The controversy of Miss International Queen 2025 in Thailand has shook the internet all over the globe. This year’s Miss international Queen was won by Midori Monet, a Black American trans woman, marking history and a victory for Black and trans visibility worldwide. However, her win was overshadowed when all the other contests celebrated with Olivia Lauren, first runner-up, and ignored Monet during her crowning moment. Lauren publicly accused Monet and another contestant, the second runner-up, of bullying her during the competition, and there were claims that contestants made fun of her and ostracized her backstage.
(image description: an illustration of a person with a teal, cactus-like spiky head between two islands on a black ocean against a pink sky. the border, framed in wavy spiked lines, says “GOD’S FAVORITE TRANSSEXUAL” in black bubbly text on a yellow background. this art belongs to Leo Fox, from his trans comic series Boy Island! you can get this image as a sticker at https://store.silversprocket.net/products/gods-favorite-transexual-by-leo-fox :] )
Since before I started medical transition over a year and a half ago, gaining testosterone-linked physical traits through HRT has been a goal of mine. And recently having the ability to “pass” as cisgender has been such a wild ride in a very gender-affirming way (though I still haven’t gotten used to times when I am perceived and treated as cis male in a social context, such as getting pulled in for a strong dap up after finishing a group project).
One thing that I have always been excited about was my “passability” opening up new avenues for me to explore queering my gender presentation. There was always something appealing to me about presenting physically masculine with more body hair and a deeper voice while having the freedom to wear whatever I wanted, like skirts with boots, and feeling confident wearing tight shirts without getting dysphoric about my chest. The physical traits I display are also helpful with decoding patterns of comportment and taking up space that I grew up socialized into as a “girl,” because now instead of fearing gender dysphoria from expressing emotions and being particular about the way my body moves, I feel like I am actively participating in throwing off binary norms, rather than taking up as much space as possible and acting closed off and invulnerable as embodied “masculine” stereotypes often go.
I recognize of course that presenting my gender the queer way I do is something that I have a privilege to do, as I am able to safely be out as transmasculine; I believe not every single trans person should be required to revolutionize trans embodiment and destroy gender norms whenever they can possibly be perceived. No one should be held to that standard, and critiquing those who can find safety within the gender binary is unproductive to the goal of universally embracing trans embodiments.
I believe my medical transition and performed gender, and the euphoria I experience in my trans body, demonstrate Susan Stone’s theory on the transsexual body’s ability to “generate new and unpredictable dissonances which implicate entire spectra of desire” (“The ‘Empire’ Strikes Back”). Her and Judith Butler’s description of the erotic dissonance of the butch lesbian is something I find strong connection to, especially after coming back around to identifying as a lesbian in how inherently queer and “everyone-but-cis-masculinities” my sexuality has been throughout my 8 years of being out. Butch identity and my transmasculine body just feel like they go hand in hand now, and doing what I call “coming home to lesbianism” has been such a euphoric experience for me recently, one that I feel comfortable describing as transsexual gender euphoria.
When I think about my transness, one thing that I believe is inherently intertwined with that aspect of my identity is my fatness. I find there to be power in the body. But the combination of being trans and fat, particularly due to the lack of representation of fat bodies in trans spaces, is something that has always bothered me.
It’s one reason I really enjoyed this article (https://medium.com/@sbearbergman/please-come-and-be-fat-cc04ed4d8772) that I found online some years ago. It really spoke to me as someone who struggled to pursue top surgery due to being fat. I had to pay out of pocket for this life changing surgery because the only surgeon in the state that accepted my insurance had a BMI limit; which, if you did not know, BMI is an outdated practice – a BMI limit for top surgery instead shows a lack of effort on the surgeon’s part to learn to work with fat patients, a problem which would be solved with more representation – more patients, more outreach, more effort.
Top surgery was monumental in my journey to loving my body. It saddens me so incredibly much to hear other fat trans folks talking about the lack of representation in our community, because I’ve also seen how much we get talked over by our thin counterparts. Even within the trans community, the lack of representation of fat bodies has lead to many thin trans individuals not understanding the unique struggles that come with being a fat trans person.
I love my fat, trans body, and I want everyone with the same experience to be able to say that.
I am trans… or am I??? Part of me knows that I undeniably am. I have had dysphoria for years, although I did not know what dysphoria was or even what being transgender meant. But even still, that tiny voice in the back of my mind likes to sow seeds of doubt in my thoughts. Maybe it’s denial, internalized transphobia, fear, or some other mix of emotions.
Being bigger is not easy, as anyone who is can tell you. From a bit of chub to full on large, people have a hard time dealing with it. Larger women are more often seen as either repulsive or sexually intriguing, while larger men are seen as pals, buddies, men who know how to live. The gendered standards for both are so simple and terrible.
Unruly Bodies 