The Invisible Problem

When fear of gender identity becomes a moral panic

Photo by Sven Mieke on Unsplash

---

---

With the number of anti-trans bills increasing, it seems that there is a growing crusade against transgender people. The moral panic has progressed to the point where people distrust their neighbors simply for not conforming to traditional gender norms. Female athletes are now subjected to questioning, accused of being transgender instead of being recognized for their talent and hard work. It begs the question: how far will people take these unfounded fears before they realize that transphobia hurts them too? That transphobia actually impacts everyone—and it affected me too earlier this week.

I was on my way to my cycling class at the gym, one of the many locations the franchise had on the Upper East Side, where I had been a member for about two years. I was greeted by two friendly front desk associates as I checked in with my barcode. I managed a few steps down the stairs to the men’s locker room when one of the front desk associates stopped me.

“Um, sir, excuse me!” the woman called out.

I stopped mid-step, turned back, and moved a little closer. Getting stopped wasn’t a rare occurrence for me; usually, it meant my barcode hadn’t scanned properly. I was certain that was the case this time too.

She smiled politely. “Can you show me your barcode again, please?”

I quickly opened the app on my phone, pressed my index finger against the screen, and pulled up my barcode, which displayed prominently beneath my profile photo. Her gaze fell on the picture—a slightly older image of me with longer hair and some stubble—before looking back at me.

“Yeah, that’s not you.”

My head tilted slightly, my bearded face forming a look of bewilderment. “What do you mean that’s not me?” My voice reflected how caught off guard I was. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat before I continued. “That is me.”

---

---

She stared at me for a few moments, an awkward silence hanging between us. I held my ground, standing with the confidence that I was, in fact, the same person in the photo.

Another beat of silence. Then, finally: “Okay…” She moved away from the railing and returned to the front desk.

I made my way to the men’s locker room, but my mind was reeling. It had been years since I stood out to anyone in that way—over a decade, in fact. The moment raised so many questions that lingered beneath my confident exterior.

What do people think transgender people do in communal spaces? Do they not trust us to simply live our lives? To use the restrooms that align with our gender identity with no deeper reason beyond that? Do they think we’re a threat simply for existing?

That question became even louder when I read about a cisgender woman who initially welcomed trans women into her gym but later changed course, reopening the space as a "cis women-only" gym. The shift wasn’t about safety or fairness. It was about caving to the same moral panic that positions trans people as threats rather than community members. But the deeper irony is that the more these rigid boundaries of gender are enforced, the more they harm everyone. Even cisgender women are now subjected to scrutiny if they don’t fit a narrow, traditional ideal of femininity. Just look at how female athletes are accused of being transgender the moment they dominate in their sport. It’s all the same fear-driven policing.

Whatever the reasoning, one thing is clear: there is still so much work to be done. We need to move beyond basic "Trans 101" trainings and create space for deeper conversations about gender identity and gender expression. These trainings must also incorporate cultural awareness, recognizing that gender identity and expression vary across different cultures and communities. Many societies have long acknowledged non-binary and gender-diverse identities in ways that Western frameworks still fail to capture. We need to recognize that gender nonconformity is not synonymous with being transgender, and that transgender people are not a danger to society simply for existing.

If we can open our minds—not just to humanizing transgender people but also to embracing gender fluidity instead of shaming it—we’ll do more than maintain the political progress we’ve fought for. We will ensure that future generations can move forward in a world where equity isn’t just a goal but a reality.

---