180+ Transgender Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. The best new works by transgender authors, for readers seeking trans representation and beautifully written stories alike.

🏆 Winning stories

“World Got Smaller” by Yves. ♙

🏆 Winner of Contest #5

“And now Ben’s coming to the wedding with—I don’t know, some girl from Facebook, and I’m going to look like an idiot going alone. Because I am an idiot. Because I’m the one who dumped him. Christ, I’m an idiot.” Charlie groans and falls over onto the bed. 

113 likes 51 comments 51

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⭐️ Recommended stories

“dysphoria's love letter.” by Parker Adams

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #101

CW: transphobia When she cries, you try to ignore her.    It’s hard. Granted, most people don’t like hearing young girls cry but you have no other choice: Nothing you can do will ever make her stop. She has been crying for as long as you can remember, determined to remind you of the things you did. Of course, you’re the cause for her crying, aren’t you? Who else would listen to a young girl cry until she was nothing more than the melody that allows you to sleep every night?

92 likes 8 comments 8

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“The Door on the Left” by Ari Masters

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #95

Micah remembers what happened the first time he picked the door on the left.He tried not to go during school usually, but this had been an emergency. As he approached, he saw there was a line, and panicked. He decided to do another loop of the hallway instead. When he made it back, there was no one around. He walked towards the door on the right out of habit, then paused. He was already late to class; another minute to think wouldn’t hurt. His eyes flipped from door to door. Maybe he could just hold it. No, he needed to ...

75 likes 18 comments 18

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“Bigger Than The Light” by A.Dot Ram

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #92

The Isis Lounge has a real dressing room mirror—the kind outlined with a blaze of bare bulbs. That’s one of the things I like about it. To me, it just screams professionalism with 1500 watts. It shows respect for the performers. It doesn’t matter so much that here backstage we have fans heaving through summer nights, trying to breathe some fresh air into the old building, or that, in the fall, shimmering termite wings dust the vanity when I arrive. The place smells like vodka and old pan stick and even older sheet music—sixty years of nig...

96 likes 49 comments 49

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✍️ All stories

“Twixt Heaven and Hell” by Jon Little

Submitted to Contest #244

PAULThey softly trace the line of my jaw. "You should go on more business trips.""Why? You got something going on the side when I'm gone?"Oof. Charlie's playful jab to my gut is going to leave a mark."When you get back, you tend to be ... more energetic." Charlie's dark sultry eyes sparkle."I think the word you are looking for is, randy."They put their lips close to my ear, their warm and moist breath just below my earlobe succeeds in getting Charlie the desired physical response. "The word I am looking for is ... again."My eyes light up. "W...

7 likes 0 comments 0

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“Coffee Stained. ” by Will T

Submitted to Contest #241

“Control yourself.” Bells rung outside, the church’s procession beginning amidst the graveyard, “Myself? What about all of you? You said you loved me. You promised.” “Of course I love you! You believe your own mother and father don’t love you? You’re nothing but selfish! We love you; we do not love this ‘problem-child’ you’re choosing to be.” “You love an idealised version!” His hand struck out and caught the cup on the table, smashing the coffee against the wall. His father’s eyes flickered with anger, but Martin’s ...

10 likes 5 comments 5

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“Unconditional” by Denise Glickler

Submitted to Contest #240

In the fading light, the Florida streets buzzed with life. Long shadows danced on the pavement, animated by the setting sun. Amidst the jostle, one figure stood stark, a man with the weight of his world showing in his eyes. John Richardson was his name, a man known for his adamantine beliefs. His life had always been defined by structure, order, Christianity, and staunch predictability. But that changed when his only son...

17 likes 2 comments 2

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“Baby Butch” by D. Grimes

Submitted to Contest #239

TW: transphobia Zee tucked their white tee into their Wranglers, slipped a sliver carabiner through their front belt loop, and put on their Tims. They slicked back their crew cut with a light pomade and evaluated themselves in the mirror. Was the look too casual? Too stereotypical? Maybe it'd be obvious that Zee didn’t know what they were doing, but it was probably too late to change.Zee checked their phone. 2:35 PM. 99% battery. A text from Lyla.See you soon! Parking can be a nightmare. I’ll wait for you...

10 likes 1 comment 1

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“Me and Everyone's Voice” by Olive Helm

Submitted to Contest #239

The rain was rising from the puddles, which makes it hard to avoid getting wet. I tend to stay along the paths that were never rained on to begin with or spaces that were already dry again. Good thing it’s an unusually warm spring, so most of the water dries away before it can climb to the sky again. Still, it will most likely rain tomorrow if this continues. Like ...

8 likes 1 comment 1

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“Window to the Heart” by Jennifer Newton

Submitted to Contest #239

(Contains themes of depression and an instance of eye horror.) Forty-five degrees. A right angle. Inversion, and then reflection. Her fingers clutched the canvas and stained its spines in a panoply of hues as she twisted the angles, attempting to make sense of what she saw. She did it a hundred and one times, attempting to see every angle and every possible interpretation of her work. How long had she bee...

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“TIFFANY AND THE WOMAN IN RED” by Penelope Stephens

Submitted to Contest #237

 Tiffany Burke is lonely, desperately lonely, and she doesn’t have a clue how to change that fact. Every time she meets someone interesting – and it happens often – there is some reason, usually the presence of a spouse or significant other or kids, that having a relationship would be impossible with them. Tiffany is convinced it is a running joke God is playing on her putting attractive people in her path, then yanking them away when she becomes interested. She knows she should refuse to play along, but she can’t seem to help hersel...

9 likes 2 comments 2

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“Nostalgia, Not.” by Felix Flax

Submitted to Contest #236

TW: PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE, PTSDYou can’t feel nostalgia anymore. You’re not sure if you ever could - can a child be nostalgic? You had difficulty understanding emotions as a child, especially ones involving other people, like embarrassment. Nostalgia doesn’t fall into that category, but it is an emotion that’s easier to feel when there’s someone to share it with, someone who was there at the time. The feelings your parents feel when reminiscing about your childhood just don’t exist in you. Maybe because you’re not...

6 likes 3 comments 3

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“An Alberta summer.” by Ehis Asibor

Submitted to Contest #233

Warning: This story contains multiple sensitive themes, such as sexual violence, mental health, substance abuse, physical violence, strong/ foul language, gore, and abuse. “Hell yeah! You brought the good stuff!” Bobby yelled as he scurried towards the open cargo bed of Randy’s truck. Bobby was a small man—a dwarf, if you insist—and so were his wife and their daughter Kennedy. McKinney, ...

4 likes 0 comments 0

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“Cuando el Sol Sale Ror el Oeste” by Marty B

Submitted to Contest #232

It was the last day of our summer break, and it was expected that the world would end.“Today is the day, but I don’t know when...“ Anna said, her hand shielding her eyes against the bright, midday sun sparkling off the blue ocean waves. Me and my cousins, Anna and Miguel had been on the beach, playing cards on towels on our last morning, maybe ever. A solar eclipse had been forecasted for sometime that afternoon. A rumor had spread widely that this year, in the complete darkness of the total eclipse...

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“Chrysalis” by Stephan Kyriacou

Submitted to Contest #231

“Ellis! Hurry up! We’re going to be late.”“Okay, okay,” Ellis called. He pulled on a hoodie and crossed over to his bedroom door. Hand on the doorknob, he paused, turning back to face the mirror. His eyes followed a now-familiar route. Mapping out the stubble that spanned his cheeks and jaw, the narrow set of his eyes, the harsh slope of his shoulders. He turned slightly, head tilted to admire the way his clothes clung to his flat chest.“Are you checking yourself out in the mirror again?” came the impat...

6 likes 3 comments 3

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“The Shape in the Mist” by Jennifer Newton

Submitted to Contest #230

A low cloud had coiled across a barren landscape with nothing but the black scars of trees and the shed husks of stone to define it. The rolling fog had both graced the weeds and fearfully scattered the light, banishing both shadow and clarity. Then stumbling through came a figure. The wisping cover obscured everything but the vaguest of shapes - humanoid with a limping gait, one arm clutching another ...

4 likes 1 comment 1

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“How to Elicit an Unreasonable Reaction” by Morgan Aloia

Submitted to Contest #230

1) Birth the subject in a suburban town in east Texas, in a community that completely and totally denigrates queerness. Let's call this place Pearland, as an example.2) Really work hard to butch them up, because something is clearly amiss on that front.3) They will realize they are trans, but will not have any context for what to do about that and so they will:3a) Internalize prevalent narratives about the pitiful and perverted nature that trans people have inherent to their being.3b) Vacu...

13 likes 5 comments 5

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“Jealous of Myself” by Christopher James

Submitted to Contest #225

"Have you ever noticed how that same homeless guy sits out there every day? The one with the dirty gray hair." I say to Jessie, my coworker as he mops the floor of the Seven-Eleven we both work at.  "Beats me, man. There are always at least a couple of homeless people hanging around here. They think somebody will throw them a bone I guess. What's got you so interested in that dude anyway?" Jessie says without ev...

8 likes 1 comment 1

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“DEAR OLD DEAD EXCERPT” by Penelope Stephens

Submitted to Contest #221

 The voices, or rather the voice, my father's voice, started shortly after he died. We hadn’t spoken since I came out as transgender, and as far as I was concerned, he was already dead. If there was any sense of guilt at not having been reconciled with him, it was quickly dismissed as his fault, not mine. So when he spoke to me, it was quite unexpected, and not entirely welcome. “Surely you're not going out dres...

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