In recent years, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend within our own community, one that cuts deeper than the attacks we face from gender criticals, TERFs, or conservative commentators. Some self-described “transsexual” influencers, often older transitioners who have secured their surgeries and settled into lives of passing privilege, have begun turning their backs on the rest of us.
Instead of lifting up their siblings who are still fighting tooth and nail for access to healthcare, housing, and basic dignity, they’ve started podcasts, YouTube channels, and social media campaigns where they throw “problematic” trans and non-binary people under the bus. Worse, they use the exact same rhetoric we hear from anti-trans activists: that some of us are “too loud,” “too queer,” or “too non-conforming.”
This article is not an attack on people who transitioned early or those who live in heterosexual relationships with men. Everyone deserves to live authentically. But it becomes a problem when those who’ve reached their personal finish line try to shut the door behind them, pretending their struggles are over, and that their path should be the only valid one.
This isn’t community. This is betrayal.
The “Pick Me” Politics of Passing
For some, “success” in transition is measured by assimilation: stealth, surgery, and silence. Once they pass in everyday life, once they have the privilege of being treated as cis by strangers, they pivot from wanting solidarity to seeking distance. Suddenly, they’re not part of “us.” They’re part of “them,” and they’ll make sure the world knows it.
That’s where the “pick me” politics begin. These influencers frame themselves as the “good” trans people, the ones the media should listen to, while painting everyone else as reckless, embarrassing, or illegitimate. They echo the lines of conservative commentators:
- “I transitioned the right way. Why can’t these kids just wait like I did?”
- “Non-binary identities are confusing the public and making it harder for us real transsexuals.”
- “Gender-affirming care shouldn’t be so accessible; it needs strict gatekeeping.”
If those sound like the talking points of TERFs or right-wing pundits, that’s because they are.
Echoing the Language of Our Oppressors
It’s chilling to watch some of these voices recycle the very arguments used to oppress us:
- Gatekeeping: Suggesting only “true” trans people deserve access to hormones or surgery.
- Pathologizing: Calling gender diversity a trend or mental illness.
- Respectability politics: Demanding we conform to rigid norms of femininity or masculinity to “earn” respect.
- Erasure: Dismissing non-binary, genderqueer, or genderfluid identities as invalid.
When our own people adopt these frameworks, they do the work of our enemies for them. They hand ammunition to lawmakers who want to restrict our rights. They reinforce stigma that makes it harder for the rest of us to survive.
Privilege in Disguise
Let’s be honest: many of the people pulling up the ladder are speaking from a place of privilege. They transitioned at a time when gatekeeping forced them into conformity, and now they believe their suffering was a rite of passage rather than systemic cruelty. They have the resources, connections, or sheer luck that allowed them to afford surgeries, pass socially, or live in safer environments.
But not everyone gets those opportunities.
I’ll be real with you. I would love to have had the surgeries some of these women boast about. I dream of the day when my body fully reflects who I am. But right now, I’m barely keeping my rent paid and food on my table while also covering the cost of HRT. Passing privilege is not something I’ve been handed, and I work in an industry that isn’t exactly welcoming to transgender people. I don’t have the safety net of wealth or a partner who can carry me financially.
Does that make me less valid? Less worthy? According to some of these influencers, yes. And that’s the problem.
Not Everyone Has the Same Transition
Transition is not one-size-fits-all. Some people transition socially without medical intervention. Some pursue HRT but not surgery. Some pursue surgeries selectively. Some can’t afford anything beyond name changes and clothing. Some choose no medical transition at all.
And yet, every one of these paths is valid. Our identities are not defined by what’s in our bank accounts, what surgeries we’ve had, or how well we blend into cisnormative society.
When influencers insist that only one version of transition is “real,” they erase the reality of thousands of trans people who are just trying to survive. They create hierarchies of worthiness that harm the most vulnerable among us: youth, non-binary people, disabled trans folks, and those living in poverty.
The Cost of Throwing Others to the Wolves
This betrayal doesn’t just harm feelings. It has tangible consequences. When high-profile trans voices parrot anti-trans rhetoric, lawmakers and journalists seize on it as validation. They say, “See? Even the trans community agrees!”
This fuels restrictive healthcare bills, bathroom bans, and insurance exclusions. It emboldens TERFs who argue that trans rights are a danger to women. It divides us at the exact moment when unity is most crucial.
Worse, it isolates young and marginalized trans people, who look to our community for support but instead see leaders shaming and discarding them.
Why They’re Wrong
At its core, the argument of ladder-pullers boils down to this: “I made it through, so you should too. And if you can’t, maybe you’re not really trans.”
That logic is poisonous. Survival does not equal legitimacy. Just because one person clawed their way through an unjust system doesn’t mean the system is fine. And just because someone conforms to binary norms doesn’t mean they’re more deserving of rights or respect.
Transition is not about replicating someone else’s journey. It’s about aligning your body and life with your truth, however that looks for you.
A Reminder of Solidarity
Community is about solidarity, not assimilation. It’s about fighting for healthcare access for those who need it, whether that’s puberty blockers for youth, HRT for adults, or surgeries for those who want them. It’s about protecting non-binary and gender-nonconforming siblings who face heightened violence and erasure.
We don’t get free by pushing others down. We get free by lifting each other up.
What Needs to Change
If you’re someone with privilege in this community, whether surgical, financial, or social, you have a responsibility. Not to shame those without it, but to use your platform to fight for them. That means:
- Amplifying voices of trans and non-binary people without passing privilege.
- Challenging media narratives that pit “good trans people” against “bad ones.”
- Rejecting gatekeeping and affirming that transition is valid in all its forms.
- Advocating for healthcare equity, recognizing that affordability is a barrier for many.
My Perspective: Living Without Privilege
I’ll admit it, this topic is personal. As a trans woman in my fifties, I’ve seen the evolution of our community, and I’ve watched how narratives shift with privilege.
I would give anything to have had bottom surgery or facial feminization when I was younger. But I’ve had to make hard choices: rent or medical bills, food or surgery savings. Passing privilege doesn’t protect me when I walk into a job interview, or when I’m clocked at the gym.
I don’t have the luxury of pretending my struggle is over. And I know I’m not alone.
That’s why it stings when others in our community act as though their personal success story should be the template for everyone else. It dismisses the daily battles of those of us still clawing our way toward safety and authenticity.
The Bottom Line
At the end of the day, the goal of transition is not to create a hierarchy where those at the top look down on those still climbing. The goal is liberation for all of us.
We need to reject the idea that there’s one “correct” way to be trans. We need to challenge influencers who align with our enemies. And we need to hold each other accountable to solidarity, even when it’s messy, even when it’s hard.
Because if we don’t, the wolves aren’t just waiting outside. They’re already at the door.
Let’s build ladders that reach higher, not burn the ones behind us.
