by Megan Clement

Since June 1, trans women have been banned from playing women’s football in England. After the UK Supreme Court decision ruled that the definition of “woman” in the country’s Equality Act was linked to a person’s sex at birth, the Football Association decided to bar trans women from playing the game from the grassroots to the professional level. A similar ban has been enacted in Scotland.

Millions of people in the UK regularly play football, of whom only 28 registered players are trans women. When the ban was announced, these women received a letter from the Football Association offering them therapy and suggesting they get involved in other roles in football, including coaching and refereeing. 

Trans-inclusive teams are fighting back against the decision, which they say echoes the ban on all women playing football that was in place from 1921 to 1971. On the day the trans ban came into effect, the community football team Goal Diggers FC organised Let the Dolls Play, an inclusive tournament in North London held in defiance of the decision. Goal Diggers has withdrawn from leagues
affiliated with the Football Association so their trans players can continue to participate. 

On the sidelines of the tournament, I spoke to Billie Sky, 28, and Paula Griffin, 60, about what football has meant for them, and how the ban will affect them. The conversations have been edited for length and clarity.

Billie Sky

I’ve been a football fan all my life. When I started my transition, I was going through a really bad time. I was feeling quite disillusioned with who I was, how to fit in, where I fit in. And a friend of mine, a cis woman, asked if I wanted to come and play football. I came down to a training session and I was really overwhelmed by the support and the inclusion at Goal Diggers. From then on, I played 100 times in the year, including training. It changed my life. It’s become part of my identity. Obviously, now I’m in a situation where some of
that’s been taken away from me.

Goal Diggers play in unaffiliated leagues, which means I can still play in those ones for now. London Galaxy is my other, more professional, team. They’re in the eighth division of women’s football. They’ve just been promoted to the seventh, and I’m now unable to play for them. It’s a shame that that storyline has been cut off for me. I helped earn that promotion.

I think playing football has really helped me to understand womanhood in a different way. Playing football is such a broad scope of womanhood. We’ve got women who are straight, women who are bisexual or lesbian.
We’ve got non-binary people here. We’ve got people with all kinds of [gender] presentations. It made me realise I don’t need to act or behave in a certain way to fit in. 

Football has really just given me a home. It inspires me, it makes me feel empowered to do things that I normally wouldn’t consider doing. I was on antidepressants before I started playing. It does feel a little bit like a bit of my safety net has just been cut out. 

Photo courtesy of Billie Sky.

I had a dream of playing for the team that I support. That’s not looking very likely any more. Imagine going through your life with something that you didn’t have the courage to do for 24 years, then the passion that you find after feeling so disconnected from the world is just snatched away from you. It’s so difficult. I feel a bit lost. 

I’m considering leaving the UK. I got shouted out walking down the street the other day. I don’t know if this is a country that I’m safe in. I worry about us following a path similar to the US, which means it could be difficult for me to leave the country or I could have
to change my passport. I worry about sexual assault in a space that I’m now supposed to use – a male space – because there is a risk of that, too.

Right now, my focus is on trying to find a plan for me to make sure that I’m safe. But I’m also trying to balance that with trying to find some solace and sanctuary because each day is extremely difficult at the moment and leaving the house isn’t easy.

Paula Griffin

I’ve always wanted to be involved in football since I was a child, but I was struggling with my gender identity even back then. So football became part of my mask. To my friends I was very much a football lad. But about 20 years ago I stepped back from playing because I struggled walking into a change room and getting changed. The war in my body was getting worse.

[After transitioning] I discovered Goal Diggers and I was welcomed with open arms. I got to playing again, I was so unfit my leg gave out on me but I persevered and with the support and solidarity of this community, I’ve grown both as a person and a footballer. I am doing things now that I never thought I could. 

Men’s football is still absolutely riddled with homophobia, misogyny and transphobia. To suddenly come into women’s and non-binary football, you come into a welcoming space. We play because we love playing. We don’t play for money and, yes, we want to win but we want to start with a smile and end with a smile. It’s about a community that goes beyond the pitch.

Photo courtesy of Paula Griffin.

When I got [the letter from the Football Association about the ban], I cried. I have not cried like that for a long time. I cried because I felt I was going to lose a massive part of my life. Something that’s been so good to me, so important to me, that has allowed me to grow. This decision did not come from women who play grassroots football. It came from cis, white men who still run the game even down to the grassroots level.

Football is a team game. The gender-critical [people] say we force our way into sports. But if players don’t want to play alongside me, they won’t play alongside me.
These are my teammates, these are my friends. In my time playing, I have heard one transphobic comment, not addressed at me, from a male coach on the sidelines. I play with and against a lot of players and they’re incredibly welcoming to me. 

It’s scary, to be honest. I’ve considered leaving the country. But as I look around this community that I’m part of, I still see my friends around it, and I couldn’t… I would miss every moment of this. It’s such an important part of my life that I’ve come to love. Today, it’s about our community, about bringing people together, showing strength and solidarity to say: “We are here, we play alongside our friends. We are footballers, we are women.”

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