-consent, you have a barrage of questions to answer from doctors to access prescriptions, changes take weeks to show even minor things, and you have people with you throughout the process to check in. Despite this reality, the belief that medical professionals are diabolically trying to force people to be transgender gets clicks.
Another way to think about trans regret and medical care is to compare it to other services. All procedures have risks and there can always be complications. Those risks are not worth denying the service as a whole. It’d be impossible to fathom a world where cancer treatments are banned because a small percentage of people have negative experiences on a life-saving treatment; the same should be applied to transgender procedures since they are documented as life-saving, too.
Myth #3: Transgender people want to trick cisgender people.
This myth has numerous layers, but at its core, it’s the insecure and paranoid belief that transgender people want to trick cisgender folks into having sex or that transgender people get some joy out of “tricking” people into perceiving us as our affirmed gender. Transgender people want to be respected as their authentic selves, but we don’t get joy from “tricking” others like our identity is a prank.
Trans people tricking poor cisgender folks into having sex is a real problem – and it’s been used as the punchline trope in comedy for decades. It even has legal recognition in most states, referred to as “trans panic defenses,” where cisgender people accused of murdering a transgender person can legally claim they were so angry, upset, or shocked that someone was transgender that they just had to assault them. The legal procedure comes from the underlying fragility of cisgender people’s sexuality, since there’s nothing worse than being thought of as flirting (or worse) with a transgender person, and gives cis judges and juries a reason to excuse anti-transgender hate crimes.
Disclosure is the process of telling a person that you’re transgender, and it’s a very personal decision that comes with inherent safety risks. Every trans person knows there is some risk in telling someone new, ranging from a new possible ally to a barrage of insults to even being hate-crimed. Some people prefer being out because they feel safe to do so, while others remain stealth – but not because they’re hoping to trick someone.
The transgender community advises sexually active folks to have that tough conversation with a prospective partner before you’re in the bedroom. Each person is different: a transgender woman who has had bottom surgery might not need to disclose her transgender status during a one-night stand because there’s nothing actually distinguishing her from other women compared to the safety risk of telling a stranger that you’re trans; a transgender man might feel inclined to tell a women he’s been seeing that he’s trans because aspects of his transness could affect their potential future together.
Cisgender people get frustrated about disclosure: they feel entitled to know whether someone is transgender. Some cis folks believe they “always know” when someone is trans, too. Yes, it is ideal for transgender people to be open about their identities, but cisgender people cannot be entitled to that knowledge as long as we exist in a society that is dangerous to live in. In comparison, there are so many other things you might want to know when having a one-night stand or going on a date with someone, like whether they’re infertile, if they have a stable job, if they have a disability, or already have children. But we all understand we are not entitled to automatically get that knowledge, and it completely upends how humans socially interact with each other via the social script.
On the other end of the spectrum, there is a community of cisgender folks who want to have sex with trans individuals because they fetishize us as a kink. Chasers (or “admirers,” as they call themselves) actively seek us out for sex. Any porn website will have a transgender category. Trans-specific dating apps exist purely for chasers’ convenience. We do not need to “trick” cisgender people into having sex with us. Should transgender people like chasers? That’s another topic for a different post – the ultimate point is no, we don’t trick cisgender people.
Because of the above, there is actually a subsection of the transgender community that identifies as T4T, or “trans for trans.” These trans folks only date other transgender people – but unlike chasers, they do so because they feel safer and better understood by other transgender people. We don’t have to explain our transness or the complications of gender theory to another transgender person to feel heard; we don’t have to fear that they might believe we’re going to hell for being trans or go into a violent rage because of who we are.
Myth #4: Transgender people are sexually aroused by their bodies. / Transgender people hate their bodies.
I combined two common myths for this one because both relate to how cisgender people fail to empathize with trans experiences. The first part, or the belief that all transgender people get turned on by their bodies, relates to Freudian-era pseudoscience and confusing transvestites with transgender people.
There are individuals who are sexually aroused by their bodies: the scientific terms are autogynephilia and autoandrophilia. But unlike transvestites, transgender people do not transition because they seek sexual pleasure. Generally, transvestites just stop at crossdressing (aka not continuing transition by seeking hormones or surgery) because they don’t actually want to identify as another gender. Yet transvestites were infinitely more interesting to research during the early years of sexology, so research papers were written for years with this base assumption that transgender people transition out of kink.
Are transgender people allowed to be sexually aroused by their bodies? Cisgender people are allowed to feel confident or sexy when looking at themselves in the mirror. It would be hypocritical to say transgender people do not deserve that same right. To feel comfortable in our bodies, that includes having the capacity to feel sexual in them, too. But that’s more a philosophical question outside of the realm of this myth.
The second part, or that transgender people must hate their bodies, also dates back to early research on transgender people. Cisgender people have always struggled to grasp what causes a person to want to be a different gender – very few cis people think critically about their relationship with their sex assigned at birth, so gender isn’t something they’ve really considered. To rebel against their natural worldview, they believe transgender people must hate their bodies – anything else wouldn’t make sense.
These assumptions permeated the very beginning of transgender researchers, and even trans-friendly providers held these stereotypes. It became quickly obvious that to transition socially, medically, or legally, transgender people had to adhere to these stereotypes since cisgender people held the power to prescribe medicine or affirm legal changes that transgender folks did not. To allow trans people to transition, doctors wanted them to fit their rigid boxes of what they believed transness to be – and that always included the stereotype that transgender people absolutely hate their biological bodies.
Today, there’s a decent understanding within the scientific community that transgender identity does not come from a hatred of one’s body but rather a disconnect between one’s internal versus outward gender. That disconnect can include feelings of hatred, but it doesn’t have to. The term “gender dysphoria” refers to that disconnect, ranging in feeling just uncomfortable to more extreme disgust or hatred. There is also a community of individuals promoting the idea that gender euphoria is just as important as gender dysphoria when discussing the need for transition – transgender people should not be expected to hate themselves. To be happy and fulfilled people, we need to be allowed to feel content in our bodies.
Myth #5: Transgender people want to dominate in sports, prisons, schools, etc.
Transgender people make a small fraction of the general population, but the media is obsessed with focusing on the one or two individuals who participate in competitive sports. Regarding adult sports, there are two things to keep in mind: transitioned adults have been proven to have no scientific advantage in athletics, and even if they did have an advantage, that’s the point of competitive sports.
We aren’t asking for unlimited access to dominate sports, we want the right to play fairly as ourselves. Until the past year or so, transgender people have been playing small roles within sports without issue: most leagues have written rules on how transgender people may participate, which usually requires two to three years of documented hormone replacement therapy. HRT is the key factor on supposed “advantages,” since hormones dictate muscle growth, strength, and stamina in all human bodies. A transgender woman who has been on prescribed estrogen for five years has no biological advantage over a cisgender woman – and quite frankly, cisgender women do hold an advantage if they compete with naturally high testosterone or a hormone disorder. Other aspects of transition, like surgery or legal status, have zero bearing on competitive performance.
For emphasis, transgender people have been officially allowed to compete in the Olympics since 2004. The exact rules have varied, but the general consensus to be allowed to participate is hormone replacement therapy. And the standards used by the Olympics are used in countless other sports and minor leagues.
Some folks might still get up in arms about other “advantages” transgender may have, but none of them warrant barring a group of people from fair play. A transgender woman who is six foot might have an advantage at basketball, but so does a cisgender woman who is also six foot. It’s those small advantages that drive people to play sports based on what they’re good at. It’s the nature of competition and sports. Getting up in arms about bone structure or child socialization is just as nonsensical as barring people based on race, ethnicity, disability, and even class.
This myth is more ludicrous in school settings. It’s difficult to argue against the benefits of school sports: they provide exercise while giving youth crucial team building skills while they socialize in a structured setting. But due to the stigma transgender people automatically get from participating in sports, very few of us do – and even fewer participate in school sports. Even in the most liberal states, transgender students still have to adhere to established protocols, which almost always relate to documented hormone replacement therapy. Out of the thousands of students that participate in school sports each here, only one or two of them identify as transgender. If they’re playing by the rules, it’s hardly fair to ban them based on identity alone.
Lastly, transgender people don’t go to prison to use taxpayer dollars for gender-affirming care. It’s way easier to transition beyond prison, and the dangers transgender people are exposed to in prison are never worth it: compared to cisgender adults, transgender people are roughly 10 times more likely to be assaulted by both fellow prisoners and prison staff. Most transgender people are forcibly detransitioned while incarcerated, so the reality is closer to transgender people asking if they can access or continue medical care while incarcerated.