I was never a big fan of superheroes as a kid. No, I was strictly Pokemon and Star Wars. Who cared about Batman?
Marvel started getting big when I was a teen and I realized I actually enjoyed superheroes. My junior year of college I got into the DC comics.
There’s a severe lack of representation of the trans community in the media, so I have to project onto previously existing characters. Some people hate when I do that, but those also tend to be the people who get mad about canonically gay characters, so I don’t put much heed in their opinion.
The truth is, I’m lonely and feel isolated from the rest of the queer community. Projecting onto characters is all I have sometimes.
So superheroes are my queer community now.
I know they aren’t real. I know they aren’t queer in canon.
But I know that if they were real, they’d protect me. They’d make sure I was safe. They’d be someone I can look up to and respect.
We as a society create superhero stories because we want to imagine a world where our problems can be solved by someone better than the common person. We want to imagine god-like beings joining us in this world and making it better.
We want to be those beings, because that means our current problems don’t exist anymore.
But I’m not stupid – as much as I’d love to be Conner Kent (Superboy, Kon-El, the clone of Superman), I know I’d be the same as ever: constantly worried about not being good enough, feeling like I’ll never measure up to what everyone expects a man to be, always a little confused about the people around me.
So maybe I already am him.
It’s still just a coping mechanism.