Historically, drag was invented by trans women and trans men. Clearly, drag and transness are not mutually exclusive because there are plenty of trans people who perform in drag and do it very well. We are the forebears of this community, and everything cis men and women do as drag performers is well informed by what trans people created for them and the community spaces we foster with our art.
Drag is a queer performance art; it's a style, a makeup technique, a way of thinking about outdated gender norms, cruel social expectations, and, most importantly, it's representative of a rare platform for queer people who might otherwise not have a space to perform in.
Yes, I am a woman, a queer person, AND I am a drag artist. I also know plenty of cisgender women who do feminine drag, and I know trans men, nonbinary people, and trans women who perform in king drag, queen drag, and in genderless manifestations of raw creativity and self-expression. For many, it's about exaggerating a character, about taking a part of our personalities and inflating it to the max to say something, or live out a part of ourselves we were told we weren't allowed to embody. For that matter, the vast majority of allegedly cisgender drag queens I know either come out eventually or experience gender on the nonbinary spectrum. The idea that drag is a caricature of womanhood is, frankly, an outdated perspective that is largely informed by the fact that cis gay men dominate drag by sheer number and because we are a smaller community.
If you must wrap your head around it, the difference between me in and out of drag is much the same as a showgirl, burlesque performer, and a singer who uses a pseudonym or exaggerated character through which to engage in their craft. I have a stage character, and I perform through the context of drag spaces that are all very well represented by the trans community.
You think Dolly Parton isn't a drag queen? Well she is, which is something she has said herself. Chappell Roan; a drag queen. Lady Gaga? You guessed it, a drag queen. These are all cis women who express themselves through a hyperfeminine character on stage.
The way I present myself in my daily life is simple, toned down, professional, and adjusted for complex social expectations. I'm not about to put on a rhinestoned miniskirt to go grocery shopping. But the way I present myself when performing is boisterous, loud, colorful, and, yes, over the top. She's fun, free, irreverent, creative, and unapologetically joyful.
The core ethos of drag is simply adopting a character for the stage and living out queer joy. Trans women certainly have a unique experience with drag and operating within queer spaces as such. In fact, many of us use the art of drag to explore our femininity and find parts of ourselves once locked away by a society that constantly tells us that our very existence is wrong and reinforces some problematic idea that's far out of our control. Ultimately, I have no control over the fact that some people think my existence in and out of character reinforces some negative stereotype or preconceived notion about who I am or what it means to be trans. My character is designed to play with that expectation, to hit a nail on the head, and challenge everything I was told I should or shouldn't be. My drag is a protest against the idea that my very existence is harmful.
No matter how I present myself, someone sees it as a costume. Why not fuck with their expectations a little and enjoy myself in the process?
Drag is an expansive, inclusive art form that vastly transcends outdated definitions and rigid boundaries enforced upon us by a society that doesn’t respect trans people or drag as a concept in the first place. For many trans folks, myself certainly included, drag represents a rare space of liberation, creativity, and self-expression, as well as a way to reclaim and celebrate the many facets of ourselves that society often tries like hell to suppress. While it’s valid to feel triggered by certain aspects of drag, it’s also important to recognize that drag is not inherently a caricature of womanhood; it’s a multifaceted queer performance art that reflects our individuality, the progression and embracing of queer joy, and resistance to being forced into a box.
We as trans people navigate a world that often seeks to undermine our identities and our very right to exist, and drag serves as a powerful tool to push back against that cultural framework, challenge the norms of a culture that doesn’t respect us anyway, and live life as our most authentic selves. It’s not about simply reinforcing stereotypes, it’s about breaking them, finding true freedom in the process, and inviting others around us who revel in our art to do the same.
If drag challenges your perspectives or concepts of transness and womanhood, I encourage you to approach it with curiosity and empathy, recognizing it as a deeply personal and transformative art form for those who embrace it. For me, drag is not just a performance, a character, or a funny stage name — it’s life-affirming joy.
