What's So Hard to Get? Transphobia in Our Midst
A cis lesbian reflects on why parts of our community struggle to extend empathy to trans and gender‑diverse people - and what genuine allyship requires of us.
There is one question I keep coming back to whenever I hear another lesbian say something disparaging about transgender people: how did a community that has fought so hard for the right to be ourselves become so divided over someone else’s right to do the same? Why Trans Fear (WTF)?
As a cisgender lesbian who grew up battling to figure out my identity, and finding the courage to come out to my loved ones, I cannot fathom why I, or people who have been on similar journeys for self‑acceptance and love, would think it was okay to deny another human being the right to their own self‑discovered identity - especially when that identity does no harm to anyone else.
And when we speak of harming others, believe me, I understand there is an epidemic of gendered violence across the globe (I work in the area and have done so for many years), but that’s not what we are talking about here. We know where violence against women comes from. Australian evidence tells us that women are significantly more likely to experience physical and/or sexual violence from someone they know than from a stranger (ABS Personal Safety Survey). We also know that one in four women has experienced violence by an intimate partner since the age of 15 (ABS PSS). This evidence points to women being overwhelmingly harmed by men they know - not by transgender women in public bathrooms.
“It’s simply not logical to conflate women’s safety with trans people’s access to bathrooms.”
Bathrooms and Fear
Bathrooms seem to dominate conversations about trans people. These spaces have become symbolic battlegrounds, even though gender‑neutral bathrooms are everywhere - homes, airplanes, cafes, motels, hotels and even bushes, if you count bush‑wees.
Evidence shows that trans and gender‑diverse people are far more likely to be targets of violence than perpetrators. In Australia’s largest survey of anti‑trans hate, around half of the 1,309 trans and gender‑diverse participants reported experiencing anti‑trans abuse, harassment or vilification in the previous 12 months, while one in ten reported anti‑trans physical or sexual violence (La Trobe University, 2024).
And yet, recent UK guidance and proposed legal changes indicate that trans women may be excluded from female single‑sex facilities. WTF indeed.
Loved Ones Who Are Trans and Gender Diverse
Yep, I’m fired up about this topic. The hostility directed at trans and gender‑diverse people feels deeply personal. Not just because I’ve been ridiculed, hated and discriminated against for being a lesbian, but because I’ve had the absolute privilege of having friends, a lover, colleagues, even a stepchild, who identify as trans and gender diverse.
These are my loved ones. Fellow human beings. It isn’t okay for these beautiful humans to be objectified, dehumanised, ridiculed or disrespected - especially when their identities are no big deal in the grand scheme of things. What really matters is loving one another.
The idea that these loved ones should be treated any less respectfully makes me want to spit my tea out — upper‑case UGH and eyeroll to the stars. Every. Single. Darned. Time.
Women’s Spaces
I was at a lesbian event recently. It was beautiful - a panel of speakers sharing from the heart what it means to be lesbian, trans, non‑binary, young, a 78er, an activist, a journalist, an influencer; intersectional. The audience was captivated.
Then the microphones opened for questions.
A couple of audience members with trans‑exclusionary views took turns monologuing about their rights to their own spaces, insisting they didn’t want trans women in them. They ignored the facilitator’s interventions and persisted with their diatribes. It felt jarring, shameful and incredibly disrespectful to the panellists and the audience gathered in good faith.
Our community should know better. People who have experienced discrimination should recognise it before acting it out against another marginalised group.
Months later, at a different women’s event - Generation Women - I happened to sit next to one of the trans panellists from the earlier event. It was her first time attending. Given the global epidemic of political trans‑bashing, I’d feel terrified to be in a large room of women if I were a trans woman.
She was welcomed warmly. She stayed. She smiled.
“That was really good!” she said.
Her courage left a deep impression on me. Simply walking through the door required a kind of bravery I rarely need to think about these days.
“Staying in a room where you suspect people might loathe you - simply for existing - is an act of profound courage”
Our Shared History
It wasn’t long ago that lesbians couldn’t hold hands in public without copping abuse. Remember the 78ers? Queers fighting for our rights, getting bashed and locked up for daring to be visible. It’s not so long ago that we couldn’t marry, visit our partners in hospital, or be out at school or work and still keep our jobs.
We have come a long way because we stayed. We refused to disappear.
So why do some in our community want trans people to do exactly that?
Every one of us deserves a seat at the table. None of us has the right to deny someone else’s humanity simply because we don’t fully understand their experience.
Where Is the Love?
I wonder if fear plays a role. For people who spent decades fighting for recognition as lesbians, the pace of social change around gender can feel unsettling. Some worry that hard‑won identity descriptions or spaces are changing too quickly. Those feelings are real.
But fear isn’t evidence, and discomfort isn’t a licence to deny someone else’s humanity.
I don’t believe most lesbians who are anxious about these issues are motivated by hatred. Many are trying to reconcile deeply held beliefs with a rapidly changing understanding of gender. But difficult conversations still require dignity and respect.
I’ve spent much of my life hoping people would judge me by my humanity rather than by false narratives about who or how I love. That hope isn’t just for me. Every one of us deserves to take our seat at the table without having to prove we belong there.
Sometimes the bravest thing any of us can do is stay.
Tootles. Catherine Mellors
Sources
Australian Bureau of Statistics, Personal Safety Survey (2021).
La Trobe University & Rainbow Health Australia, Trans & Gender Diverse Sexual Violence & Abuse Study (2024).
Equality and Human Rights Commission (UK), Guidance on Single‑Sex Spaces (2024).
