Blaire White was one of the first trans people I ever saw online.
I was a teenager in Western New York, in a town where nobody was out. YouTube was how I learned that transition existed—watching Maya Henry’s vlogs, NikkieTutorials’ makeup videos, Gigi Gorgeous documenting her life. Contrapoints came later. And somewhere in that mix, I found Blaire White.
I didn’t agree with her politics. Even then, I knew we weren’t on the same team. But she was visibly trans, living her life on camera, and that meant something. In a place where I had no examples, any example mattered.
Last week, the Washington Post published a profile of Blaire White. The reporter asked me for a comment. I could have declined. I could have used the opportunity to list grievances—the years she’s spent mocking other trans people, dismissing concerns about anti-trans legislation, providing cover for politicians who want us gone.
Instead, I said this: “The fact is that for a lot of right-wing audiences, that’s going to be their first exposure to the idea that there are people who transition successfully and live their lives.”
That’s not an endorsement. It’s just true.
The Morgan Page Rule
A few months ago, I wrote about adopting the Morgan Page Rule: the principle that trans people should try to avoid criticizing each other in public, because the world does it enough already. Keep your guns pointed outward.
That doesn’t mean ignoring harm. It means being strategic about where and how we engage. The Post profile was going to run with or without me. The question was whether I’d say something useful or just hand the right another clip of trans people fighting.
I chose to tell the truth: that Blaire’s visibility, whatever else it’s done, has introduced conservative audiences to the idea that trans people exist and live normal lives. For some viewers, she might be the only trans person they’ve ever watched willingly.
Breaking Bread with the Bros
The Post profile is full of evidence that this exposure matters. When Blaire appeared on Joe Rogan’s podcast, the two seemed to agree that conservatives were unduly obsessed with trans people. “It’s the dumbest value to concentrate on,” Rogan said. Her 2018 “debate” with Ben Shapiro was, by the Post’s account, “more of a friendly chat”—Shapiro told her, “You’re not trying to leap through the camera and strangle me.” Even Alex Jones told her on Infowars: “Your bones look like a woman.”
These aren’t exactly ringing endorsements of trans rights. But they’re something. When Alex Jones is complimenting a trans woman’s bone structure instead of calling her a predator, that’s a shift—however small, however conditional—in what his audience sees as possible.
Blaire frames herself as an ambassador. “Someone has to bridge the gap,” she told the Post. “Someone has to be the trans woman sitting across from Joe Rogan breaking bread, because if it’s not me, then that means that bridge is never, ever connected.”
I don’t love everything about that framing. But I can’t say she’s wrong.
What Grace Requires
Rep. Sarah McBride made a related argument in her June interview with Ezra Klein. She talked about a politics of “grace”—meeting people where they are, creating room for disagreement. You can’t change people if you exclude them. Movements grow by conversion, not purity.
Ashley St. Clair is a case study. Last week, the former Turning Point USA influencer—who wrote an anti-trans children’s book—sat down with Matt Bernstein on “A Bit Fruity” to apologize. She said she feels “immense guilt” for the pain she caused, including to Elon Musk’s trans daughter Vivian Wilson—her own son’s half-sister.
The right turned on her immediately. Musk announced he’d file for full custody. The movement she spent years building tried to destroy her the moment she showed a crack.
Is her conversion convenient? Obviously. She reconsidered after Grok generated deepfakes of her, after Musk cut her off, after she faced eviction. But I’m less interested in why people change than in whether they do.
Keeping the Door Open
I’ve written before about choosing which battles to fight. I can’t force anyone to see me the way I want to be seen. I can’t force Blaire White to change her politics or conservatives to stop watching her. What I can control is whether my words add signal or noise.
This is actually a good time to grow the movement. Trump’s overall approval is underwater. Nearly half of Americans think politicians shouldn’t be focused on trans issues at all. Majorities support trans people serving in the military and oppose bans on youth healthcare. We lost ground in 2024, but the backlash to overreach is already building. The question is whether we’ll be ready to welcome people when they come around.
So I’ll keep my guns pointed outward. And I’ll remember that kid in Western New York, scrolling YouTube, looking for proof that people like her existed.
She found it. Somebody else might, too.



I definitely agree with what you said to WaPo.
I have misgivings about “grace” and “soft landings”. I mean sure, let’s not brand people as being marked for life because they once held bigoted beliefs.
But I don’t think we owe anyone grace, nor do I think we should make change an easy process. We have to ensure that giving up bigoted beliefs involves re-examining their entire worldview. Otherwise we risk people mixing and matching bigoted and non-bigoted beliefs. Or it may just mean adopting a more moderate transphobia.
I think a lot of people who are turning against Trump are taking an attitude of “I just wanted him to hurt trans people, not just me.”
This is a very real problem for the left. I think this very phenomenon is part of the reason many Democrats are moving right on trans rights.