Can a person be a trans ‘tranny chaser’?

November 13, 2010 § 2 Comments

Trans beauty

Trans readers of this post will already know what I mean by ‘tranny chaser’. Cis readers may need a little introduction.

May I present DAR? Go on, check it out. Then come on back for the discussion.

Yeah, so, um…well, that’s fairly disgusting. And is dissected, far better than I could do it, here.

And that’s just for us trans guys. The SHIT that trans women have to deal with. Just think of the phrase ‘chicks with dicks’. And then feel pretty fucking sad about the state of humanity. And the misogyny, disrespect and all round crap that trans people, particularly trans women, have to deal with.

Tranny chasers: (cis) people who fetishise trans people, and want to sleep with us not because of WHO we are, but because of WHAT we are. Or, rather, their simplistic and (frankly) ridiculous interpretations of what we are.

I think we can agree that this is pretty awful.

But, my confession: I find other trans people ridiculously beautiful.

I wish I could give an exact quotation from Julia Serano’s must read book ‘Whipping Girl’, but I can’t, because my mother has borrowed it and won’t give it back.

I shall attempt to paraphrase. Ms Serano discusses the fact that, although she is in a committed relationship with a cis woman, she finds other trans women particularly attractive. Mostly, in part, because of their bravery, and because she understands the agony of the journey they took – and the depth of character it required to take it.

And I completely understand.

There’s something about the majority of trans people (obvious exceptions for the horrible specimens that exist within every group of people) that I find compelling, beautiful, attractive.

I worry that this makes me as shallow and sinister as the cis tranny chasers who label us as ‘exotic’, ‘different’, ‘unique’ – who tell us that our genders are mere ‘performances’ and that the so-called ‘discrepancy’ between different parts of our bodies is a turn-on.

But, actually, no. I think it’s far more simple than that, and it’s been on my mind, as we come up to the annual Transgender Day of Remembrance, and respond to the ‘It gets better’ project.

We talk about how difficult it is for LGBT youth, and address the horror of their suicides. But I don’t feel that we’ve adequately addressed just how painful life can be for our trans youth.

Not just because of the bullying, and the cultural stigma, and the fear and/or actuality of being cut off from our family and friends.

But because of the essential nature of gender dysphoria, and the pain that it causes.

I remember being fifteen years old, binding so tight it hurt to breathe, searching the mirror desperately for a sign of my own face, not understanding how I could keep going in a body that was not mine, feeling so ugly it hurt to look at myself. I would wake up each morning from a dream where my body was mine, into a a body that was hostile and alien. I was terrified of the future that I knew lay in store for me (how much would the surgery cost? How many scars would it leave? How many people would abandon me when I told them that I needed it?). I was so frightened that I would never be found attractive, for who I really was, and the thought of being at home in my own skin seemed ridiculous.

Eleven years down the road – I wish I could tell my younger self that it gets better – only with courage, and only by struggling, but better, nonetheless. And admit that there is still a large part of myself that fears that I am unloveable – unattractive, unnatural, unconvincing. And it is this part, I think, that needs the pride, the confirmation, the sense of solidarity, that finding other trans people so attractive provides.

XX Boys, for example. {Edit – by most accounts the guy who runs this project has serious sexual assault/rape allegations he has yet to face up to. No support for him. But support for many of the people catalogued there}. Each and every guy in this project is beautiful, in so many ways – beautiful for his authenticity, his audacity, his sincerity – oh, yes, and general base hotness. And, maybe, I look at these guys and think ‘how wonderful you are’ – and hope that maybe the same is true of me. If I can think of all they’ve been through, and acknowledge how they’ve grown as human beings because of it – maybe not only can I do it for myself, but think that someone else might be able to do it for me.

Tranny chaser? Not so much. But deeply invested in the strength, determination and the beauty of the transgender experience?

Yes.

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§ 2 Responses to Can a person be a trans ‘tranny chaser’?

  • Jenny says:

    I think you might have missed one other key aspect.

    Understanding, with another trans person you know they might understand better, many of the things that go on. The day to day things that cause pain and hurt, you don’t need to explain as many whys.

    Well written and well said

  • LeeRaptor says:

    At first i wasn’t sure if i wrote this and forgot about it in a creepy dechavu sort of way. Totally relate.

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