As a trans woman, I understand how cathartic sharing coming-out stories can be. Reaching beyond ourselves to tackle systemic oppressions is the next step

Last Friday, 17 million people watched Bruce Jenner come out as a transgender woman. It was a moving interview, yet in many ways, it was all strikingly similar to the numerous other trans interviews most of us have seen before.

There are the usual questions about the trans person’s earliest memories and their various stages of gender exploration. This is usually followed by a host of inquiries about the steps they are planning to take (or have already taken) to transition to their identified gender: discussions about their coming out to family and friends, changes in dress and presentation, hormones and possibly other procedures, and so on.

We heard these same questions asked of Chaz Bono and Laura Jane Grace when they publicly came out as transgender. We heard them during high-profile interviews with Janet Mock and Jenny Finney Boylan when their bestselling memoirs were released.

It is so common for trans people to be compelled to provide such an account that the phenomenon has its own name: it’s called sharing your “trans narrative” – the story of how you went from being “born a boy” to “becoming a woman” (or vice versa).

As a trans woman myself, I understand the reasons why many choose to go along with it. Those narratives often counter the stereotypes that exist about us. It can also be cathartic to share your story with others, especially if you’ve had to keep it secret for years. It may help some people better understand our experiences, or help other trans folks realize that they are not alone.

When so many of us are misunderstood and ridiculed, trans narratives have the potential to humanize us, leading others to view us as sympathetic figures, or perhaps even courageous.

But there are many crucial aspects of trans lives that get overlooked in this process. For starters, not every transgender individual’s life journey fits the canonical “born one gender, transition to the other gender” mold. Many transgender people never transition, or do not identify within the gender binary (ie as either women or men), yet we rarely hear their stories.

Furthermore, there is far more to our lives than internal struggles with gender dysphoria.

We often have trouble obtaining basic legal documents and rights. The fact that we are trans often complicates our experiences during job interviews, in medical settings, or in everyday human interactions. Conservative political forces in several US states have increasingly pushed legislation that would make it either illegal or dangerous for trans people to use public restrooms (a fact some commentators have recently stressed given that Jenner also came out as Republican). Trans people, and especially trans people of color, disproportionately experience high levels of harassment and physical assault, workplace discrimination, unemployment, poverty and homelessness.

Many, including myself, feel that these are our community’s most pressing issues. Yet they get less airtime than the usual Jenner-type exposés.

Focusing on coming-outs also tends to erase the experiences of trans people who have already spent large portions of our lives being out as trans and/or living in our identified genders.

For instance, I transitioned back in 2001. I certainly remember my initial coming out, but it also feels like a lifetime ago. And unsurprisingly, my views about gender and trans issues have significantly evolved since then.

Fourteen years ago, my attitude was much like Jenner’s. I was fine with people temporarily referring to me by my birth name and using male pronouns, because the people in my life might need a little time to adjust. Like Jenner, I used humor to dispel potential discomfort and to express the seemingly surreal nature of my situation. I was patient with people and answered every single one of their questions, because I wanted to be understood and I hoped to change people’s minds.

I still hope to, but I am now in a different social situation. I’ve lived as a woman for well over a decade, yet I still encounter people who think that it’s OK to mis-gender me and use male pronouns upon finding out that I’m trans. While I still enjoy trans-themed humor, there is a huge chasm (for me, at least) between jokes that poke fun at trans people’s bodies and identities, and those that involve us mutually laughing at how ridiculous society’s rigid gender norms and expectations are.

While I am usually open to answering other people’s respectful questions, I cannot tell you how many times I’ve had people go into “inquisition mode”: asking me highly personal and sometimes inappropriate questions about my childhood, family reactions, sexuality, genitals and surgical history. These are questions straight out of publicized trans narratives, but which no one would ever dare ask of a non-transgender stranger.

I am not suggesting that Jenner was wrong for doing the interview, or that transgender coming-outs and transitions should never be covered. But I would most certainly encourage the media to cover a broader range of transgender perspectives, and to move beyond the inclination to turn every trans interview into a Transgender 101 Q&A.

Frankly, I think most audiences these days are ready for a little bit of Transgender 201 information.