By Violet Thompson

When people find out that IÔÇÖm transgender, the first question IÔÇÖm usually always asked is, ÔÇ£so, are you going to do the surgery?ÔÇØ It doesnÔÇÖt matter if itÔÇÖs someone IÔÇÖve known for a long time, or a complete stranger ÔÇô IÔÇÖm usually always asked about my genitals. It doesnÔÇÖt matter if itÔÇÖs in a public space, which makes the whole affair quite embarrassing, or via text. My genitals, and what I intend to do with them, is the only way in which most non-trans people can comprehend transgender identities and experiences, and gender as a whole. HereÔÇÖs the thing ÔÇô I have no idea what my transition journey will involve. Which makes the whole idea of validating my experiences a complicated and difficult matter.

I donÔÇÖt blame cisgender people for viewing transgender individuals in such a binary way. ItÔÇÖs the only way in which transgender experiences are discussed within the mainstream media, on the rare occasion that transgender individuals are represented at all. Simple narratives of ÔÇ£comes out as a trans man/woman, immediately transitions, is happyÔÇØ fulfil a simplistic, palatable story for mass audiences, but are generally unrepresentative and invalidating. Differences to these simplistic binaries are generally not represented, or are often deemed invalid. Identities which are non-binary or fluid, for example, are barely represented. Transgender men who donÔÇÖt conform to stereotypes of masculinity, or transgender women who donÔÇÖt embrace feminine stereotypes, are often rejected as not ÔÇ£trans enoughÔÇØ. Although normative representations are often celebrated by mass audiences, theyÔÇÖre often wholly unrealistic. And thatÔÇÖs where issues of validation arise.

The expectations of transgender people to act, dress, transition and speak in a certain way only serves the idea that thereÔÇÖs only one way to be trans. Which is ridiculous. WeÔÇÖre beautiful, diverse, young and old, with wonderfully subjective experiences and objectives, all of which are valid. Yet, transgender people are judged based on how well they adhere to certain norms of what cisgender people assume of them. Believing in your identity isnÔÇÖt enough, you need to prove it to cis people. You need to fit into two binary options ÔÇô trans man, and trans woman. You then need to choose between she/her or he/him pronouns, come out to your parents, buy some clothes, and book an appointment for your surgery. Anything less than that, be it not knowing what you want to do, but knowing youÔÇÖre trans, or not fitting into a binary frame of normative identities, simply means youÔÇÖre not valid. ThereÔÇÖs no point in trying to explain it, because youÔÇÖll be written off by the cis masses. Which is extraordinarily problematic.

Again, I get it. Transgender individuals, voices and experiences are extraordinarily underrepresented. WeÔÇÖre rarely represented, and when we are, itÔÇÖs often accompanied by ridicule, demonisation and harmful stereotypes, a reliance on the ÔÇ£transition narrativeÔÇØ, or, transgender characters are played by cisgender actors, which simply fulfils the narrative that transgender women are drag queens. Misrepresentation, and underrepresentation, has devastating real-world consequences. Transgender individuals are disproportionately at risk of violence or murder, with many of these cases often going unreported, or unpunished. In the United States, the ÔÇ£trans panicÔÇØ defence, where those who have committed acts of violence, or even murdered transgender individuals argue that they simply ÔÇ£panickedÔÇØ upon realising their victim was transgender during sexual acts, has only been outlawed in three states. Transgender children, teenagers and young people are disproportionately at risk of bullying, mental health issues and suicide. So, the notion that transgender people complain too much about media representations, or that this isnÔÇÖt an issue, is an absolute fantasy.

Invalidation isnÔÇÖt just an issue when it comes to how trans people are viewed, but also, in how trans people view themselves. IÔÇÖm at a point where IÔÇÖm comfortably ÔÇ£outÔÇØ at university, but not to my parents, and I havenÔÇÖt started any kind of medical transition. And because I havenÔÇÖt done that yet, and because I donÔÇÖt look particularly feminine, I often feel incredibly invalidated. IÔÇÖm always holding myself to certain standards of ÔÇ£what trans looks likeÔÇØ, or even, what trans feels like. If IÔÇÖm not constantly feeling dysphoric, then I tell myself IÔÇÖm not trans. If for a couple of days I donÔÇÖt shave, and I donÔÇÖt die over it, I tell myself IÔÇÖm not trans. If I decide that I have to take some things slowly, like wanting to experiment with makeup and clothes, as opposed to other people who have fully transitioned years before me, then I tell myself IÔÇÖm not trans. Mainstream conceptions of transgender experiences contribute to this internal questioning and prejudice, which in turn, can lead to issues such as mental health problems and suicide.

Transgender people and their experiences are valid, but the entire spectrum of trans experiences and identities must be acknowledged too. Of course, itÔÇÖs impossible to create a representation which is wholly representative, but an acknowledgement of the subjective nature of transgender experiences is vital. Importantly, this is also possible. Ryan MurphyÔÇÖs latest show Pose features transgender actors playing transgender characters, as well as portraying stories which go beyond the ÔÇ£transition narrativeÔÇØ. Transgender subjectivities are an incredible thing ÔÇô the diversity among identities and experiences are all valid, yet this is often not represented within mainstream contexts. We must stop judging trans people based on what makes the most sense to cis people, because we can fight the epidemic of violence against transgender people, and suicides. However, we must educate cisgender audiences on trans subjectivities, while also validating them. Trans is beautiful, and I think we need to remind people of that sometimes.