What Do You Mean It Isn’t About Sex?

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A while ago, I mentioned to another trans person, in passing, that I did not medically transition for sexual reasons. As someone who was transitioning in large part to have sex in ways that matched her gender, she was kind of shocked: why would another woman go through all of this, if it wasn’t about sex?

First, let me say it’s perfectly legitimate to medically transition and undergo surgeries if that will make sex more congruous to your identity. Likewise, it’s fine to not want sex at all. But, because our culture is so focused on sexuality, a lot of people can’t imagine why someone would do this if it wasn’t for sex! Indeed, a lot of transphobes assume everything a trans person (and particularly trans women) does is about sex, even though, to channel my inner Dee Snider, sometimes it is only in the mind of the transphobes.

Is sex with the right body better? Of course, it is! But that’s not why I changed my body. For me, none of my reasons were sexual.

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So, why might someone transition, if it’s not about sex?

Nobody Can Take My Body Away

In transition, I claimed ownership of my body. It is mine now. No matter how much someone might disapprove of who I am or how I live my life, I’ll have this body until the day I die. Changing laws won’t change my body. People wishing I could just live as a gender non-conforming man can’t change my body. Nothing is going to bring my old genitals back. I wanted this permanence, this irreversibility. Irreversibility was the goal! Since I had surgery, my body is what it is regardless of the changing whims of politics. That’s important when your body is a political lightning rod. That doesn’t mean everyone will see it that way, but I do — and that’s ultimately what I need.

Every day that I wake up and sit down in my bath, I see a woman’s body. It’s not something that I put on or take off, it’s just there. And it’s there every day.

Other People’s Comfort

While I wish this reason didn’t exist, it does: it’s nice that other people are comfortable around my body now. People freak out if a woman has the wrong parts, which can result in violence. Now, I’m not saying that nobody might freak out with my presence (it’s not like I go around naked in front of random people) as strangers generally don’t have any idea what parts I have. Thus, they might be uncomfortable simply because they assume that I have still have my factory-installed parts, rather than the after-market modifications.

But, still, there are times when it is nice that people are more comfortable. I’m comfortable using, for instance, a gym locker room these days. I’m not worried about another woman seeing what genitals I have and suddenly getting angry or being scared to be in my presence. I’m also more comfortable swimming or otherwise wearing tight-fitting clothing now, since there is nothing I need to hide for the comfort of other people.

I’m (Slightly) Less Likely to be Seen as a Sex Criminal

In particular, people now are less likely to see me as sexual pervert or a potential rapist. I’m not saying people with typical female anatomy can’t rape (they can), but in the eyes of many people, it’s almost as if it is the penis detached from the person that commits sex crimes, independent of the rest of the body (indeed, this belief actually contributes to sex crime)! I’m also not saying that some transphobes don’t still look at every trans woman, regardless of anatomy, as a sex criminal, nor do I think trans women with a penis are likely to commit sex crimes (it turns out the rate of sex crimes among trans women is basically the same as the rate of sex crimes among women in general). While the reasons are rooted in ignorance, being less likely to be seen as a sex criminal is still a good thing!

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Incarceration

I’m generally a rule-follower, and don’t break many laws. But when you have the “wrong” parts, something like protesting an unjust law — which might have the possibility of a night in jail — was something I absolutely avoided. And, sadly, we know sometimes even innocent people are imprisoned. There are few things more terrifying to a trans woman than the idea that she could be locked up in a male prison, where guards and prisoners are transphobic and homophobic, and much of society sees prison rape as humorous (as an aside, check out Just Detention International if you’d like to see prison rape ended). And, pretty much always, a trans woman with a penis will be institutionalized in male institutions, with very few exceptions.

Indeed, beyond prison rape, trans people are killed when placed in men’s institutions. Being trans should not carry a sentence of rape or death when serving time.

Being a trans woman with a vagina doesn’t guarantee you’ll be imprisoned with other women (indeed, even cis women don’t have that guarantee, as Fiordaliza Pichardo, a cis woman, found out when she was assumed to be a trans woman by jail staff, and thus thrown into men’s jail). But it does improve the odds. [Edit since article was originally written: several USA states have explicitly codified law that trans women, regardless of surgical status, are to be housed as men, and trans men as women.]

Nor does being in a woman’s jail or prison guarantee safety. Women are frequently and routinely raped in women’s prisons, not by trans women as anti-trans campaigners claim, but most commonly by the people in charge of their safe incarceration. Now add transphobia to the mix, and you can see even in a woman’s prison, a trans person is at high risk. But it is certainly better than a male prison.

Other Institutions

Of course there are other institutions too. For instance, a trans woman might be fleeing an abusive partner or find herself homeless — and need to be placed in a shelter. Being in a typical men’s shelter is unsafe for any woman (indeed, it’s unsafe for many of the men, but even more so for women). Likewise, someone might be placed in a nursing home or psych ward (note I don’t generally believe these are good places for anyone). Having a vagina slightly decreases the chance I’ll be placed with men.

Leisure Activities

Related to the above, there were times when I declined invitations to do things I thought I would enjoy because it involved sharing accommodations. For me, something like sharing a tent with another woman on a camping trip or using a locker room at the gym would be uncomfortable for me, as I would be terrified about making someone else uncomfortable. The last thing I wanted to do is make another woman feel unsafe. I know that feeling, and I know how horrible it feels.

While I know trans women who successfully navigate those spaces without adding to anyone’s discomfort (by being extremely careful and discrete), I didn’t feel comfortable doing so. Again, this is a personal choice, not one that should be forced on other trans women. For me, I just wouldn’t be able to relax in spaces where I needed to be that on-guard.

I understand that even now, even with the socially-approved parts, my presence might make some women feel unsafe (as they may either have issues with trans women in general or may assume I have parts I don’t have), I’m not worried about people who have issues with trans people in general, and I know that I have the same parts as any other woman entitled to be there, so there is a limit to even how much I will entertain this bias in others. That said, I would like to see a world where trans women, regardless of surgeries they’ve had, are allowed into spaces for women, and where we provide the privacy by default that can make everyone — trans and cis both — feel comfortable.

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Clothing

While this is relatively trivial, I’ll admit it is nice to be able to wear whatever clothing I like these days, with the chance of blending in with other women when I want. Instead of shopping for clothes that hide my body, I can now simply shop for clothes that are appropriate for whatever activity I’m engaging in. I’m a pretty modest person, and don’t generally show off much of my body, but I’m glad to be able to wear leggings while exercising without worrying about my clothes either outing me or how to keep a painful tuck in place.

Creepy Guys

There is a subgroup of men who are highly attracted to trans women with factory parts, and who see us as nothing more than a means of sexual gratification for themselves (we have a word for these men: chasers). They definitely don’t see us as women or even as multi-dimensional humans who could be equal to them. While having surgery won’t stop random men who don’t know you’ve had bottom surgery from sending dick pictures or assuming you’re either selling sex or someone who would be thrilled to be asked to have sex with them, these men are almost never interested in a trans woman who had bottom surgery. It can be a useful anti-creep filter.

Travel

A trans woman with a penis faces discrimination when she travels, whether that’s scrutiny from TSA, border agents, or others. It’s nice to be able to walk through an airport body scanner without your body having any “anomaly” that needs to be investigated, typically via a relatively invasive pat-down. Yes, the TSA could fix things so that there is no pink or blue button the screeners are expected to press, but it is two decades since 9/11 (indeed, some of the screeners themselves likely weren’t even alive on 9/11), and we still have this issue. Indeed, even without a penis, the screener still might clock a trans woman and hit the blue button — causing her breasts to trigger a pat-down — but at least they aren’t parts that cause her dysphoria.

Medical Contexts

Some medical organizations won’t change your gender in their records without bottom surgery. While even those who do might still do awful things, having your records indicate you’re female reduces the amount of misgendering and mistreatment. Yes, I might occasionally be asked about pregnancy if they don’t read the rest of my record and see I’m trans, but at least I can have a discussion about my actual complaint with less misgendering.

I’m out to all of my medical providers, as there are times when my transgender history actually is relevant to medical care, although it is less often than the lay public — and even many doctors — think. But it is nice to not need to be out to literally every healthcare employee. The aide helping me shower or the person bringing me my food doesn’t need to know about my trans history to help me, even if a urologist or gynecologist might. Having a body that matches what the aide helping me shower expects makes the experience less awful.

Hormone Treatment

One of the life-changing treatments for trans people is hormone replacement therapy. Not all of us use hormones, but for those of us who do, it is important to our well-being. Without surgery, if I were to need to stop my hormone treatment (for instance, if a cancer was found that is estrogen-sensitive), testosterone would again become dominant, which would cause things like beard regrowth (a painful and expensive process to undo), changes in mental state, and changes in sexuality (for many people, testosterone can increase libido, which might not be desired). With surgery, I will never again be in a testosterone-dominant body. Likewise, a doctor who might not want to assist in transition may be more willing to write prescriptions to allow me to continue on estrogen, as it is unhealthy to have, long term, both low testosterone and low estrogen (long term, this might have impact on bone density).

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Death

If I am killed, there is less chance I’ll be reported in the press as “a man dressed in women’s clothes.” My death certificate will likely list me as a woman (although there is no guarantee or indeed even any standard on how sex is indicated on death certificates in most jurisdictions). An autopsy report will likely note my transgender history, but the entirety of my female identity won’t be completely erased.

Legal Records

While it is less common these days, some legal records require surgery to change someone’s gender marker. Having legal records and identification that match who I am is important to be treated as the person I am.

Legitimacy

In much of contemporary trans debate, an attempt is made to separate the “true transsexual” (a historical idea seemingly resurrected in modern debate, often expressed in different words while retaining the original idea) from “pretenders.” Some people think that there are a lot of people who either are or who want to pretend to be transgender to, basically, get a “get-out-of-jail-for-rape-free” card. This isn’t accurate, but people who buy into these types of categories and incorrect ideas will sometimes see someone who had bottom surgery as the “exception” to their rules that trans women should be treated as men. I’ve had several people say things like, “I know you aren’t faking it because you’ve had surgery.” While this is an ignorant statement (I use “ignorant” without judgement here), having “bottom-surgery privilege” is a thing.

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My Own Comfort

Honestly, though, the best reason — even if these other reasons are all factors — is our own comfort. If we want bottom surgery, that should be sufficient! I’m simply more comfortable having a body like most other women. While I admire those women who are comfortable without surgery (and there is nothing wrong with that!), I wasn’t. And I am comfortable now.

Caveats

For me, having surgery was the right choice. It isn’t for everyone. And, as you can see, a lot of the “pros” I listed for having surgery have less to do with my choices than with society’s biases. Society definitely applies pressure to seek bottom surgery if a trans woman wants to be treated as well as she can be (short of detransitioning). This is harmful and wrong. A trans woman who hasn’t had surgery is just as much of a woman as any other woman.

For me, I wouldn’t have underwent surgery if I didn’t want it for myself. I suspect most people who have surgery have similar feelings, although certainly, like anything in life, you can find people who have regrets or felt they were pushed into doing something that was a mistake. The reality is that most trans people who have surgery — more so than almost any non-trans surgery — are happy with their choice. We tend to be fairly thoughtful about our medical care, as ultimately it is our body.

But nobody who doesn’t want surgery should ever feel they need to get it. And when they do, we need to confront those who are holding back some aspect of womanhood from some women.