An interesting interpretation of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Your Type,” where it reads the song as being about a trans woman who’s in love with her best friend but she will never say anything because she knows that her friend isn’t into trans girls.
“I’m not the type of girl for you
and I’m not going to pretendI’m the type of girl you want more than a friend”is the kind of line that speaks directly to the fear every trans girl has while attempting dating, especially if she’s stealth — that disclosure will lead to an immediate lack of interest, that no one could be into us for our true selves, that the only people who will ever “love” us are chasers or clients….
Many trans girls have felt the pain of “I’m not the type of girl for you” when attempting to date, whatever the other person’s gender. Conversations abound, especially in queer community, about whether it’s problematic to “not be attracted to” trans girls. It seems like we all have stories about being rejected upon disclosure, or never even being considered if we don’t “pass.””
I think the vast majority of trans people who transition decide the sacrifices (or potential sacrifices) involved. A friend of mine decided she was willing to sacrifice being an up and coming actor, if she could live her life successfully as a woman.*
In my case, it was accepting that I might never date again.
Partly it’s simply statistics. While men are fun to play with, and I wouldn’t rule out a possible relationship with one, I’m emotionally attracted to women. So that automatically narrows the dating pool to about 5 percent of the population. Then looking at the subset of lesbian/bi women willing — let alone interested — in dating a trans woman and the pool gets very narrow indeed. (It’s one reason it’s not uncommon for trans women to be in relationships with other trans women.)
Partly it’s a similar problem that LGB folks face when they see someone of the same sex that they’re attracted to (outside of queer spaces) — because odds are that they’re heterosexual and you don’t know how they’ll react. As the author says:
“All trans girls have rules when it comes to dating. Some of us never disclose until we absolutely have to, some of us are super “out.” I almost never hit on anyone or express romantic interest because I’m tired of being disappointed, and am afraid of a negative reaction. We always have to be careful and follow the rules, because you never know what will happen when you don’t — the reaction could be harsh, even violent.”
Partly it’s being a femme, and facing the problem many femmes face in lesbian spaces, where we’re ignored because people assume we’re straight women crashing the party.
Partly it’s me having to get over the feeling like I’m seen as “damaged goods.” Being the trans woman that chasers want to fuck — but not be seen with outside the motel room. Being trans, being a trans woman who don’t always “pass,”** being fat, being a women of a certain age. It’s hard not to internalize at least some of the negativity society expresses toward each. As a wise friend said, it’s hard to swim in a sea of poison and not swallow some.
Partly it’s been not having the time or spoons to be in a relationship, to deal with rejection — whether it’s because I’m trans, or for other reasons.
Despite all that, I still yearn for that feeling of being loved, of being desired. I’d like to feel that there’s *someone* (or someones) out there for me. It may be a long journey to find them, but it’s time to take that first step come what may.
* I’m happy to report that years later she’s started acting again and recently earned accolades for her co-starring role in her first big screen debut, in a movie that won a best in category award at the LA Film Festival.
** “Passing” is a term I hate — I much prefer blending — but I’m using it here because it’s used in the article, and because “passing privilege” has a long and history important history as a sociological concept.