Falling From a Tall Pedestal
- Zoë Ariel Dunning
- Jul 27, 2021
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 4, 2024
Musings and frustrations with how people—particularly cis men—treat me completely different now as I continue to look and act less cisgender and more visibly gender non-conforming and transgender, and why gender roles and beauty standards for women are bullshit anyway.

When I first started socially transitioning (not even hormonally yet), losing my cis-passing privilege was really painful and difficult. People who are assigned female at birth (AFABs) are conditioned to seek out male approval and perform femininity for men's comfort and pleasure.
When I fit the quintessential attractive cis girl—white, thin, tall, fit, (dyed) blond hair— men's eyes seemed to be glued to me in public as they watched my every move, making me hyper-aware of my body from a young age. Similarly, cis women would often glare jealously and treat me like competition.
My body was simultaneously picked apart and policed.
The patriarchy loves to pit AFABs against each other as if we're fighting over men like scarce resources, but really, we have a common enemy: unreasonable beauty standards and the age-old objectification of bodies that happen to have curves, breasts, and vaginas.
But when I stopped looking a certain way and performing, I fell off the pedestal that cis men had put me on my whole life, and the impact shocked me awake. I realized that a pedestal is a very narrow, uncomfortable place to stand, be gawked at, and spun around like a ballerina in a wind-up music box.
"Men only put women on a pedestal so that they can look up their skirts." ~Dione, another transmasc person

On the left: cis-passing with very feminine presentation but inauthentic
On the right: smiling and more relaxed with no makeup and androgynous presentation
Other non-binary people that I talk to overwhelmingly relate to my experience after coming out as a gender other than the one they were assigned at birth.
"I grew up with long hair and relatively thin with a big butt...Guys used to try and grab/touch me without my permission. I got grabbed by my ponytail and forcibly kissed/grabbed at a bar once. Less than a week later, I shaved my head...Between that and swearing off heels/wedges? It was a whole different ball game." -Bree
"I recently cut all my hair off and started dressing androgynously, and it's a very different experience being in public." -Emily
"The catcalling for me has completely stopped. People were mad because I no longer wanted to appeal to the male gaze; even though I am solely attracted to men, I don't want to be anyone's fantasy." -Alex
"I am also transmasc and struggling with the dysphoria associated with no longer being seen as a pretty, consumable, feminine thing..." -Jules
"I consciously stepped out of an absolute ton of privilege when I came out, and I felt that loss sharply. [That privilege] was a suit of armour that never really fit me that I put on to keep myself safe...It was a real culture shock for me. People sometimes talk about how non-binary people have the option of 'putting on the privilege', but it's not really: it's putting on a lie, harming ourselves." -Quilla
"That old me just feels like a cosplay costume now. I was good at it, but it was so much stressful work." -Dana
"I feel I gain so much more in authenticity [now], and I learn that there are so many more ways to be attractive and worthy of love and attention that have nothing to do with traditional 'female' beauty standards." -Miko
"I'm expected to take a conversation [with my family] about not shaving my underarms seemingly as serious as one might talk about not finishing school or something," Sara shared with me. "'Are you really sure? Don't you think you should reconsider?' I have been conditioned to feel like I'm committing a social sin if I bare my equally unshaven legs in public. I'm afraid of being treated like someone who is smoking in a non-smoking building around children, 'cause that is how serious some people take it."
Like this person and their decision also not to shave, ultimately what my body looks like and what I do to it is up to me. Having to put in so much extra work just to have "more pleasing flesh to others' eyes", as Sara put it—whether by removing hair, putting on makeup, doing my nails, accessorizing—is an exhausting and unreasonable daily standard no matter your gender. No thanks. Cis men aren't expected or pressured to put the same effort into their appearances to be deemed attractive and socially presentable.
Not shaving is incredibly easy and unconcerning for me. Letting my body hair grow freely is just as clean and "professional" as men's body hair because I, ya know, shower and take care of myself. Dressing how I like without regard for gender norms is relieving on most days and exciting on others.
Now that I’ve adjusted to the loss of attention and validation, I’m actually really relieved and grateful that the majority of cis men aren’t attracted to me. Sometimes their looks of disgust and confusion are hurtful—especially if I'm confronted with hostility—but I try to receive the negativity in response to my non-conformity in the opposite way than their behaviour is intended: as compliments. Because anyway, I'm not interested in attracting cis men at all anymore.
I’m authentically me, and I never actually wanted men's attention, appreciation, and often aggressive, predatory “affection” as they laid eyes on me and laid claim to me and my body.
This body and the soul it houses are my own and not up for grabs.
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