Opinion piece: What gyms can be like for trans, non-binary, and gender-diverse people

Who do you turn to if you want to create a physique opposite to the one you were born with?

BY FAY BARRETT, IMAGE BY ELIJAH O’DONNELL VIA PEXELS

You know how it is, you’re in the gym and there’s some pretty boy preening in front of the mirror. A light shimmering of sweat beads his chest like baby oil as he tenses, lost in admiration of his lowkey flex.

Oh wait, that’s me. I’m the ‘preening pretty boy’.

Only replace ‘pretty’ and ‘preening’ with ‘gurning’ and ‘giving myself a hernia’ and you’ll get the picture.

Plus, the sweat situation is more like a tsunami (why am I single?).

Also, I don’t know what ‘lowkey flex’ means but it fits the ‘gym nob’ stereotype.

And yes, I am that gym nob.

But you know what? For 5 minutes I’m allowed to be because, unlike my cisgendered gym bros., I’ve had to step out of the gender norm to create a physique that makes me want to flex.

I’m a non-binary, masc. presenting lesbian (try saying that with a mouthful of protein shake). And, while I sense a slight air of threat from the toxic masculinity wafting around the gym, like an unwashed jockstrap, it’s not as inhospitable for me as it can be for the wider genderqueer community.

Gyms can be intimidating to cisgendered heteronormative folks. To anyone outside the binary, they can feel downright hostile.  

Everything about a gym is binarised, from the changing rooms to the unconscious stereotyping of who does what and where.

Who do you turn to if you want to create a physique opposite to the one you were born with? Even if that’s not a full transition but a more feminised body or a V-shaped back? Many trainers lack understanding and the ‘go to’ is to train you like you’re cis (cisgendered = someone who’s gender identity aligns with what they were assigned at birth).

If you’re female presenting, you’ll likely be trained in a stereotypical feminine manner (read, aerobics and tiny 2kg weights). If you’re male presenting, fasten your weights belt and get your ‘grunt’ on, you’re relegated to the weights room.

What if you don’t want a ‘bikini body’? What if you want to wander about all rippling abs in a pair of ‘Calvins’? Or vice versa.

And what about the uncomfortable looks when you strip down to said pair of ‘Calvins’ in the changing room?  Just the other day I realised how my underwear choice immediately ‘outs’ me in cisgendered changing rooms.

And that’s another thing, why are there so few changing cubicles? Most people don’t enjoy stripping down to their kecks in front of complete strangers, regardless of their gender identity. We all feel vulnerable about our bodies. No one wants to expose their lumpy bits to the entire changing room.

Multiply that feeling by 100 and you’ll have some idea of how exposing this can be for trans or non-binary folk. Add in a, very real, element of danger, not usually experienced by the cishet (cisgendered heterosexual) community. Imagine being a trans man, wearing a binder, and having to change openly in a men’s changing room. Think about the looks, the vulnerability, the fear.

Many trans people live in fear of potential violence just in normal social situations. Imagine how much worse that is when you’re having to expose your body to a public changing room. What do you do? Go into the women’s space and suffer intense gender-dysphoria at being somewhere that doesn’t align with your gender? Even worse, are you made to feel unwelcome in that space and like you are some kind of threat?

As a masc., non-binary lesbian, I’ve not faced the same challenges. But that slight whiff of threat, I mentioned earlier, is still there. When your sexuality or gender has a question mark over it, gyms don’t always feel particularly safe. So, when I rock up to the weights room in my boy shorts and TinTin quiff I don’t feel entirely welcome because people don’t always know how to place me. But I don’t care. Many gender-diverse people have a harder time so if I can help carve a bit of space, in an industry desperately behind the diversity curve, I’ll do it. Everyone deserves their flex moment in front of the mirror. Nothing says ‘gender euphoria’ like loving the body you’ve built and feel at home in.