Welcome to Trans Tuesday! Last year I did something I’d kind of wanted to do for my entire life, but it felt closed off to me. But now it wasn’t. And what I found was something truly remarkable. This is about RADICAL TRANS ACCEPTANCE. But it’s also about ROLLER DERBY.
Let me start by saying that this topic is not the same thing that I talked about in WHAT REAL CIS ACCEPTANCE LOOKS LIKE. They’re related, and if you’re cis, that one will give you a good frame of reference on where to start. But radical trans acceptance goes to a new level entirely.
I’ve mentioned this in a lot of these essays, most notably in BODY HACKING, but I’ve always been into sports and, for a long time now, exercising. It was the first thing I did to start my transition and make my body feel like it was mine.
I mean… look! (go ahead, I’m proud!)
I’ve worked really hard for a really long time to build strength and make my body look like that. I don’t say this to brag (though I am super proud!), but so you know that this is something that’s been really important to me.
I was really into sports as a kid, and that alone was one of the (many) reasons I struggled to understand my transness. Yes yes girls can like sports, but boys are “supposed to,” and the entire world told me I was a boy. So if I liked a thing boys were supposed to like… I must be a boy, right? Nevermind all those things “for girls” that I also liked, nobody could ever know about those! To be a perceived boy who likes girly things is to be mocked and punished by society, by your family, by your friends. THE FALSE DICHOTOMY is insidious.
But here’s the thing about sports, especially when you participate in them as a perceived boy: regardless of how much you like the sport itself, the culture around it is almost invariably toxic. It’s kind of a nightmare.
You’re ridiculed if you don’t know something about the sport, you’re made fun of if you’re not great at the sport, you’re derided by your fellow athletes and even your coaches if you’re not just holy crap the best there ever was. It was fucking awful.
I was on the track and cross-country teams for a few years in high school, and the head coach, one of the school’s PE teachers, mocked me for being slow. Never mind I had undiagnosed asthma, never mind I had knee problems. I came in last in every race and that meant I was terrible and worthy of mockery.
I switched high schools after my sophomore year because my family moved, and my experiences in sports at the first school were so bad that I didn’t join any at my new high school. One of my friends at my old school, who was still on the track and cross-country teams after I left, said the coach used to yell at whoever was coming in last, “Don’t be a Bridges!”
How could any kid not like that, right? It’s a mystery.
I tried out for my first high school’s baseball team, and despite wildly different conditions that nobody had ever played baseball in before, I was summarily cut after one ten second drill I had no hope of completing. I talked more about that in THE FALSE DICHOTOMY so do read that if you haven’t yet.
I might have tried out for my second high school’s volleyball team… if they had one. They did not! And my first school only had volleyball for girls, and nobody knew I was one, so I couldn’t access that either.
You see this same toxic culture around sports (which is invariably wrapped up in toxic masculinity) in every professional men’s sport there is. Coaches yell at players, players routinely mock and deride opponents… seeing respect for both the people on your team and your opponents, and for the sport itself, is so rare. When I’d see players from different teams being kind and respectful of each other it’d almost make me tear up. It shouldn’t be rare! It shouldn’t be that way!
What I’m getting at is while I very much loved a lot of sports, it sure seemed like sports didn’t love me.
I don’t know if girls’ sports in high school (or younger) are less toxic. I hope they are, but that’s an experience I just didn’t get to have.
That’s a whole lot of set up to get you to this point: I’d always thought roller derby looked cool as fuck (and that’s because it is). But it is, generally, not something you think of cis men participating in.
There may be some leagues that expressly forbid it, I don’t know, but there are some where cis dudes are allowed. But even then, they’re the vast minority. It is mostly seen as a “women’s sport,” and for the same reasons of toxic masculinity, that alone is going to keep a lot of cis men away.
It didn’t start out that way, but changed after it came back into popularity.
…the sport disappeared in the late 1970s, before women in Austin, Texas, revived derby in the early 2000s. And while pre-revival derby included both men and women’s teams, post-revival derby centred around women. Last year in Autostraddle, Gabrielle Grace Hogan termed derby “a sport with no true male equivalent, where the women’s leagues are the leagues.”
And the fact that the sport’s resurgence has been driven by, overseen by, and run by women is, I think, why it’s as inclusive as it is now.
…derby’s status as an underground, feminist sport, means that it attracts misfits. …many of their fellow skaters, who talk about not fitting into gym classes, or feeling uncomfortable in single-gender sports. … Queer people historically flocked to derby, which developed a reputation as an LGBTQ2S+-friendly sport. Indeed, derby names—the often-cocky, always-playful alter egos adopted by derby players—were inspired by drag queens and their drag names.
In fact, derby leagues have even sued state governments over their transphobic laws excluding trans women from participating in women’s sports!
A New York county’s law banning transgender women from playing on female sports teams at county-run parks and recreational facilities has been halted for now.
A state appeals court on Wednesday barred Nassau County from enforcing the ban while a legal challenge brought on behalf of a local women’s roller derby league plays out.
Can you imagine if a sport with more visibility and money behind it had done this? What the impact of, say, the WNBA doing this would be? Dang. Now imagine the impact of the MNBA or any men’s league doing it! And why does the men’s sport not have to mention gender? So I’m gonna call ‘em the MNBA, because THERE IS NO DEFAULT TYPE OF HUMAN.
But the WNBA and MNBA, and all the other pro sports, have corporate interests and backers likely pressuring them to not “be political” under threat of losing sponsorships and funding. And this is also part of what makes roller derby different, because it’s not a giant corporation.
There is a roller derby world cup, but it’s put on by a magazine and full of amateur players because there’s no such thing as professional roller derby. There’s the WFTDA (Women’s Flat Track Derby Association) that sets the rules and regulations for member leagues… but that’s it. Roller derby is just 1250 independent amateur leagues, and each basically runs themselves.
Every roller derby league is different, and invariably there are some who aren’t great about inclusion, but largely it’s incredibly queer and trans accepting. I knew that going in… or I thought I did. But I really wasn’t prepared for the actuality of it.
But last summer a good friend of mine had gotten some info about our local derby league, and they had a training session coming up that ran once a week, from August to December. She said she was gonna give it a go, and asked if I wanted to join her. I may have mentioned my interest in it at some point prior.
And I was instantly kind of thrilled at the idea, but also scared. Because I’d had such rough experiences in sports before, and also I’d never participated in any since coming out as trans. I’d never gotten to play any sport as me.
I also hadn’t been on skates since I was a kid, and I had no safety gear. But the league has loaner gear people can use for as long as it takes them to get their own, and they were open to people of all skill levels… even people who’d never skated before.
And see, right there, I was shocked at how different that was. No sport I’d ever encountered in my life welcomed new folks with literally zero ability, at least not once you’re more than five years old.
But alllllllso, so many people will say they “welcome people of any skill level,” and they don’t really mean it. They just want to seem welcoming. It’s akin to PERFORMATIVE ALLYSHIP and FALSE ALLYSHIP, although I literally worried about that too. Because how welcoming would they really be to a 6’1” muscular trans woman?
See TRANS SPORTS 1: ORIGINS AND “ADVANTAGES” and TRANS SPORTS 2: SCIENCE AND BIGOTRY if you’re unfamiliar with how the world at large treats the very idea of a trans woman playing a sport.
And here’s a full-contact sport where cis women and trans women play together, and we’re accepted?! The hell you say.
I went to the first session, when it was like 90 degrees outside… in makeup.
I normally only wear makeup for me, when I want to. But I will also wear it anytime I’m going to meet new people, in the hopes it helps them gender me correctly. See MISGENDERING AND PASSING for more on that.
Some people wear makeup to derby all the time! That’s cool. But that’s not something I would generally do, because I sweat like if my body does not expel all this moisture right now I will surely drown. I’m like a waterfall.
I was so scared, honestly. I only knew one other person there, my friend who invited me. And I was sure I would be the least skilled person on skates. And maybe one of only two trans people! I was honestly wracked with anxiety.
And best way to convey to you how it went was:
I went back again the following week. Without any makeup on.
There had to be at least as many trans and queer people there (including the coaches) as there were cishet people. Honestly, it was probably more. Trans/nonbinary people and queer people seemed to be… the majority? Is that even possible?
It sure as fuck was, friends.
And they were the most supportive, kindest, welcoming group of people I’ve maybe ever met.
Nobody yelled at you or made fun of you for things you couldn’t do. Nobody said you were so bad you’d better just quit. Though I was certifiably terrible, nobody once said I shouldn’t be there, or that I was a disgrace to the sport.
I’m one of (if not the) tallest person in the entire class of newbies (“freshies”). I’m very visibly trans.
Nobody said I didn’t belong there, or had an unfair advantage. Nobody made me feel like this was something I couldn’t do, despite the fact that after that first session I actually thought to myself… there’s no way I will ever be able to do this.
But the vibes were so impeccable, and I had so much fun, that I wanted to keep going (despite how many times I fell and all the terrible bruises that would ruin my sleep for a week). Because here’s the thing…
They made me feel like they would definitely help me improve if I worked at it, but also (and maybe more importantly?) even if I never improved or got any better at all, I was still welcome. This large lumbering trans woman who wouldn’t know dexterity if it flipped over and slapped her in the face, was truly welcome there.
Regardless of my skill. Regardless of my size. Regardless of my gender.
There are people in this derby league of every skill level. The people have a wide variety of genders, body types, ages, ethnicities, and more. It’s the most inclusive space I’ve ever been in, and quite possibly the most supportive one, too.
Nobody yelled at me if I got overheated during 95 degree practices and needed to sit in the shade to cool for a minute. Nobody stops you from getting water whenever you need it. Nobody says “wow this really isn’t for you.”
The coaches pushed me out of my comfort zone, which I needed, but they did it with kindness and support. They taught me things I never thought I could understand, and they helped lessen my frustration with compassion. They’d stop me before going out on the rink and fasten my helmet for me if I’d forgotten to, to make sure I was safe.
The first thing they teach you is actually how to fall safely. And they’ll never put you in a dangerous situation (like in a derby bout with people much more advanced than you). Safety is a huge priority.
I stayed through the whole freshie session, worked as hard as I could in the limited time I have (we are just so busy over here). I even picked my derby name: Captain Painway! As a huge Trekkie and one half of the team writing the Star Trek Voyager: Homecoming comic, it was too good to pass up. My friend Richard actually mentioned the name to me years ago and said if I ever did derby, that should so obviously be my derby name. And he was perfectly correct.
And at the end of the session… all the freshies got to play in our first-ever real roller derby bout.
The coaches made the teams, breaking us up into somewhat even groups based on skill level, height, etc. I was on the Milky Way Maulers, and I was… well really excited, but also nervous as all fuck. But I could not wait to get into an actual bout, because I’d not gotten to compete at any sport since high school, and since never as myself.
Derby players make signs with their name and numbers to hang on the rink during bouts they’re in. Here’s mine! (made with a lot of help from my lovely wife Susan)
See, it looks like the top of a Voyager Starfleet uniform, only with pink instead and red and hearts instead of rank pips… I am a Very Large varietal of Nerd.
The bout was livestreamed, and I had friends watching from all over the country! One of them took a screengrab during my intro:
I’ve got a lot of great photos from the game, because there’s a pro photographer who often comes to these to get shots during bouts, so let’s see ‘em! Photos by @oldhcdude on insta!
I’m not gonna get into all the rules of the game here, but each team votes to give awards to players from the opposing team. And somehow… I won most valuable jammer?! (in any photo where you see a star on my helmet, I was the jammer… the only person who can score points for a team during a jam).
I don’t understand how this is possible?! I felt like I struggled so much in my first jam, which I also spent 30 seconds of in the penalty box! (this penalty was later contested and the coaches had to confer with the refs, it was a whole thing)
Look! It’s a little stuffed astronaut to go with the bout’s space theme?!
There’s even a video of them announcing my win. You can see my total and entire shock! (and the way I tower over everyone else standing there, that’s some trans girl reality for you)
And people watching on my discord even got me a Bout Shout (little messages the announcer says during the game and a little note you get after)! My heart.
A week after this bout, we had our final evaluations. And despite winning MVJ for my team, I… tanked them. I was just awful. And I’m frustrated and annoyed that I’m not better than I am, but the coaches were nothing but supportive in letting me know I still have to work on my balance and my leg strength and I need to take the freshie class again.
This is actually fairly normal. One of the coaches said she had to take it twice. It just takes the time it takes, and that’s different for all of us. A lot of my freshie class will be taking it again right along with me. And some advanced!
And even if I never make it to an A level team, or even the B or C teams, even if I somehow end up stuck as a freshie for life… I don’t care. And neither does anyone else! I mean the coaches are wonderful and want to help you improve, and they are! My point is just there’s no pressure about it, from any angle, and that’s so wonderfully refreshing.
2025 was so emotionally difficult due to all the increasing legislative transphobia, and derby saved me. It gave me a couple hours every week where I had to focus so hard on what I was doing that I literally could not worry about, much less even think about, all the other horrors in the world.
It let my nervous system reset. It made me feel welcome and supported.
It made me feel at home.
And now I’m determined to get better. I’m carving out more time from my week to go and practice skills on my own, because I know I need it. And because in one freshie session, this has gone from a fun thing I did once a week to something that’s really important to me. And I wanna Git Gud.
If you want to follow my “in character” reports of each derby practice and sort of chart my progress, you can see them on my Bluesky (view by “Latest” and you can see them in reverse chronological order). I’ll also update this essay over time, with milestones as I achieve them.
But in the background on a lot of those photos from the bout, do you see what’s behind us? If you go back to the pic of me waving during my introduction, you can see all of them together up at the top of the pic, hanging from the fence around the skating rink.
It’s a row of motherfucking pride flags.
I didn’t ask them to hang those up. Nobody did. Just as part of setting up the rink for the event, the league itself chose to hang all those pride flags on the rink. Facing not just the derby track, but all the spectators who were sitting on the other half of the rink to watch the derby bouts.
Do you even realize how radical that is? Like, it shouldn’t be! This should just be how it is, to show you accept, support, and welcome people of all genders and orientations.
When was the last time you saw any professional sport that did this? The closest we usually get is one “Pride night” or something, and that’s it (and those reek of RAINBOW CAPITALISM).
Yes, my league (SFV Roller Derby) sells stickers and shirts and merch in trans pride colors… but they sell it all year round. They hang these pride flags at every event. And, most importantly, the league is full of actual trans and nonbinary people.
I mean look at this, right from the front page of their website!
It goes even further, because I’ve discovered there are some leagues that SFVRD won’t play… because those leagues are full of TERFs. Which just goes to show you bad people are everywhere and not all derby leagues are this inclusive, even if many or most are.
But they won’t play any leagues or teams that are not trans-inclusive. Because that supports and condones trans exclusion, and also because it’s not safe for trans SFVRD members.
This is, again, radical, even though it should be the norm.
SFVRD shows they’ve got my back, and the backs of every single person who joins. They don’t care if you’re trans or cis, experienced or new, short or tall, fat or thin, old or young. They support everyone.
There are a lot of trans women and nonbinary folks in roller derby. There are trans men in roller derby, too! In fact one of them was in my Freshie class at SFVRD and we became friends! His name’s Theo, and he’s my guest on the podcast version of this essay!
And, largely, it’s the entire sport that’s like this. Remember the WFTDA, the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association? On January 19, 2026, they posted the following to their Instagram account:
How huge is that?! Like… holy shit. A simple, kind act that will mean so much to so many, and it comes from a place of wanting people to feel included. And they want trans and nonbinary people to help ensure it’s done right, and not only mentioned that cis people exist, but that there were plenty of them on the committee already.
All of sports, and in fact the entire world, should be paying attention. Learn the lesson.
And I want to take a second to send a very special thanks to my SFV instructors, Nova, Tati, and Xena, each of whom helped me in different ways, and were the best coaches a lady could ever ask for.
I don’t know if your local roller derby league is one of the good ones, but if everything I’ve talked about in any way sounds intriguing to you, you owe it to yourself to find out. Regardless of your skill, experience, age, race, gender, body type, or transness.
In a world that is so openly hostile to trans people, especially trans women, it is truly the platonic ideal of radical acceptance.
And it has changed my life for the better.
Tilly Bridges, end transmission.
tillysbridges@gmail.com
