Your Lovable Trans Auntie is our go-to advice column for life’s biggest (and messiest) questions—love, work, identity, and everything in between. With a signature blend of warmth, wit, and just the right amount of sass, Auntie offers readers a uniquely trans perspective that’s as affirming as it is entertaining. Whether dishing out heartfelt wisdom, practical advice, or a little tough love, Auntie is here to remind everyone that they’re never alone on this journey.
Got a crush but don’t know how to tell them you’re trans? Wondering how to deal with that coworker who still “forgets” your pronouns? Trying to navigate family drama, dating dilemmas, or just figuring out who you are? Auntie’s got you. Submit your questions to voices@equalpride.com.
As the weather warms up and the heaps of snow melt, stiletto weather has returned. And, with it comes the urge to go out.
Whether with friends or by myself, I enjoy a semi-social night out. Some used to ponder why I "overdressed" when going out, but what else should I wear after 6 pm? Usually, it starts at a nearby LGBTQ+ bar, followed by spending the rest of the time at "straight" venues: cocktail lounges, dive bars, and the occasional club. When I first came out to these spaces many years ago, I fretted about whether I was passable. But over the years, maturing, hormones, and perhaps the right makeup and clothes have steeled my confidence. Still, there's an occasional chink in my armor, the worry and fear I would be clocked while enjoying a martini.
Yes, my loves, Auntie comes with baggage heavier than my weekend tote.
Passing can conjure feelings of safety, acceptance, or validation; clocking, however, dismantles the safety net we build. While stealth is a more covert experience, each concept is loaded with nuance, politics, and personal significance.
What does passing, stealth, and clocking mean?
In the trans community, "passing," "stealth," and "clocking" aren't just words you casually drop during brunch. They carry weight and often reflect deep-seated survival strategies.
To make sure we're on the same page:
- Passing: When a trans person is perceived or recognized by others as cisgender (i.e., not "looking" trans).
- Stealth: When a trans person chooses to live in a way that does not disclose their trans identity. They might relocate, switch careers, or delete old social media accounts to avoid being outed.
- Clocking: The act—intentional or not—of identifying a person as trans. Essentially, noticing or calling out someone's trans identity, sometimes with harmful or dangerous consequences.
For some, passing is a safety passport; for others, it's an unfair barometer that elevates cis-normative standards. Going stealth can be liberating—or suffocating, depending on how you approach it. Clocking, like outing, can happen anywhere, anytime, and often with zero regard for a person's right to privacy or emotional well-being.
What does passing mean to trans people?
Passing, or when people assume you're cis, allows a trans person to skip the awkward "Wait, did they just call me 'sir' or 'ma'am'?" fiasco and dodge the dreaded bathroom confrontations. But passing also brings up the question: Are we reinforcing the very norms that made our transness "taboo" in the first place?
Much of society still clings to a narrow vision of "real" men and "real" women—like we're all supposed to fit into one of two neatly labeled boxes. If your body, style, or mannerisms align with those boxes, you might pass with fewer hurdles. But plenty of trans folks don't. Should they be penalized or made to feel "less than" simply because they don't meet a cis gaze's demands? Absolutely not. Yet some trans folks internalize the idea that looking as cis as possible is the gold standard. It's like telling ourselves, "You're valid…but only if no one can tell."
Exhausting, right?
What does it mean for a trans person to "go stealth"?
To go stealth isn't a TikTok-age phenomenon. It dates back decades and centuries, shaped by social and legal realities. Living stealth was (and is) often the only way trans people could secure employment, housing, or even just keep breathing in societies where the penalty for being openly trans ranged from ostracization to violence. Or worse.
The history also intersects with race and class in powerful ways. Black trans women in earlier decades—and even now—might face compound layers of discrimination that make stealth more than just a preference but a life-or-death necessity. In some communities, clocking a Black or Brown trans person can lead to immediate danger. And, yes, colorism can and does impact the community; a trans person of lighter skin might find certain doors swing open more easily, from access to employment and healthcare to safer neighborhoods. These inequalities underscore why passing and stealth are not just personal milestones but often reflections of societal privilege.
What does it mean to have "passing privilege"?
Passing privilege, like any sort of privilege, can feel like an unexpected dinner guest who always has something to say. In the trans community, it shows up in myriad ways. Genetics can influence how readily you're read as cis, especially when you inherit more feminine features. Financial resources can fund hormone therapies, surgeries, and cosmetic procedures that tip the scales toward passing. Social capital, like supportive friends and family or living in a trans-friendly city, can also soften society's harsh edges.
However, these privileges can create a hierarchy within the trans community itself. If we praise passing too lavishly, we inadvertently sideline those who can't or don't want to pass. A trans woman who doesn't conform to mainstream beauty standards, or a trans man who isn't built like a star quarterback, shouldn't be viewed as "less successfully" trans. Everyone's journey is different, and celebrating only one outcome can foster unhealthy competition and self-doubt.
What does it mean to "clock" a trans person?
Clocking is best described as a moment when a cis person's spidey senses (read: biases) kick in, and they realize—or claim to realize—that a person they're interacting with is trans. For many trans folks, being clocked can feel like a record scratch in the middle of a carefully choreographed dance routine. One second, you're just existing and minding your business. Then there's this tension in the air and a glance to identify where it's coming from: a raised eyebrow, a double-take, or a whispered remark with a side-eye.
The impact of being clocked can vary widely. Some trans people can shrug it off; others may experience fear, anger, or shame. The emotional stakes are high because being clocked can lead to harassment, discrimination, or violence. Some clocking episodes don't come from a place of malice. On rare occasions, it can be an honest mistake or a misguided attempt at connection; a person trying to break bread by saying, "Oh, I have a trans cousin, too!" is a misstep but not filled with malice. But even then, it can feel intrusive. Context, intent, and empathy matter.
Here's a million-dollar question: Should clocking be our problem? Shouldn't it be on society to respect people's privacy and not reduce us to a "gotcha!" moment? Absolutely. The responsibility lies primarily with those who feel entitled to speculate about others' bodies or histories. Still, living in a culture that often pries into trans identities means we sometimes have to prepare ourselves mentally for that possibility.
It's more complicated than you think
Passing, stealthing, and clocking are not purely about how you look. Voice, mannerisms, cultural cues, and even your name play roles. Some trans folks may agonize over every detail, from vocal pitch to the angle at which they hold their phone, hoping to dodge that dreaded moment where someone goes, "Wait a minute…" It's like when having to monitor the way you walked, talked, and gestured as a kid or teen to "hide" your true self from parents and peers.
Imagine going through that as an adult.
It can feel like life becomes an unending performance, and failure is misgendered or mistreatment. The emotional labor alone is monumental. Let's not forget that not everyone has the means or desire to maintain the work. Some people just want to live freely.
And guess what? We deserve to.
Finding community and solidarity as a trans person
Thank goodness for chosen families, right? Many of us take refuge in friend groups and community where passing is neither a requirement nor stealthing a conversation starter. In the comfort of these safe havens, no one clocks you with malicious intent or holds your stealth status against you.
It's a giant relief, like slipping off your heels after a long night out.
Still, internal biases about passing can bubble up within the community. We sometimes see trans folks who pass more easily receive better treatment and affirmation, even in queer spaces. Or we may see gatekeeping among those who believe you have to look, act, or speak a certain way to be "trans enough." Honest dialogue, empathy, and introspection can help us unlearn these habits so that we don't replicate the oppressive systems we're trying to escape.
Are we more "valid" in public when we appear as cis? Does openly identifying as trans mean affirming authenticity or risking safety? There's no one-size-fits-all answer, my loves. Each person's journey is shaped by a mosaic of circumstances. But collectively, we should aim for a world where trans people can exist openly or privately, with or without disclosure, all while accessing respect, safety, and happiness.
That's the dream. It's not about forcing everyone to be out or stealth but granting everyone the freedom to choose without life-altering consequences.
How do I navigate my trans life?
If you're grappling with questions, let me offer a few guiding thoughts:- Prioritize safety: If being open about your trans status could threaten your life or livelihood, stealth might be the more viable route—at least temporarily. There's no shame in protecting yourself.
- Check your motivation: Are you trying to pass for self-affirmation or because you feel pressured to meet others' standards? Clarifying the "why" can be enlightening.
- Find your people: Seek out safe spaces where you can be authentically you.
- Practice self-compassion: Whether you pass or not, whether someone clocks you or not, you are no less valid. Cut yourself some slack.
We all—cis and trans—have to ask if we're dressing ourselves and living our truths for the world we have or for a world we want to create. A world where authenticity isn't something to be policed or hidden away. A world where the trans journey isn't measured by how convincingly you blend in but by how beautifully you blossom in your skin.
So consider this your permission slip to let go of anyone else's rules about who you ought to be. You can be stealth or loud and proud, or dabble in both depending on the day. You can strive to pass or embrace every aspect of your transness in full view of the world. Or shift your approach whenever and wherever you want.
The only nonnegotiable is this: your worth isn't determined by other people's perceptions. And if someone tries to clock you, that's on them, not you.
So here's to living our truth with style, sass, and a sprinkle of self-love. Remember, the most essential aspect of our journey is navigating a path as boldly or quietly as you wish.
And Auntie can absolutely raise a martini to that.
Til next time,
Your Lovable Trans Auntie