She was raised as a queer kid by nontraditional hippies. Now she just wants ‘a guy who will commit.’
A West Philly trans woman on navigating the apps and trying not to attract as many depressed artists and married men.
Shelley R. grew up as a gender-nonconforming kid, and she loves the queer and trans community she’s built in Philadelphia — where sometimes she can feel like the seventh wheel when it’s dinner time and the entire party leaves to go on a group date together.
But she’s also ready for something new in romance. Shelley, who The Inquirer is referring to by her first name and last initial because she doesn’t want her experience to reflect on her employer, is a “nontraditional person seeking normal love.”
A 31-year-old trans woman, she just wants a nice, monogamish boyfriend.
Raised by hippies in Boston who were devotees of New Age spirituality, Shelley was assigned male at birth, and as a teenager came out as gay.
As a young adult, she attended Hampshire College, a small, very progressive school in Western Massachusetts, where she started identifying as trans. After graduation, she moved to Philadelphia, where she underwent gender-affirming surgery as part of her transition. She describes herself now as a “post-op” trans woman, and told The Inquirer, “I’ve had all that work done. I am essentially the same as a cisgender woman in most of the ways that count, except for one big one: fertility.”
She now lives in West Philadelphia and is seeking what she describes as “typical love.”
“I just want a guy who will commit,” she said.
The following, as told to Zoe Greenberg in interviews and a letter, has been edited for length and clarity.
On being a “post-op” trans woman on the dating apps in Philly
If I don’t mention I’m trans on my profile, then I’ll get a lot of men who will immediately turn me down when they learn I’m trans, either due to prejudice or because they value being able to get their future wife pregnant. The “trans panic” can also be dangerous, if a man feels deceived. People get murdered or assaulted this way.
If I just mention that I’m trans on my profile, with no medical information, many will make incorrect assumptions about my genitals, which could be a deal-breaker for them one way or the other.
If I say I’m “post-op trans,” then I’m putting on my dating profile, “BY THE WAY, I HAVE A VAGINA!!!” which makes me come across as very focused on sex. Most men on dating apps already assume that no matter what I say I’m looking for, I’m looking for sex.
I think I might try putting, “I have a little secret, and I’ll tell you when you get to know me a little more.”
I’m only half-serious about that.
On attracting married men and depressed artists
Married men are strangely drawn to me. I’ve set a rule for myself: no more. They weren’t cheating, it was always an open marriage, and yet they all turned out to be quite close to divorce.
I attract a lot of depressed artists and activists seeking a manic pixie dream girl to experiment with. Breakup conversations with me often include things like, “I understand myself better now, and subsequently have decided to move to Iceland.”
Apparently dating me is a therapeutic journey.
On becoming an accidental role model for her crushes
I was on a little trip with my friends this weekend, and we met this guy from Central Pa. He was cute and he was nice, and I was flirting with him a little bit. Then we get back to Philly, and I got a text message from him that’s like, “You’re so cool and so amazing and so smart. You helped me realize I want to transition.”
That’s another common occurrence: people who date me not actually being interested in me as a person, just in getting to know any trans woman, so that they can figure out if they want to transition themselves. Roughly 50% of the men I’ve dated fall into this category.
On wanting a ‘more typical romance’
I was raised by hippies, I’ve been trans and gender-nonconforming my whole life. All my friends are queer, poly, trans, pansexual.
I’ve never had the choice to be in a monogamous, traditional relationship with a man. I’ve never had the choice to just be like, “This is my boyfriend. He loves me. We live together and we’re hosting a little board game night.”
I just want a romantic relationship, like what people have. I mean, a liberal-blue-state-normal relationship. If he was having a busy workday, I’d cook him a meal. Give him a little massage.
I’m a nontraditional person seeking normal love, and not a polycule. Because I’ve already done the polycule, and my polycule was a disaster.
This story is part of a new series about life partners across the Philadelphia area. See other stories in the series here and here.
If you want to share your story about who you’re navigating life with romantically or otherwise, write to lifepartners@inquirer.com. We won’t publish anything without speaking to you first.