Something I’ve been thinking about lately is the relationship between transitioning out of self-love, and the social friction that will come about as a result of said transition.

Singapore is not progressive when it comes to matters of gender identity. People are largely ignorant of queer people, especially those who are trans. My company touts itself as being inclusive, but it feels like performative allyship. LGBTQ+ inclusivity here involves rainbow flags during pride month, maybe some feel-good messages on the company channel. They typically organize a talk by an external speaker, to which maybe 20 out of 200+ employees attend. The abysmal attendance is emblematic of how little society really cares about being an ally.

I get the perception that the wider society thinks of queer people as a group of Others. There’s an understanding that these Others are being persecuted. There’s an understanding that it’s not easy being an Other. There’s an understanding that there’s social capital to be gained by social signalling that one is accepting of these Others. But to society, the Others are just that; an abstract concept. A group to wave flags at during one weekend in June, then push out of mind the rest of the year.

Blatant transphobia and homophobia is so common among society that it’s no longer surprising when I encounter it. These people don’t even realize they’re being phobic. It’s all internalized. A perceived man displaying traits associated with femininity is seen as “gay”, often followed by gay being used as a slur. Events who advertise as being for “women and non-binary people”, but in the description is made clear that what they really mean is “cis women, and sufficiently feminine Others.”

I’m certainly happier being on HRT. For the first time, I actually feel good about my body. However I’m also cognizant that to be visibly trans is a hard, hard road in Singapore. My goal isn’t to pass as a binary gender. I want to be able to feel confident being myself, to express both masculinity and femininity in whichever ways feel right to me, but that feels like a pipe dream in this country. To be visibly queer is to invite scrutiny and judgement and hostility.

So while I’m happier now, the path towards long-term happiness seems a barely perceptible game trail through a dense jungle. I don’t know if I can navigate it, but I’ll try. I think self-acceptance will have to play a big part in my quest for contentment, because I sure as hell can’t count on society to change.