Passing Tips for Trans Men

Te Urukeiha Tuhua

TW: Discussions of transphobia and sexual violence 

Oh, you really thought? Sorry, there are no tips on ‘passing’ in this article. Passing is a stupid concept that I no longer give any time to. The barriers for us to access hormone blockers and hormone replacement therapy and top surgery and any other forms of gender affirming healthcare are only increasing, and yet people still expect us to present ourselves perfectly and appear as though we are cisgender. If we fail at this in any way, then we are obviously not trying hard enough, and are consequently treated like shit. I despise all of the rules that are imposed on us when it comes to being trans. We are held to impossibly high standards of perfection, and punished if we fall short of these. We are never allowed to simply exist as we are. 

No, I don’t hate my body. I love the way it transcends preconceived ideas about gender, how I can be both masculine and feminine at the same time. I love being trans and I would never want to change this. When I say this, people are confused. They seem to think that I should hate myself and lie awake crying every night, disgusted with my body; that I must need surgeries so that my body can look like a cis man, and only then can I be happy. And maybe not even then. I am sick of people acting as though my identity is contingent on how much pain I feel. God forbid I actually like myself. 

People treat our bodies as something that is disgusting, monstrous. Many people can only conceive two genders in the traditional sense, and anything that falls outside of this is alien. This difference can scare them, and this fear and misunderstanding warps into hatred towards us. In some cases it makes us enticing. A lot of the people I have sex with are attracted to me out of pure curiosity, and because I can fulfill some of their secret desires and fantasies. They objectify me, and because I am trans I am not even a human in their eyes. Trans people experience sexual violence at disproportionalty high rates, and this is a consequence of the way society views our bodies. Even people who claim to be accepting of trans people often treat us strangely. I have had people go out of their way to tell me that they would not date me because I am trans, despite me never having expressed interest in them. 

I am a bit of a people pleaser — a term which must be a misnomer because I widely disappoint most of the people who have the misfortune of speaking with me. However, I have always felt a very crushing desire to fit in. I want people to like me; as a bare minimum, I want to be treated as normal. This need to be liked — something so simple and yet so complex when all of society seems to hate you so much — is what has caused me to spend many agonising hours hurting myself in various ways for an ounce of approval. I embraced the term ‘twink’ for a while, because it seemed more widely accepted and likeable. I never felt that this was a term that actually fit me, more that it was placed onto me by other people. This was a label that I squeezed myself into, changing myself to embody it. I shaved various parts of my body because to be seen as a hairless, feminine gay boy was easier than being seen as trans. The way that I presented myself was a little more palatable, and very easily fetishized. I have allowed others to objectify me more times than I can count. I have objectified myself. It is hard for me to believe that anyone would like me or be attracted to me if I existed in my natural state. 

It wasn’t lost on me that people only started calling me a twink after I’d lost weight. Being skinny is often treated as though it is a form of fashion in and of itself, and I felt this deeply when people started calling me a twink. I viewed twink as being synonymous with skinny, and so (deep in the clutches of my eating disorder) I wore tight, revealing clothing and behaved more promiscuously. It is so deeply ingrained in us to view fat = bad, that skinniness is seen as something good, moral. Being trans, I faced even more challenges navigating body image issues. Trans bodies are already so far away from the ‘ideal body type’, and I was desperate for people to find me attractive and to like me. My own self-worth was defined by how I was viewed by other people. I relished in the many compliments I would receive almost daily, because I passed as a cis boy and everyone wanted to let me know that I was ‘slaying’ and that I was ‘absolutely gorgeous’ in my skirt. 

Nowadays I dress more for myself. I’m not quite so concerned with other people’s perceptions of me, and I wear whatever fits my mood of the day. Some days this is my long black dress and corset gifted to me by a friend; other days it’s simply pants and the branded Victoria University t-shirt I got for free on O-week. It is not easy to be trans, but it is easier now that I am older and have had access to the hormones I need for almost three years. It is also a lot easier being a trans man, because the hatred towards trans people is primarily directed towards trans women. Nobody is accusing me of being a predator or debating which bathroom I should be using. Most people don’t care at all. 

To every trans person reading this: Who you are right now is already gorgeous. Whether you’ve had surgeries or hormones, or not. If you want to have surgeries but can’t afford it right now. If you are trans but haven’t told anybody yet. There is no right or wrong when it comes to your gender and the way that you present yourself. The rise of fascism is terrifying, and we must continue to resist. To fight and survive and support one another. Our transness is a taonga, and must be treated as such.