Why I'm trans ... and a feminist
In the light of this week's row between two prominent feminists and the trans community, we asked four trans writers to reflect on what feminism means to them
Paris Lees, Jane Fae, CL Minou, and Stuart Crawford
guardian.co.uk, Friday 18 January 2013 13.05 EST
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2013/jan/18/trans-feminist-panelThere were plenty of feminists on TV in the early 90s, and I always sided with these tough ladies, the ones that didn't see men as their superiors. Raised by my mum, my gran and my aunty and bullied by a father I despised, child-me was certain that women couldn't be the inferior gender. Teenage me wondered why there even have to be an inferior gender – or, in fact, gender at all. Couldn't we all just do our own thing and be nice to each other? At college, most people thought feminist meant "man-hater". This excluded men from feminism, including me, because, at the time, I looked like a boy.
It was a figurative kick in the teeth being born male – but when I was younger, I also got actual kicks in the face for "acting girly". Feminists have long fought to protect women from violence and I wish more of those with big platforms would discuss the very real abuse trans people suffer, often daily.
Early into my transition, I read Germaine Greer's The Whole Woman. It contained polemics about trans women in female toilets; suggesting we were men pretending to be women, trying to invade women's spaces. It's good to read authors one disagrees with. Greer caused me to question my identity, and form a more complex one. She was right: I am not a woman in the way my mother is; I haven't experienced female childhood; I don't menstruate. I won't give birth. Yes, I have no idea what it feels like to be another woman – but nor do I know what it feels like to be another man. How can anyone know what it feels like to be anyone but themselves? Strangely, thanks to Greer, I now know that I am happiest as me.
