Welcome to Ella and the City-a new column by Ella Snyder exploring the experiences of dating as a trans person in New York City today.
This narrative is part of Cosmopolitan’s celebration of the resilience, wisdom, hope, and joy within the trans community as its members navigate romantic relationships. Through personal essays and interviews, trans individuals share their journeys of dating, breaking up, and finding love amidst ongoing challenges to their personal safety and freedom of expression.
I first encountered anxiety in seventh grade. It was 2011, my inaugural year as Ella, and I was attending a new school with a new identity-name, pronouns, and wardrobe. The experience was both thrilling and terrifying. Mornings were filled with nausea and tears as I faced bullying that still lingers in my memory-my phone was stolen from my locker, and I received online death threats. My morning anxiety stretched into entire days, and although it has lessened over time, it still impacts me 14 years later.
Now, at 26, single, and often too anxious to leave my apartment, dating feels daunting. In a world where the trans community’s rights are under constant attack, even making eye contact or holding a conversation feels overwhelming.
The pandemic’s aftermath, coupled with Donald Trump’s 2024 reelection, reignited my fears and eroded my confidence. Constant exposure to hateful rhetoric can do that. My anxiety manifested as agoraphobia, making it difficult to leave my apartment without experiencing panic attacks. Simple tasks like grocery shopping or walking became impossible without a “safe person” by my side-whether a parent, friend, or roommate. I spent days feeling exhausted and dependent, striving to regain a sense of normalcy.
With my therapist’s guidance, a tailored medication regimen, and exposure therapy, I’ve learned to manage my anxiety. Gradually, I’ve progressed from short neighborhood walks to solo bus trips, increasing the challenge with each outing. Now, I can leave my house, work, socialize, and navigate my days without overwhelming anxiety. However, my dating life has suffered significantly.
Dating has become increasingly intimidating. Being told that I’m not a woman, or that my body is someone else’s choice, or that there are only “two genders” dampens my enthusiasm to meet new people. It’s exhausting to sift through dating apps filled with incompatible matches. The fear of how someone might react to my history in today’s political climate makes an already daunting process even scarier. At times, I felt incapable of pursuing it.
During my heightened anxiety, I questioned how I could find love when I couldn’t even step outside. I judged myself for wanting to be desired while feeling “unready.” The constant vigilance for red flags and the need to protect myself, researching every potential match to avoid hate crimes, didn’t help. I wondered if I subconsciously didn’t intend to meet anyone in real life, merely testing dating app algorithms from my couch to indulge in fantasy.
That changed when I met Sebastian on Instagram nine months ago. His worldly, mysterious, and Gatsby-like charm intrigued me. He played classical piano and spoke of studying in a zen monastery, and I felt I could learn from him. After considering every worst-case scenario, my desire to connect began to outweigh my fear. I wanted to show up for myself differently, to stop letting my world shrink. I felt ready to date, even if it meant facing fear head-on.
After weeks of canceling and rescheduling, Sebastian and I finally planned a casual neighborhood walk. If panic set in, I could easily return home.
On the day of our date, Sebastian postponed again. We agreed to meet the next day. When I texted him that morning and received no response, I feared he was ghosting me, my mind racing with anxiety. Was this karma for wasting time on dating apps when I wasn’t ready? Now that I was ready, surely being ghosted was my punishment!
When he finally contacted me a week later, he explained family issues had delayed him. We never met. Yet, this near-date with Sebastian sparked an irreversible change in me. Even though it didn’t work out, I didn’t let it deter me from putting myself out there. Months later, my desire to connect continues to transcend my fears. My dating app interactions are more intentional, and I’m open about being trans on my profiles. I’ve been going on dates in person, sometimes without rescheduling!
I still experience anxiety, but I can ground myself and recognize I’m safe. On dates, I focus on being present, asking questions, and truly listening. If nervousness arises, I monitor my breathing, recalling techniques from my worst anxiety periods. I list what I can see, smell, and hear, and focus on a neutral sensation, like my big toe. I remind myself that I’m strong and capable of more than my anxiety suggests.
Pre-date jitters persist, but I know I’m better off experiencing new opportunities and potential connections than canceling. Closing myself off never helped. I’d rather endure discomfort than miss out on love.
Name has been changed.
For a list of resources specific to the trans community, click here.