Trans people make me jealous

Someone asked me:

How do you find joy in other trans journeys without becoming envious or sad about your own?

The answer? I don’t.

You might have expected me to weave a story full of love, empathy and vicarious joy at watching other people blossom into the people they were always meant to be.

But I don’t.

Ok that’s only half true. I didn’t. I used to be a very jealous person. I had to learn how to take joy in other people’s successes.

There’s a lot of talk about trans joy, and rightly so. It’s glorious to celebrate who we are, and who we’re becoming.

But you don’t really hear people talk about trans jealousy so much.

I briefly touched on the importance of trans visibility, and how role models can help trans people on their journey of self discovery.

But what I didn’t mention is the one of the downsides. Seeing thriving, happy trans people can feel exhausting, and sometimes even downright awful.

There, I said it.

Any of this ring a bell?

With social media oversaturating us, it’s getting harder not to be affected other people’s idyllically presented lives.

A familiar feeling

If you’re closeted, seeing trans people out can be frustrating. How come they get to be trans, but you have to keep your true self hidden?

How about if you’ve just come out, but you’ve lost your family, friends or partner in the process? Seeing people in photos, posing with their chosen families - accepting, loving smiles on their faces - it can be heartbreaking.

What if you’ve just started hormones, but you’re not seeing the changes you want? What if you can’t afford surgery, or you’re on a 4 year+ waiting list to get a first appointment?

Watching someone transform into the person you wish you were can be, well, bloody anger inducing. Doesn’t it feel like they’re just rubbing it in your face?

You’re a bad person

I think we have a tendency to try and suppress these feelings, labelling them as ‘bad’ or ‘undesirable’.

Only bad people get jealous, right? We get upset because our friends have something we don’t have. That’s mean.

We see other people achieving happiness, but secretly we want them to fail. Selfish. Bad. Wrong.

Except I don’t believe that’s entirely true, and I’ll tell you why.

Because envy and jealousy can be very helpful emotions.

Pleasure from pain

Look, I’m not saying it’s pleasant or always constructive to feel these things: jealousy, envy, or even schadenfreude. Yes I googled the spelling.

There’s a difference between feeling an unpleasant emotion and acting on it. It becomes a problem when we begin to sabotage others’ joy out of jealousy and anger.

It probably explains why so many trolls seem to love cutting people down for being happy. Take the media backlash against Sam Smith in Unholy as an example.

Seeing a fat, non-binary queer person ‘rubbing it in their faces’ (by which haters mean, existing joyfully) was too much to handle.

Sometimes I even feel weird jealousy towards my transmasc friends. It’s less about something I want, but more about something I didn’t have.

And that’s a sense of congruence and completeness as a man.

Seeing your transmasc friends take joy in the very traits you hate about yourself can be a bit frustrating, like ‘oh come on, having facial hair and a deep voice isn’t that great, get over it’ or ‘yes we perceive you gaining male privilege. RIP to mine’

I’m sure this dynamic cuts both ways. Like ‘boobs aren’t that great, stop swinging yours around all the time, we get it.’

I probably get salty now and again because I can’t get rid of my deep voice (without significant training or surgery) and I had to endue a lot of painful laser hair removal to get rid of my beard.

I’m also being talked over, disregarded and manslammed a hell of a lot more these days.

But really, despite the surface level stuff, I’m genuinely joyful to see my transmasc and enby pals thrive. Trans girls though, stop it will you.

Bad feels can be friend

I believe envy and jealousy tell us what we need.

Kinda hate your pal for loving their job? Maybe your jealousy is saying ‘get a job you actually enjoy, yours is unsatisfying’.

Think your queer AMAB pal looks ‘stupid’ or ‘gay’ in a dress? Maybe you should try one on yourself.

However, once our jealousy gets big and intense, I think we struggle to handle and understand it. We start self-deprecating and believing we’re somehow broken.

Like ‘Screw her! She’s gorgeous and happy and queer and thriving and I hate her! Aaaand feeling that makes me the devil incarnate.’

But if you saw someone eating a big old box of popcorn and felt jealous, wouldn’t you just go- ‘I really fancy some popcorn’ and then get yourself some? That’s all it is.

I lived with the jealousy monster

Like I said before, I used to be a really jealous person. Over loads of things.

I was jealous of successful musicians. Jealous of comedians. Jealous of anyone with more followers than me. Jealous of physically fit people. Jealous of people who wore tights. Jealous of pretty girls (normal straight boy stuff).

Or one that I personally felt the worst: I was obsessively jealous over my partner’s ex girlfriend.

One of my exes had been in a queer, ENM, kink positive relationship before me.

For actual years this past relationship of hers became a retroactive jealousy fixation. I had tunnel vision. I just couldn’t get it out of my head.

How many partners had she been with?

What was her ex’s name? I found out and then googled her relentlessly. I know. (I never did find her)

Was she good looking?

What kind of sex did they have?

What happened at the kink nights? I bet it was WILD.

Were they still in touch?

Was their queer relationship better than our straight one? God that sounds hot.

I felt jealousy, sadness and sickness to my stomach. And what was more confusing was this - why the hell was I jealous that my partner had dated a girl?

She’s an ex, she’s no threat to me, and we’re happy together right? I mean, we’re married for fuck sake!

We’re divorcing now but you get the point.

Unravelling the envy sweater

I don’t know why I pictured an envy sweater. It’s cosy being all wrapped up in it, but stifling at the same time. And itchy. I guess the analogy works?

These retroactive jealousy feelings make sense now, but at the time I was so confused.

What I realise, in hindsight, is that a couple of things were at play:

The jealousy I felt over their queer, kink positive and non-monogamous relationship was telling me ‘that’s the kind of relationship I want.’

Though, back then, I never would have wanted my partner to sleep with anyone else. No way.

But the thing is, that’s because I was also lacking the connection I needed in my relationship. I for sure had trust issues, and I don’t think you can be successfully non-monogamous without deeply trusting yourself, and your partner/s. Or at least working on it.

The envy I felt over the gay relationship? Well, that’s now making sense as a trans woman who’s attracted to women.

At the time, there was some deeper gender stuff going on that I had no way of knowing.

‘Oh a lesbian relationship sounds perfect, but I’d have to be a girl. HAHAHA’.

Ah shit.

And by the way, if you’re wanting to learn more about Ethical Non-Monogamy, my friend Rich runs an ENM book club in Brighton & Hove.

Back to gender envy

I can’t promise you’ll cure your gender envy, or your jealousy.

I still experience it, it’s a human emotion that we all feel.

Jealousy’s a bit of a bastard, but it’s also like that blunt friend who tells you exactly what they think.

You might not like what they say, but they’re probably telling the truth. And you’re always welcome to tell them to shut up if they’re being a bit too harsh.

Frustrating emotions around trans journeys aren’t easy, because many parts of transition are out of your control: access to affirming healthcare, your unique biology, what you want from transition, your community and support network.

Some things can never be changed through transitioning, and that can be tough to accept.

Like, my shoulders will always be so wide, my voice has already broken, and I can legally be female but even oestrogen can’t stop me telling dad jokes.

But once you start listening to what the uncomfortable emotion is telling you, you can begin to understand what you want and need.

And right now I’m jealous of coffee and toast.

With love and joy,

Lucie