I was beaten by a transphobe.

Today is October 11th, 2019. It’s National Coming Out Day.

There is no pride without blood, and no freedom without bruises and broken bones to show for it.

Two months ago, on August 7th, 2019 I was beaten by a transphobe at a friend’s wedding. I was the maid of honor. Since then I have been in and out of work, finally going on short-term disability when I was diagnosed with PTSD a month later.

In some part of me, I knew this could happen. Being trans, I have been verbally harassed, I have had objects thrown at me from cars, I’ve had people follow me on roads where I had to duck into buildings and alleyways to hide. I’ve been groped and grabbed by men, and I’ve even been raped.

But never has someone raised a fist to me; not because I’m trans. I’ve been beaten by step parents for being queer, I was beaten up by bullies growing up–but no one has ever tried to punish me for daring to exist in the same space as them. And now, after the attack, I know that I was lulled into a partial sense of safety since my surgeries, since I’m lucky enough to pass now.

It is hard to lie to yourself about safety when you know the feel of knuckles bouncing on the bone of your face. It’s hard to pretend that you can function when you know how easy it is for someone to break the barrier of personal space and inflict harm on you, just because you’re there. I said no words to this man before the attack. Not a single one the entire wedding, and still, he somehow knew and went after me. All because I dared get involved when he and his wife tried to drive off with three kids in the car, drunk out of their minds. Because I stood with others at the wedding trying to get them out of the car after they drove into the babysitter’s vehicle, and almost backed into a tree.

It’s hard to see value in yourself when you hear on repeat “I know you’re a fucking man” over and over again in your head because the man peppered his blows with it. It’s hard not to cry in the bathroom at work because you can’t think of anything else except those words, when all you can taste is bile rushing up your throat as if you could possibly purge the memory like you can purge your stomach.

It is National Coming Out Day. A day when those who can state to the world who they are. Not all of who they are–but a small part of it. A small part of their experience as living, valid human beings that disproportionately affects EVERY single thing they do because people will not allow them to just live.

In many ways, living in fear means hiding parts of who I am. There are times I have to hide it because things like the attack can happen. But right now, know this.

I am black. I am trans. I am bisexual. I am a woman. I am a gamer. I’m a writer and storyteller. I’m a model. I’m an artist. I’m a thousand fucking things, and none of them, absolutely none of them, mean that I should get my ass beat, and fuck EVERY single one of you who can’t accept that.

I refuse to cower in fear because of fists, guns, or any fucking thing you throw at me, and I will stand proud as every one of you backwards thinking fools burns into ash in the annals of history.

And believe me. You will burn.



Welcome back to The Broke-Ass Transwoman. Updates will resume shortly, as will Patreon rewards.
Thank you for your patience. May we all celebrate the flames of revolution.

Do Non-Binary People Delegitimize Binary Transfolk?

Alright, y’all. It’s time to address an internal problem we have in the trans community—I spend a lot of time trying to communicate our issues to cis people, or instructing them on how to interact with us. That doesn’t mean that all of us in the trans community are perfect.

Far from it, actually.

You see, while the trans community is one of, if not the most maligned minority in the world, we still suffer from racism, elitism, and gatekeeping just like any other group. Unfortunately, just because we are subject to discrimination based on, you know, simply existing, that does not mean that many of us try to understand other subdivisions both within and outside the trans umbrella.

While I can and will go into the issues of racism in the trans community (white trans people be on the lookout for that post because it will be brutal), that will come later. For now, I’m going to focus on a different question: whether or not non-binary people negate the claims of binary trans people.

Now, I am a binary trans woman—that means that I identify as one of the binary genders (male or female), which in my case is female. Basically, if transpeople were flavors, I’d be boring ass vanilla. However, there are many people under the scope of “transgender” who might identify as both, or neither. For the purposes of this post, we’re going to call this group non-binary for simplicity’s sake, but people along this part of the gender spectrum do use a number of different labels, such as genderqueer, agender, or gender fluid.

I will say this—this issue lies on both sides of the fight. There are binary trans people who say that non-binary trans people make it more difficult for people to believe that we’re real human beings worthy of respect. These same people say that it is hard enough to make people believe that you can cross gender lines in one way, never mind turn it into a goddamn rotary of gender fuckery.

On the non-binary side, there are folks who will preach that the binary is flawed, and that gender in and of itself is a problem as we traditionally understand it. These folks will often say that binary trans people are limiting themselves based on traditional gender roles, and that it is improper or even problematic to do so.

To both of these groups, I have something to say. Now, you may want to get out some paper, because this will be terribly complicated. Now, come closer. Closer.

You close enough now? Paying attention? Good.

You’re all full of shit.

Gay gasp! Did I just say that? Oh, I think I did, didn’t I? Perhaps I’ll say it again–you’re all full of shit! How thrilling!

Let me break down this down for you in blatant terms. Binary trans folk—non-binary people do not make your lives harder. If anything, they help further an understanding of how complicated gender is. Imagine gender as a room in a house. On one wall “Male” is written, and on the other, “Female”, and you stand on one side, and move to the other, and are happy as fuck to do so.

Just because you went from one side of the room to the other DOESN’T mean that there isn’t a whole space to explore in between, with furniture and windows and carpeting and a whole bunch of other shit. Non-binary people can sit on that furniture. Hell, they may not even be in the house. They’re on the goddamn porch. On the lawn. Just because all you know are the walls of the room, doesn’t mean they have to join you there.

Now, before you go jumping for joy, non-binary folks, I have words for you too. Binary trans folk do not make it so that your gender or lack thereof isn’t legit either. We are allowed to go and stand at that wall if that’s where we need to be. While I understand that to you it may read that we’re reinforcing gender stereotypes, our very existence rejects them, just like yours. Also, add in the fact that many of us experience discomfort because of our genitals not being the right way, it becomes a bit more complicated than just a label alone.

As far as the binary being poisonous—I agree wholeheartedly. There are many people in the non-binary community who preach for a destruction of the binary. That’s fair—the binary understanding we have of gender is toxic for everyone, even for cis people. Forcing someone into a role because of what parts their doctor says they have is a problem on many fronts.

However, eliminating the binary does not and will not change how binary trans people identify. That is also fine. Destruction of binary gender roles does not need to come at the cost of how someone has come to identify themselves—gender roles can disappear, but we will still have folks who use binary pronouns or that use gender neutral ones.

More than that—we’re all fucking trans, and we should not be telling each other how we can or cannot identify. That sort of gatekeeping is bullshit, and we already have enough of that from TERFs and Trump Supporters.

So yes, call for the destruction of toxic gender roles. Express yourselves wherever on the spectrum you fall. Explore the room–go from one wall to another, to the middle, to the porch, come back–figure out where it is you want to be. Use whatever terms you need to define this amorphous existence of life we all share. But do not use who you are to define how other people have to exist. Your journey is yours and yours alone—and everyone else has a different path to take.


“You’re coming out AGAIN!?”–Figuring out Gender and Sexuality

I have had to come out multiple times in my life. When I was thirteen, I came out to my mother as gay, and cried my goddamn head off doing it. When I was 19, I came out as androgynous, and started to dress feminine, wearing skirts and heels and heavy (like REAL heavy) makeup. When I was 23, I came out as a transwoman, and I thought I was straight.

Haha, nope. I’m bisexual. Hella bisexual. Painfully bisexual. A disaster bi if there ever was one.

Gender and sexuality, for all that they are different, have something in common–they’re both difficult to interpret, and can take time and exploration to figure them out. One of the hard parts about language is that we have to use words to define things–this gives a rigid outline when we say “we are this thing”. It implies a level of permanence. When someone says “I am gay”, the understanding, generally, is that this person is gay, and shall forever remain that way. When in reality, it’s much more like the “‘til death do us part” clause in a marriage–you should probably see it as permanent, and know that it might still change.

As often as some people stumble right into the identity they’re meant to have, others have a rougher path to take. Some of us find something that feels right at the time, only to realize it doesn’t fit. Even more of us figure out that these aspects of ourselves, our gender or our sexuality, have changed–and what was actually right at one time is completely wrong a few years later.

If you had told me at 16 if I was anything but a gay man, I would have laughed at you, hard. Even if I had weird feelings about my body and dysphoria for days, I resisted the idea that I was anything but the label I had given myself, because that rigidity of a label works both ways. It defines who you are to other people, but also for yourself, and often if you break with that label in any way, not only do others vilify you for it, but you confuse the hell out of yourself.

You see, “coming out”, regardless of what you’re coming out as, gives a name for what you are in someone’s head. And people will stick to that defined box for you–checking a mark next to “gay” or “non-binary” or “lesbian”. Then, if you do something that breaks with that box, you get the following:

“I thought you were gay?”

“You’re not really a lesbian–I saw you make out with Billy three months ago.”

“Last year you were gay, this year you were bi, and now you’re non-binary? You just want to be the most special snowflake, don’t you?”

“Could you just like, pick one thing and stick with it? You change labels like I change underwear.”

On the one hand, this is a little understandable. A little. Humans hate change we aren’t ready for–being surprised with someone’s (seemingly) sudden statement that they are different than who you thought they were can conflict with your world view. On the other…it costs zero dollars to respect people for who they are, even if they’ve just figured it out.

Each time I came out, I had people attack me for saying I wasn’t what I said I was. Even if what I defined myself as wasn’t right in the end, I was still well within my right to explore and try to find my real self, and it was not easy. Honestly, it was hard enough to come out of one closet door just to realize that I had to open another goddamn one–it was like closetception. There’s no reason to make that harder on someone than it already is.

You see, both gender and sexuality (which again, are different things) exist on a spectrum, and where you fall on that spectrum can change. Exploring either and trying to find the right fit does not make you less of a person–in fact, it makes you more of one. People struggle to find themselves, anyone who ever had to pick a profession or a college major or hell a goddamn hairstyle knows that, and you are not lesser for struggling or continuing to search for what feels more you.

If you think you’re a lesbian, but it turns out you’re bisexual? Great! If you’re cis and you start exploring gender just to find out that you are actually cis? Wonderful. You thought you were bisexual just to realize that no, you really, really, really just like girls? Stupendous!

In fact, the more people that try to search out and find themselves either through their gender expression or their sexual identity, the more it normalizes that people can do that. That just because you ultimately find out you’re one way or another, it’s healthy to look at the entire spectrum of human experience and find out if, maybe, you’re another shade on the rainbow than you thought you were.

This sort of experience also breeds understanding for those of us who are somewhere on that spectrum that isn’t considered “the norm”, because people realize that yes, you can be trans. Yes, you can be gay. Yes, you can be pansexual. You can be a number of things, and trying to figure out who you are is okay.

So next time you have a friend that tries to change that little checkmark you have next to whatever category you’ve filed them under? Don’t berate them. Get some white out and change it–and maybe understand that you should mark it with pencil, not with pen.


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Q&A: Part 1

Long time no see, y’all.

Welcome back to the Broke-Ass Transwoman. Now that I’ve crawled out of the shitpile that is March, I’m ready to get back into writing articles and posts, and generally fulfilling the giant me shaped hole in your life.

In all seriousness, thank you for your patience. March was an incredibly difficult month for me–partially due to adjusting to hormones again, since I was off them for a period of time due to insurance reasons.

It also pains me to say that the update schedule is now…pretty much whenever I can or am able to. I’m not able to keep up the pace I’ve set for myself, and since this is not a full-time gig, I need to be realistic for what I can get done.

Anyway, all that said–if you follow me on Facebook, you’ll know that I’m doing a Q&A this week! People submitted questions through a Google Doc you can find here:


I’ve already gotten a number of great questions, so this will be more than one post, though it is unlikely to be the next one, as I do want to get back into writing the core content for this blog. Also, a number of these questions will require more focus than JUST being in a questions and answers post, and will likely have to have their own post to address it.

Let’s get started!

Question 1: I am thinking of trying out new pronouns but I’m scared to ask others. I fear that I just want attention and I’m just a greedy cis and not really queer in any way. How can I see if new pronouns feel good for me? How did you go about asking others to use correct pronouns?

Ah, this is difficult. I understand your trepidation–people often make demands that anything we label ourselves as has to be some permanent fixture that is immovable and can absolutely never be changed.

Which, quite frankly, is absolute bullshit.

You have every right to try out new pronouns. You have every right to try and seek out whatever identity that feels right, and you are allowed to struggle with figuring out which terminology, if any, is right or not. This is a personal exploration of who you are and your personal need to be a complete and whole person.

To put it simple: Anyone who tells you you can’t try new pronouns, or gives you shit because another identity fits you better than a previous one is an asshole. Period. You are not in the wrong.

As far as how I went about asking people to use my pronouns–I have to be honest, a lot of my friends were tripping up and calling me “she” long before I admitted to anyone I was trans. I, like you, had a rough time finding and figuring out my identity, and I was adamant for a long time that I wasn’t trans. I just wanted to wear makeup and skirts, that didn’t MAKE me a girl–and to be fair, I was right. What made me a girl was that I was one, even if I struggled to figure it out.

As for those that hadn’t started tripping up, I just asked them to use the right pronouns. If they refused to, I cut them off, including my own mother for a long time. That won’t work for everyone, and to a degree you do need to exercise some patience while people adjust to your new pronouns, but if they outright refuse, they’re in the wrong.

I promise, there is a more detailed post on finding your identity and pronouns, and how people can try to police identity coming soon. In fact, it’s been mostly written for a month, and I need to finish it.

Question 2: What are the most obnoxious things cis parents of trans kids say, and how does this impact their kids?

Oh, lord. Are you trying to get me swarmed by angry parents? Because that’s what’s going to happen.

I’m kidding. Mostly. Being a parent is hard in general, especially when their child is going through something they may not understand. The most obnoxious thing that a parent can do is to not let their child explore their identity. Childhood is a malleable thing–children are constantly seeking to figure out who they are, what they like, and who they want to be. Even the most cis person can go through periods where they question who they are, and how they want to present themselves–just because your little boy wants to wear dresses doesn’t mean he’s going to end up gay or trans or whatever. If they are those things, they will be regardless of that, so let them explore.

Other than that, some of the things parents say involve repeating things they have heard about trans people from cis people–either from their church officials or even from their doctors. Unfortunately, stigma against trans people is so strong you can’t always accept the words of medical professionals, even though you should be able to.

Question 3: Tips for dressing fabulously on a tight budget.

So, I’m shit at this, but Clarissa Kent, our guest-writing succubus friend, has some things planned for you. Stay tuned. 😉

Question 4: What advice do you have for cisgendered fiction writers who wish to write transgender characters?

So this question was asked more than once, and though I could answer here, I have a lot of thoughts on the matter, and I think it needs to be a separate blog entry. For reference, I do write fiction–in fact, I’ve written a lot more fiction in my life than anything like the articles here, so I have T H O U G H T S on this.

Like the previous question, stay tuned–and also, thank you for the idea for a post, I appreciate it.

Question 5: What are the three most important things you would tell younger trans people?

There are a lot of things I would love to say to younger trans people, but if I’m limited to only three…

1. You don’t owe anyone your identity–it can be hard knowing you’re trans when your young. Your parents may not understand, you can be bullied. It’s not an easy existence. You don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready–whether that’s when you’re 13 or 22. Take your time.

2. No matter what anyone says, no matter what you may look like, your identity is valid. If they say otherwise, they’re wrong. It doesn’t matter if they’re an adult, a parent, a doctor, or a teacher. They. Are. Wrong.

3. You will find the people that will love and care for you not just in spite of who you are, but because of it. You will find people who will embrace you for who you are. Whether that’s a romantic connection or a friendship, keep searching, and don’t lose hope even if it feels lonely.


Like I said, there’s a lot more I’d say, but I think that’s good for now.

Alright, so that’s it for part 1 of this Q&A! I’ll do another one in the future with the remaining questions, and if you care to submit a query, use the following link:



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Is not being attracted to trans people transphobic?

“I mean, I’m not attracted to trans people. I have no problem with them, I’m just not wired that way.”

“Uh, why would I be attracted to you? I’m not like…gay.”

“I could be attracted to you, but you just aren’t. You don’t have–well, you know.”

All right bitches, time for an education. Again.

If you’re trans and have been out of the closet for five minutes you’ve probably heard one rendition of the above, all teetering around the same question–”How could I possibly find a trans person attractive”?

There’s been a ton of discussion around this, namely focusing on whether this sort of statement/behavior is transphobic. Usually, the same people who say this will rail against anyone who says that they could be transphobic, and to them it’s impossible they could be. It seems reasonable–they don’t hate transpeople, they just can’t feel any type of desire for someone who is trans. That’s not so bad, right?

So when people ask me if saying stuff like this is transphobic, obviously I give them the most reasonable and acceptable answer.

Yes. It is. It 100% is.

That’s the cut and dry simple answer. Statements like these are always transphobic, regardless of what sort of flavor they carry, or how nice you put it.

“But Persephone, how can it be transphobic? It’s just my preeefereence.”

Glad you asked, my friend. Let me break this down as bluntly as possible.

1. It is transphobic to say you’re not attracted to transpeople.

EGADS, HOW CAN THIS BE? Because it’s based in cultural stigma, and not legitimate preference. Trans people are a wide range of people, encompassing every race, creed, and yes, even genitalia! When you look at someone, you’re not necessarily going to know what sort of mess exists between their legs, whether they’re cis or not. Therefore you CAN be attracted to transpeople and never know they’re trans.

Because of this, stating that you can never be attracted to transpeople is transphobic. It has nothing to do with actual attraction, but more that the world at large wants to believe that we’re taboo, or otherwise disgusting.

2. It is not transphobic to not want to DATE an individual transperson.

Whoa. Put on the brakes. How can it be transphobic to say you’re not attracted to transpeople, but it isn’t transphobic to not date one?

Simple. You’re allowed to not be attracted or interested in individuals, regardless of whether they’re trans or cis. You are allowed to reject the advances of anyone that you don’t want to be with.

For example, take this interaction between Billy the Cis-Dude and Sally the Transwoman:

Sally: Hello, Billy

Billy: Sup.

Sally: I am interested in your time and companionship. Would you like to go on an evening outing with me.

Billy: Sorry, I’m not attracted to trans people.

This interaction is transphobic, because the rejection comes with a blanket statement about all transpeople. However, let’s take the following.

Sally: Hey, Billy!
Billy: Sup?
Sally: Would you like to go out with me sometime? I think you’re pretty hot.
Billy: I’m sorry, Sally–I’m just not interested in you like that? It’s never crossed my mind.

I mean sure, Sally might be a little bit upset at the rejection, but this is not transphobic. Billy just doesn’t like Sally because he isn’t attracted to her. HER. As in she the individual. No blanket statements were made about trans people as a whole. Therefore, it is not transphobic.

3. Sexuality matters

As much as I wish all humans were bi/pan, that’s not actually the case. Some men are attracted to men. Some women are attracted to women, and that’s just the binary genders–not encompassing the whole totality of human sexuality at all.
These things are important to respect. So, for example, if Billy were gay:

Sally: Yo, Billy!
Billy: Yes?
Sally: Wanna go out?
Billy: Sorry, I only date dudes.

This is not at all transphobic–instead, it’s really the opposite, as in this rejection Billy has reaffirmed that Sally is a woman, and therefore he, as a gay man, isn’t interested.

However, if Sally were actually Sal, the transman…

Sal: Hey, Billy–wanna make out?
Billy: Fuck no–I don’t like women!

Transphobic. Super transphobic. Get it? However, like stated above, if Billy were to reject Sal’s advances based on not being interested in HIM alone, it’s not transphobic. It’s just good old ordinary rejection.

This is one of the few things that is almost pan-trans people, including binary and non-binary. Whereas a transwoman might be invalidated about her gender in a rejection, someone who is non-binary may only be seen as the gender they’re assigned at birth, and if they are rejected by being told that they are that gender, or again that all transpeople are gross, it’s still transphobic.

  1. Attraction =/= Sex

Here is a statement that may be controversial across the board: being attracted to someone and being willing to have sex with them are separate issues. Feeling attraction to a transperson may not necessarily mean that someone is willing to have sex with them. Like I keep saying on this blog, consent is important. Therefore, someone who admits that they’re attracted to you but is unwilling to sleep with you is still valid.

HOWEVER, the reasons for this can still be transphobic. In most cases, it’s generally a good idea NOT to tell anyone why you’re rejecting them. Just don’t do it. Keeping your mouth shut will not only stop you from being blatantly transphobic, but from insulting someone in general.

Yeah, I speak from experience.

There are a number of reasons why some people may not be willing or are uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping with a transperson, some of which are transphobic but technically understandable. And I mean technical in the thinnest sense possible. The thought of being with someone with the potential for a different genital setup than you’re used to can take a bit of adjustment to accept. That is transphobia (in that fear of trans people is transphobia), but it’s understandable. Annoying, unpleasant, and makes transpeople feel kinda like freaks, but understandable.

That, however, is my opinion, and is slightly a controversial one. Some trans people may say that that is also transphobia and therefore unacceptable in any regard, and I do see their point. Like in many things, this one is not so much black and white.

Hey, not everything is easy.

To summate all this again, it is transphobic to say you can never be attracted to trans people, but it is perfectly valid to reject people, trans or cis, that you’re uninterested in.


Thanks so much for supporting the blog, and for your patience. The article about embracing your sexuality while being trans will be up in two weeks–as of right now, the blog is on a brief hiatus while I go into tech and performance week for the show I’m in at the Oberon in Boston! Blog will resume after that.


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Please consider supporting the blog at http://www.patreon.com/thebrokeasstranswoman, and like the facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/BrokeAssTranswoman/

Dating Transpeople 101

It occurred to me, several weeks after I made the two anal sex posts, that I covered fucking before I wrote a guide about actually dating transpeople. In that way, my blog mirrors much more of my life than I intended.

Hello all, and welcome back to The Broke-Ass Transwoman. In case the title did not clarify enough, I am Sephie, your local poor af blogger, transwoman, gamer and consummate slut, here to give you advice straight from the knee-deep cess pool that is my brain! While I am possibly as qualified to speak on this subject as a slug is for giving advice on Super Mario 64 speed runs, not knowing anything about a subject doesn’t stop politicians from telling women what they can do with their bodies and therefore won’t stop me. We’re living the dream here, people–suspend that belief with me.

Because today, dear reader–it’s going to be an interactive event. Yes, you heard me. This is gonna be hands on. Real getting your hands dirty kind of stuff. Why?

Because you’re taking me on a date.

I know, I know–you’re wondering what you did to deserve this five-foot-eight tall pile of perverted thoughts, questionable morals, and even more questionable taste in clothing. How did you, reader, get so lucky? Well, the truth is that you’re here and you’re available; so you’re already miles above everyone I’ve wanted to date. Granted, you can refuse (consent is important), but if you continue reading–we’re going on a date. It’s happening. Got reservations and errythangggg.

But before we go on this clearly life-altering date, how do you prepare? How do you ready your brain for going on a date with a wondrous, stupendous, gorgeous transwoman whose hobbies include eating ramen straight from the pot half-naked on her couch?

1. Stop thinking this is weird.

You’re going on a date with a transperson. I get it, it might be new for you. You might feel strange that you’re getting tingly in your nether bits over a transperson in general. That might be scary.

That’s fine and fair, but is 1000% your problem to deal with for now, not hers, his, or theirs. If you spend the entire night saying how “different” and “strange” this is for you, you’re going to accomplish nothing but making them feel alienated as fuck.

This is not to say that trepidation isn’t natural. It’s understandable, given that society views transpeople, especially transwomen, as boogeymen (heavy on the man, ugh). However, if you’ve already gone far enough down this road that you’ve agreed to the date, try to let that take the back seat. If you have concerns, maybe try to talk about them before the actual date happens. While we’re on this date, it’s better to just think about it like it’s any other date you’ve gone on with a cis-person. Which is to say potentially horrible, but you don’t know that yet!

I’m a keeper. Trust.

2. Your apartment is not a date

This might strike you as a little odd. Sure, chilling in your apartment might not be a great date, but like, you can make dinner, light a few candles or whatever, right?


Here’s the deal–while that’s all well and fucking good for cis-women, you know what transpeople are used to being? Dirty secrets that never get to meet your family, friends, or be seen with you outside the place you jerk off in. For a lot of people, we’re big, wide-mouthed blow-up dolls to be deflated and put away in the shame corner whenever you’re done being dick shallow inside us.

I can count on my left hand the number of partners I’ve had who were comfortable with being seen with me outside, and believe me, that burns, and not in the fun, playing-with-wax kind of way.

While there are some transpeople who may not be out yet, or who are just not comfortable presenting as such outside a private dwelling right now, many of us would prefer to go out. In public. Where there’s people. It’s a good litmus test to see if you’re a decent person, or if we’re just some shameful secret you want to keep in the dark.


Alright. So you’ve done some mental prep work now. You’re ready to take my bright, shiny ass out on a date. What else could you possibly need?

A lot.

3. Prepare for stares

So, we start our date–I look hot, by the way, just want to make that clear–and we go to a restaurant. While we’re there, we draw eyes.

A lot of them. A disturbing amount, and they’re not all friendly.

I am doing an excellent job selling dating me and those like me, but realistically, there is a big possibility that you will get stared at on a date with a transperson. As much as I personally like to imagine it’s because of my stunning good looks, it’s usually because people are judgmental douchewaffles.

You need to keep in mind that you will likely never see these people again, and their opinions don’t matter. Take the staring in stride, and instead of viewing it with shame, see it as standing in the light they’re too afraid to have shine on them.

On the same token…

4. Prepare to leave if things get bad

As much as I encourage ignoring the stares, please be at least a little bit aware of them. Staring can be harmless, but harassment isn’t. If people shout at you or start looking like they’re about to do violence to us, GTFO. Do not pass go. Do not collect $100.

I generally find that most people are content to stare and whisper under their breath, but that isn’t always the case. Be safe, both for you and your date partner–which here, is me. Please don’t get us killed by being too stubborn to find a new restaurant, I don’t think they have great menus in hell.

Alright, so we’re in the restaurant–no one has bothered us. We’re good. We’re chatting, and most importantly, I’m hella hot. Wearing a slinky little red number. My hair is totally doing something nice and not just sticking from the sides of my head like Cynthia from Rugrats.

Just wanted to give you another reminder–as long as I’m making up this fiction, damn straight Imma look good.

So, date goes well, and I’m dead sexy and you think that you maaaybe want to take this further. We get back to your place, and things start getting tense.

What should you know?

5. Now is the time to raise concerns

I know I discouraged talking about all your nerves earlier in the date–this is not because feeling these nerves is bad, but it really, really bogs down a date when all the other person an do is talk about how this is “their first time with someone like you” and “I’m so goddamn nervous”.

However, you should ALWAYS discuss boundaries and fears before being with a partner. I don’t care if you think it will ruin the mood–the mood is gonna get ruined by mediocre sex if you both don’t have the same expectations, or if you can’t get it up because you’re freaking out. If this is new to you, please talk about this stuff before you do the deed.


6. You don’t need to fuck on the first date


This may seem obvious and more me telling myself than anything, but if you have serious interest in a transperson, you do not have to fuck on the first date. Often, at least in my experience, fucking then tends to mean you’re a) just after sex b) don’t want me for anything else. Granted, I’ll still throw my ass back anyway, but not everyone is a shameless slut like me.

There is nothing innately wrong with fucking on the first date. However, I do know at this point in my life it usually means that nothing serious will come from it, which may be fine if that’s what you and your partner want.

Also, we could totally fuck and you could still call me in the morning–a novel goddamn concept in my life, believe me.

With all that said, there’s one important thing to remember through all of this.


Seriously–no matter who you’re dating: cis, trans, non-binary, or a soul sucking succubus from hell, the important thing is to remember that you’re here to enjoy yourself. If you’re not, there’s a good chance they’re not the right person to be hanging out with.

That all said, this date was awesome and make sure you call me. ;*

You are gonna call me, right?

…wait, where the fuck did you go? DID YOU LEAVE? GOD FUCKING DAMN IT.

T________T Back to OkCupid, I guess. 


Special thanks to our newest Patreon supporter, Maxwell L!

Be sure to check out the Patreon at patreon.com/thebrokeasstranswoman

Salty and Single: Surviving V-Day as a Transperson

Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate love in the most commercial way possible. A day to ply your girlfriend’s favor with chocolate to take away the guilt of you cheating on her for six months, or gifts of jewelry to stave off an impending divorce.

Let me be fucking clear: while I adore that there is a designated day for love, Valentine’s Day sucks, especially if you’re single and especially if you’re trans. It’s a day when you’re flashed without consent by every single reminder that romance has eluded you once again, and to have every bit of media reflect that yes, you do not fit the ideal for what is desirable.

I have been single every Valentine’s Day since it started to matter to me. As the bitter, begrudging romantic that I am, let’s be real–the day hurts. As easy as it is to yell about how commercial it is, or how it doesn’t or shouldn’t matter because it’s just like any other day; if you are a person that is into the idea of romance, it’s painful. Really painful.

I don’t have any advice for how people can find love–to be honest, if there is one thing that I suck at more than math, it’s dating. However, I can give advice for something that I’m fucking great at–avoiding any and all of my problems!

Even if you can’t fill the all-encompassing void of loneliness inside you, there are ways to forget the ache, at least until the day is over and you go back to your cold, sad bed. Distraction is key.

So, how can you do this?

1. Eat

Like most people, I like to comfort myself with warm food, because if I can’t stuff myself with someone on V-Day, I might as well fill my gut. Order out, or if you’re an industrious sort, make yourself some decadent goodies. The process of baking might just use enough brainpower to keep you from crying into the batter of your salted caramel cupcakes! After all, just because we’re salty and bitter doesn’t mean your food has to be!

Is this the healthiest method of coping? Nope. Do I care? Not even a little.

2. Think of your accomplishments. Any of them.

Sure, you may not have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or any flavor of partner whatsoever, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t other stuff we can feel good about. Maybe you took up a health kick with the New Year and stuck with it! Maybe you finally got promoted, or maybe you managed to save a lot of money last year!

I didn’t manage to do any of that shit, so I’m out of luck, but those of you that did? Remember it. Warm yourself with it. Let it be the fire that keeps out the cold of loneliness. Those of us who are amounting to nothing in our lives (like yours truly) envy you.

3. Tinder

You might not have love but you can fuck the pain away. Or try to, anyway. Tinder can suck for trans people, just like any other dating site/app, but if you just need to remind yourself you’re still a semi-attractive vaguely human shaped being, sometimes this can help!

Or, as your one-time partner zips their fly and bounces after ten minutes of disappointment, it can remind you that people suck, and why the fuck would you want to be with one in the first place?

4. Invest in a fancy sex toy

Not everyone can afford to do this, but if you can–splurge. Indulge. Get yourself that fancy vibrator that’s shaped like an egg! Get you that magic wand that makes you wonder why men haven’t been made obsolete! Get a fleshlight, and fuck yourself to completion while remembering you don’t need a partner at all, even if you’re not over your ex!
Which, I am, by the way. I need to stress that I fucking am. I’m not that lonely, okay. Okay? God.

5. Single Friends

This is a serious suggestion–single friends are your single greatest asset against the heart-and-flower shaped horde of V-Day. Everyone else in your life will be off gallivanting and doing whatever couples do, but your single, bitter friends? It’s time to form a bond built of saltiness and spite.

Some of your friends may actually be fine with being single too–after all, it’s just a day. It’s value will change from person to person. If you’re as bitter and poorly-adjusted as me, maybe their confidence and laid-back perspective can keep you from remembering you’re probably going to be alone forever.

Oh god. I’m gonna be alone forever.

Ignoring my own crisis, I and a bunch of my friends are having a silly craft day on Valentine’s Day, which will be a fun little distraction from my own crushing sadness! As a suggestion, you and your friends could all go out to dinner (if you can stomach the couples) or order in and watch movies! You could play Overwatch or another video game. Anything flashy will help stave off any crushing realizations like the one I just had!


  1. Retail Therapy

I may have already suggested sex toys, but buying other useless crap can ALSO make you feel better! Ply your depression demons away with a sense of 1980s materialism! After all, who can make you sad when you just bought a new PS4 Pro? Just don’t go overboard and make it so you can’t afford the rent on the first.

Me, I’m going to indulge in lingerie which I will wear out in public as if it’s real clothing! Because I need attention or I will actually fucking wilt. Also, if I don’t wear it for myself, who else will I wear it for?

All these things aside–and not to get fucking after school special on you–the best thing you can do when you’re single is to practice self-love. Try not to let yourself be reminded of the failed relationships or shitty one night stands you’ve had for the last decade–you’re still a valuable and worthwhile person, and if no one else wants you, love yourself shamelessly, selfishly, and without abandon.
Then you can tell Valentine’s Day to shove it.

…but I can’t entirely, because it’s also my father’s birthday. Yes. His name is fucking Valentino. Yes, his child has literally zero game. Sigh.

And to those of you readers that got this far despite being in a relationship–I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s Day. ❤

…Seriously. That’s not sarcasm. I promise.