AskTransgender

What

Hating people is bad.

No.

You see, there is someone that answered that hating people is bad and this person completely missed a point. Because it's not just a matter of simple hate. These things have roots in society that affects people's lives.

It's the whole thing about, like, antiwhite racism and so on. The reason why people say that white racism doesn't exist is because it doesn't fundamentally affect white people's lives. No one is being discriminated against because they are white. No one is suffering from their status as a white person.

Another example is misandry. Misandry is not a thing. Men are not suffering as a societal group because of the oppression they are receiving from women. That is simply not a thing.

Being a trans person and being openly trans in a transphobic society, you will inevitably start to feel resentment towards cis people. And that is not a you problem to fix. It's their fault, it's their problem, it's their society that is built to be fundamentally against everything that you are. It isn't something that you have to fix yourself. You are not doing anything wrong.

I am white, so I can't really talk about my experience with racism, however, I can talk about my experience with anti-racist activists, who expressed to me these kinds of feelings, that even as an ally that tries her best, it's still hard for them, and I still have deep rooted racism within me, and that is something that I have to accept, even if it makes me. I can and I will never know what it's like to be them. To suffer from the oppression they're suffering. To have to deal with being non-white in a society that is so deeply rooted in whiteness.

However, I am a trans feminine person. I'm a trans woman. And yes, I have a deep resentment towards cis people. I have a really deep resentment towards men, and sometimes I would, I will even say that I hate men. And yet, nothing is happening.

Because me saying that I have resentment for cis people, at best, hurts their feeling. Meanwhile, they are gatekeeping my access to medical care, taking away my rights, destroying my life. When I say that I hate men, I get a bunch of guys whining that it's not all men, blah blah blah. Meanwhile, I get sexually harassed. I get followed home. I have to watch over my shoulder in the street. I have to make sure that I have my best and most feminine voice on hand whenever one of them talk to me out of fear that they might clock me as trans and send me to the hospital.

One gets their feefees hurt. The other gets their right taken away and their bodily autonomy removed from them.

There is no such thing as cisphobia, there is no such thing as heterophobia, just like there is no such thing as misandry, and no such thing as anti-white racism.

What makes it worse is power imbalance, op. It'll be "as bad" once half the world is queer, and worse after that

Really though society isn't homogenous and you'll find situations when you're in the minority no matter who you are. I've been ostracized as a fag in Tulsa (vaguely feminine, not hitting on drunk girls) and cis scum in Seattle (telling a dude to quit grabbing my ass). You can find plenty of hateful screeds about perverts or breeders if you go looking, my advice would be don't, those people all suck

But to roll back some of that nuance, it's 2026 and the world's most powerful government is trying to put trans people in camps so no op, that's definitely worse, not even the same kind of problem

I think anyone would know that the power dynamic and situation between cis and trans people and the context of transphobia in society is not one in which bias against cis people is a real concern, so it's unclear where your question is coming from - is it a theoretical question about whether a bias is somehow innately wrong on principle?

Assuming you're not a troll, or your question is sincere, here's the closest thing I can think of in terms of bias against straight and cis people:

The majority of my experiences as a trans activist and spoken word artist have taken place in what is increasingly becoming known as the “queer/trans” community. It is a subgroup within the greater LGBTIQ community that is composed mostly of folks in their twenties and thirties who are more likely to refer to themselves as “dykes,” “queer,” and/or “trans” than “lesbian” or “gay.” While diverse in a number of ways, this subpopulation tends to predominantly inhabit urban and academic settings, and is skewed toward those who are white and/or from middle-class backgrounds. In many ways, the queer/trans community is best described as a sort of marriage of the transgender movement’s call to “shatter the gender binary” and the lesbian community’s pro-sex, pro-kink backlash to 1980s-era Andrea Dworkinism. Its politics are generally antiassimilationist, particularly with regard to gender and sexual expression. This apparent limitlessness and lack of boundaries lead many to believe that “queer/trans” represents the vanguard of today’s gender and sexual revolution. However, over the last four years in which I’ve been a part of this community, I’ve become increasingly troubled by a trend that, while not applicable to all queer/trans folks, seems to be becoming a dominant belief in this community, one that threatens to restrict its gender and sexual diversity. I call this trend subversivism.

Subversivism is the practice of extolling certain gender and sexual expressions and identities simply because they are unconventional or nonconforming. In the parlance of subversivism, these atypical genders and sexualities are “good” because they “transgress” or “subvert” oppressive binary gender norms.1 The justification for the practice of subversivism has evolved out of a particular reading (although some would call it a misreading) of the work of various influential queer theorists over the last decade and a half. To briefly summarize this popularized account: All forms of sexism arise from the binary gender system. Since this binary gender system is everywhere—in our thoughts, language, traditions, behaviors, etc.—the only way we can overturn it is to actively undermine the system from within. Thus, in order to challenge sexism, people must “perform” their genders in ways that bend, break, and blur all of the imaginary distinctions that exist between male and female, heterosexual and homosexual, and so on, presumably leading to a systemwide binary meltdown. According to the principles of subversivism, drag is inherently “subversive,” as it reveals that our society’s binary notions of maleness and femaleness are not natural, but rather are actively “constructed” and “performed” by all of us. Another way that one can be “transgressively gendered” is by identifying as genderqueer or genderfluid—i.e., refusing to identify fully as either woman or man. The notion that certain gender identities and expressions are inherently “subversive” or “transgressive” can be seen throughout the queer/trans community, where drag and gender-bending are routinely celebrated, where binary-confounding identities such as “boy-identified-dyke” and “pansexual trannyfag” have become rather commonplace. On the surface, subversivism gives the appearance of accommodating a seemingly infinite array of genders and sexualities, but this is not quite the case. Subversivism does have very specific boundaries; it has an “other.” By glorifying identities and expressions that appear to subvert or blur gender binaries, subversivism automatically creates a reciprocal category of people whose gender and sexual identities and expressions are by default inherently conservative, even “hegemonic,” because they are seen as reinforcing or naturalizing the binary gender system. Not surprisingly, this often-unspoken category of bad, conservative genders is predominantly made up of feminine women and masculine men who are attracted to the “opposite” sex.

One routinely sees this “dark side” of subversivism rear its head in the queer/trans community, where it is not uncommon to hear individuals critique or call into question other queers or trans folks because their gender presentation, behaviors, or sexual preferences are not deemed “subversive” enough. Indeed, if one fails to sufficiently distinguish oneself from heterosexual feminine women and masculine men, one runs the risk of being accused of “reinforcing the gender binary,” an indictment that is tantamount to being called a sexist. One of the most common targets of such critiques are transsexuals, and particularly those who are heterosexual and gender-normative post-transition. Indeed, because such transsexuals (in the eyes of others) transition from a seemingly “transgressive” queer identity to a “conservative” straight one, subversivists may even claim that they have transitioned in order to purposefully “assimilate” themselves into straight culture. While these days, such accusations are often couched in the rhetoric of current queer theory, they rely on many of the same mistaken assumptions that plagued the work of cissexist feminists like Janice Raymond and sociologists like Thomas Kando decades ago.2

The practice of subversivism also negatively impacts trans people on the MTF spectrum. After all, in our culture, the meanings of “bold,” “rebellious,” and “dangerous”—adjectives that often come to mind when considering subversiveness—are practically built into our understanding of masculinity. In contrast, femininity conjures up antonyms like “timid,” “conventional,” and “safe,” which seem entirely incompatible with subversion. Therefore, despite the fact that the mainstream public tends to be more concerned and disturbed by MTF spectrum trans people than their FTM spectrum counterparts, subversivism creates the impression that trans masculinities are inherently “subversive” and “transgressive,” while their trans feminine counterparts are “lame” and “conservative” in comparison. Subversivism’s privileging of trans masculinities over trans femininities helps to explain why cissexual queer women and FTM spectrum folks tend to dominate the queer/trans community: Their exceptional gender expressions and identities are routinely empowered and encouraged in such settings. In contrast, there is generally a dearth of MTF spectrum folks who regularly inhabit queer/trans spaces.3

from "The Future of Queer/Trans Activism" in Whipping Girl by Julia Serano