Dear Roe,
I am a transgender Irish man and I am scared. I came out 10 years ago, but Ireland today is so much unfriendlier than in 2015 and now, I don’t go out at night for fear of being grabbed or attacked (it’s happened once or twice). The same goes for all marginalised people at the moment, especially trans women and Irish people of colour. Could you please advise about how it is possible to date when you’re terrified that the person across from you is alt-right?
I’m so sorry. Wanting love and connection and safety is a universal experience, but only some people get to pursue that desire freely. When the basic desire to meet someone, to find love has to be accompanied by fear, when moving through the world has to be constantly accompanied by surveillance and safety plans and survival strategies, life becomes exhausting. You are allowed to be angry at this. You are allowed to want more than survival. You are allowed to want pleasure and connection and care, even in a climate where that feels risky. The history of LGBTQ+ people has been defined by people being targeted, policed, attacked – but it’s also been defined by resistance and the refusal to accept that love and safety must be mutually exclusive. Queer and trans people have always resisted and persisted and will continue to do so – but I’m so sorry that it’s so hard at the moment.
[ Ask Roe: Send your sex and relationship questions anonymouslyOpens in new window ]
You’re not wrong to feel that Ireland – and much of the world – was more trans-friendly around the mid-2010s. In 2015, mainstream culture celebrated trans people: Laverne Cox in Orange Is the New Black, the support for Caitlyn Jenner, pro-trans statements in the US and UK, and the Gender Recognition Act here.
I ended my situationship six months ago but I’m still not over him. How do I move on?
Where can my wife and I access porn that is both legal and erotic?
I think I’m in love with my ‘situationship’ but he doesn’t feel the same
‘My brother-in-law wants to move in with us but I don’t think my marriage will survive it’
But since then, as you know, things have shifted. And we need to recognise that the rise in hostility toward trans people in Ireland, the UK and the US is not organic, it is co-ordinated. Many of the most aggressive narratives now circulating here originate abroad, pushed by groups with no real stake in Irish society or wellbeing, but aiming to stoke fear and division. Trans people are targeted not because they pose a threat, but because they are an effective tool for conservative and far-right groups: undermining trans rights upholds patriarchal power, and persuading society to accept the oppression of one marginalised group makes it easier to stall equality more broadly.
[ ‘My partner has a hateful secret online life’Opens in new window ]
Even people who struggle with the basic principle that everyone deserves respect should recognise this. Women who identify as feminists but hold anti-trans views (a contradiction in terms in my opinion) should consider how patriarchy thrives when women are politically divided. The fixation of conservative politicians on trans people is deliberate – a way to stoke fear and fracture solidarity in ways that ultimately harm all women, as well as queer and trans people. No party or politician attacking trans people has ever meaningfully protected women’s rights outside the narrow, hostile frame they use to justify disempowering trans people. When cis women align with these narratives, even passively, they’re often unaware they’re reinforcing conditions that undermine their own safety and autonomy. The issues faced by trans people – bodily autonomy, freedom from violence, equal rights, protection from state coercion, the ability to live without fear – are the same issues that shape cis women’s lives. Gender liberation benefits everyone, including cis men, by loosening restrictive norms that harm us all.
I do want to note that Ireland has made enormous social progress in the past 30 years, moving from church-driven conservatism to legalising divorce, same-sex marriage and abortion by public vote. Though small pockets of homophobia, transphobia and racism have grown louder, there is still strong support for marginalised communities and a broad commitment to progress. Within two weeks of taking office, our new President wrote a letter of support to the Transgender Equality Network Ireland on Trans Day of Remembrance. I don’t say this to diminish the real fear and danger facing trans people, or to pretend Ireland is perfect or immune – it isn’t. We need to stay vigilant and push back against bigotry while fighting for better treatment and protections for trans people. But it’s worth remembering that Ireland as a whole has not turned against you, even if the noise has grown harsher.
[ Racism, homophobia, transphobia, misogyny are all driven by fearOpens in new window ]
Still, none of this negates your fear when you sit across from a stranger on a date. Many trans people carry a very specific and complicated set of fears when dating, because the stakes are not just emotional but physical. There is the fear that someone who seems kind might suddenly reveal deeply transphobic or alt-right beliefs; the fear of being treated as an experiment or a secret rather than a partner; the fear of being outed without consent; and the fear that the simple acts of being out in public could expose them to harassment or violence. Trans people have to navigate the emotional vulnerability of dating while also bracing for the possibility that the person across the table might not see them as fully human. That burden is heavy and heartbreaking and deeply unfair.
But there are ways to date without surrendering to the worst possibilities, and they are not about living in fear but about constructing a framework of self-protection that lets you breathe.
Ask Roe
You can make decisions about whether to date online via LGBTQ+friendly apps, which can allow you to speak with people without meeting in person first, taking conversations slowly so you have time to observe how someone talks to you, talks about gender, how they treat boundaries. Dating online means you can also make decisions about when to disclose, weighing up what feels safest. What matters is that you choose the moment that feels right for you – this is not deception, it is safety. You can verify people’s identities via social media or a quick video call before meeting. These small acts of caution do not eliminate risk entirely, but they can dramatically reduce it. Or you might prefer to meet people within physical LGBTQ+ spaces like nightclubs, community events, clubs that all increase the likelihood of meeting respectful, supportive, understanding peers.
Whether you meet people on- or offline, trust your instincts. You do not owe anyone the benefit of the doubt at the expense of your wellbeing. If something feels off, it probably is. You can leave a conversation, end a chat, walk out of a date and you do not need to justify it. Make safety plans when meeting anyone: tell a friend where you are going, choose well-lit public places, have a check-in plan with someone. You can be open about the fact that you take precautions: anyone worth dating will respect that and will understand that you are protecting yourself because you need to. If they react with irritation or mockery, you have learned something important early.
And within all of this, remember that Ireland is still filled with people who care, who resist hatred, who push back against imported bigotry, who want queer and trans people to thrive. The loudest voices are not the only voices. The fear you feel is justified, but it is not the whole truth.
Dating as a trans person now requires courage, caution and tenderness toward yourself. But you deserve to sit across from someone who sees you as a whole person. Although the world feels harsher than it once did, the possibility of finding love hasn’t vanished. Undertake that search on your own terms, at your own pace, with whatever safety measures you need – but please don’t give up on it. You deserve this.
