Thinking about @JohnCleese's transphobia.

Of course, it was heartbreaking to see a celebrity I grew up loving so blatantly mock and misrepresent trans people.

But today, I had a realization - and now, I'm no longer surprised. It makes sense.

(thread) https://twitter.com/JohnCleese/status/1330410630222897152

When I think back to my childhood, I don't remember knowing any trans people... but I remember a movie: "Out of Towners."

Specifically, I remember this scene where Steve Martin and Goldie Hawn catch @JohnCleese's character secretly dancing in drag.

In the scene after that, they blackmail him -- threatening to reveal his embarrassing secret.

For a couple decades, these two scenes stuck in my head --- so strongly, that I didn't even remember the name of the movie. I didn't remember what the movie was about. I simply remembered these two scenes.

I remember laughing at these scenes, which, of course, was the whole point. Trans people are funny, right? Trans people are weird. Trans people are embarrassing. Trans people deserve to be laughed at and mocked.

When I began to actively question my gender in 2018, at the ripe old age of 31, I couldn't stop thinking about these two scenes.

I couldn't stop thinking about @JohnCleese's character dancing in ladies' clothes, and Steve Martin's character blackmailing him for it.

I knew, by 2018, that I felt no connection with masculinity and that I felt a deep connection with femininity. It confused me, and it scared me.

I didn't know what I was.

But one thing I knew: I was not John Cleese's character in "Out of Towners."

I was not a man in a dress.

As I began to actively question my gender, at the ripe old age of 31, my model for "transgender woman" was John Cleese's character in "Out of Towners" -- a pathetic, lonely hotel manager secretly dancing in drag and being blackmailed for it because it's so embarrassing.

At the end of this scene, John Cleese's character says: "Can't a girl have some fun?"

He wasn't simply cross-dressing or performing in drag.

He was meant to be transgender.

And, as such, he was a laughing stock. A comedic stunt.

I couldn't accept that I might be transgender, because I'm not a laughing stock - and the laughing stock was the only model I had for transgender women.

What I didn't understand is that this is not what "transgender" means. It's a stereotype that completely misses the point.

I guess it doesn't surprise me that the actor who would portray trans women this way would actually believe the simplistic, inaccurate stereotypes himself.

What I didn't understand until much later – and what people like John Cleese don't understand – is that "transgender" is not the same as cross-dressing or drag.

What John Cleese and others seem to not understand is that being "transgender" isn't about laughing and joking around and having unbridled fun.

It's not a hobby. It's not a guilty pleasure. It's not a kink. It's not a fantasy.

But I didn't know that. I believed the stereotype.

When it first occurred to me that I might be transgender, I panicked. I was scared. I was upset. I was angry. I didn't want to be transgender. I really, really, really didn't want to be transgender.

The first thing I googled was: "What if I don't want to be transgender?"

And when I googled "what if I don't want to be transgender," what I found were a whole bunch of other trans women on forums writing about how they, too, didn't want to be transgender.

Everyone said some variation of this:

"I thought I could drink away those stupid thoughts of being a girl. Instead, I became an alcoholic, lost everything, attempted suicide, and 30 years later, I finally gave in and transitioned. Why didn't I just transition 30 years ago?????"

And when I read that, it really scared me.

The more I read, the more I realized:

Being transgender isn't a choice.

It's a biological reality, totally inescapable.

Drugs, alcohol, sex, pretending to be cis -- nothing can make a trans person not be transgender.

That scared me.

I began to realize that even if I continued to present entirely as a man, I would not be a man.

Even without the cross-dressing, even without the drag, even without the make-up, even without any of that -- I'm still a woman.

I'm still transgender.

What frustrates me the most about transphobia is that it's rooted in a fundamental misunderstanding of what it means to be transgender.

I can't tell you how many times some #GenderCritical person sneered at me, "wearing lipstick won't make you a woman!"

I mean... duh?

I'm a woman, even without the lipstick. Even without the dress. Even without any of that.

That's not what it means to be transgender.

Transgender isn't a costume. Transgender isn't a performance.

Transgender isn't a choice.

It's not a desire.

I NEVER WANTED TO BE TRANS.

In June 2019, I joined Twitter with a female name and FaceApped profile pic. Part of my goal was to meet other trans people, because I was so terrified to go to in-person support groups. I was so terrified that anyone would know, or even suspect, I'm trans.

I was so embarrassed.

I was so ashamed.

Twitter allowed me to see what other trans people are like without outing myself.

And what I discovered blew my mind.

First of all, THERE ARE SO MANY TRANS WOMEN.

Seriously...... how are there so many of us?

But most of all, what I learned from following so many trans women on Twitter was this:

The stereotype that @JohnCleese portrayed in "Out of Towners" is outrageously inaccurate.

I saw unfiltered photos of trans women who looked like cisgender women.

It blew my mind that someone who was born with a penis could look so incredibly feminine -- especially in photos without any make-up.

I learned, for the first time, about hormones. I had no idea how much hormones do to the body. And I had no idea – not even an inkling of an inkling of an inkling – how drastically hormone replacement therapy could change a person's body.

On Twitter, I discovered trans women who don't like drag, who aren't obsessed with sex, and in some cases who don't even like wearing make-up.

I met trans women on Twitter who, to my surprise, didn't feel much connection with feminine gender stereotypes at all... despite calling themselves women, they didn't dress like women, or act like women.

I was shocked. I thought "trans" meant "a man pretending to be a woman."

By this point in time, my gender was all I could think about. Literally, every single day, nearly the entire day, I was nearly constantly thinking about my gender.

I couldn't get it out of my head.

I was not the stereotypical "silly man in a dress and high-heels, dancing around in secret to 'Bad Girls'" that I'd learned from actors like John Cleese to believe is actually what "transgender means."

And I was starting to realize that, in fact, this *isn't* what trans means.

As it happens, I'm a very feminine woman. I like wearing make-up. I like wearing dresses. I like my long, curly hair.

But that's not what makes me a woman.

What really blew my mind, more than anything else, was witnessing my body's reaction to hormone replacement therapy.

After a year of this therapy, I have almost no testosterone left in my body, and my estrogen levels are on par with average cisgender women.

One would think that such a drastic flip in hormone balances would be catastrophic on my body.

Exactly the opposite happened.

My years-long depression disappeared almost overnight.

I felt so much better, emotionally and physically, than I had in decades.

This, more than anything else, convinced me of the biological reality of being transgender.

For whatever reason that scientists have yet to understand, my body needs primarily estrogen, and testosterone is like poison for me.

And now my body is thriving.

The stereotypes focus entirely on behavior: cross-dressing; drag; dancing; making kissy faces; being flamboyant; etc.

They completely ignore the biological components, such as hormones.

They also ignore the reality of bathroom anxiety, which I've written about elsewhere. https://twitter.com/ShuliElisheva/status/1319655292087447560

This thread is getting epically long, so I'll stop.

There is so much more to say.

But I guess what I'm trying to say is this:

It doesn't surprise me that an actor like John Cleese, who has totally misrepresented trans women in movies, would also misrepresent them on Twitter.

It doesn't surprise me that an actor like John Cleese, who has milked the stereotypes for all their worth in movies would actually believe those stereotypes himself.

It's sad. And really frustrating.

But... not surprising.