“What If I Mess Up?” A Guide to Misgendering and Repair
One of the most common concerns I hear from clinicians or family members of trans folks who want to be supportive allies is:
"What if I accidentally use the wrong pronouns or name?"
The fear of making a mistake can feel paralyzing, sometimes leading people to avoid conversations altogether or walk on eggshells around trans and gender-diverse folks.
Here's the truth: you probably will mess up sometimes.
And that's okay—in that you are human, and mistakes are inevitable.
What matters isn't perfection—it's how you respond when mistakes happen and your commitment to doing better.
But let's be honest about something else: some people might feel differently about this perspective. Some might read this and think,
"Actually, no, it's not okay that you keep getting my pronouns wrong."
And they're ALSO not wrong to feel that way.
Isn’t it annoying how often truth is a paradox? There’s always a both/and, and this is no exception.
When You Get It Wrong: The Basics
If you misgender someone or use an incorrect name, the best response is usually simple: apologize briefly, correct yourself, and move on.
"Sorry, she went to the store" becomes "Sorry, they went to the store." Try to avoid launching into a lengthy explanation about how you're still learning or how hard it is to remember.
But here's where it gets complicated. This advice—apologize quickly and move on—works well in many situations, but not all.
Some people need more acknowledgment of the harm.
Others find repeated apologies more exhausting than the original mistake.
And if we dig deep, every person who accidentally misgenders someone might have some pretty complicated relational trauma that’s unearthed with each unintentional mistake.
A wrong pronoun becomes a rumination:
Is my kid going to stop talking to me like my mother never talked to me?
Am I causing the same harm my father did to me he blamed me for my divorce?
If I can’t get this right, I’m gonna end up all alone
Am I getting dementia?? Why can’t I do this right?
There's no universal script for this, or universal recommendation I can give, because people are different. And the pain involved in the transaction is completely individual for both parties. Assuming anything different erases important context and humanity that we can’t afford to leave out of the equation here.
The Learning Process and Its Limits
Getting someone's pronouns and name right is like learning any new habit—it takes practice. If you knew someone as one name for years, your brain needs time to rewire. This is normal and understandable.
It's also true that for some of us, hearing "I'm still learning" after months or years can feel pretty damn dismissive. The impact of consistent misgendering can feel like a daily erosion of dignity that affects mental health, safety, and belonging.
Practice using correct pronouns when the person isn't around. If Alex uses they/them pronouns, practice sentences like "Alex said they would be here at noon." The more you use the correct language in your own head, the more natural it becomes. But also recognize that your learning process isn't happening in a vacuum—it's happening to someone else's life, and they will benefit from your practice.
The Reality of Harm
Here's what I've learned in my practice and my own trans life: there's no way to avoid hurting people we're in relationship with. That’s just part of the deal. We all carry different wounds, different triggers, different needs. What feels supportive to one person might feel invalidating to another. And there’s no way to know all of these nuances for each and every gender diverse person in your life—but you can probably learn a lot of them for the ones closest to you.
Some folks will appreciate your efforts and be patient with mistakes. Others might feel that patience has been a survival strategy they're tired of performing (VALID AF). Some might prefer directness; others might need gentleness. Some might want education; others might want you to figure it out on your own. And like many things, how we respond might depend on our mood and general state of containment that day. I know that’s true for me!
And ALL of these responses are within the range of normal.
What Actually Matters
What says more about you than the initial mistake is how you react when someone tells you you've caused harm. Do you get defensive? Do you center your own guilt? Do you make it about your good intentions? Or do you listen, take responsibility, and adjust your behavior?
When someone corrects you—whether gently or not—they're giving you information about how to be in better relationship with them. How you receive that information matters more than whether you needed the correction in the first place.
And remember when I listed all the potential ruminations that the misgenderer might experience when getting this feedback?
Yeah. Those feelings and thoughts are painful, and defensiveness is shame’s best front line soldier. So it might take some intentional healing work, along with practice, to figure out how to do this well and consistently.
I’m not saying it’s easy. But I am saying it’s worth it to put in the effort—for both of you.
Creating Space for Truth
The goal isn't to never mess up or to make everyone comfortable with your learning process. The goal is to create relationships where truth-telling is possible—where someone can say "that hurt" without having to manage your feelings about it, and where you can take that information and do something useful with it.
This means sitting with the discomfort of being imperfect while still committing to improvement. It means accepting that some people won't have patience for your mistakes, and that's their right. It means recognizing that your growth shouldn't come at the expense of someone else's wellbeing.
Moving Forward
The people in your life aren't necessarily expecting perfection, but they are watching how you handle imperfection. Your willingness to be corrected, to sit with discomfort, and to keep showing up even when it's awkward—that's what builds trust.
The goal isn't to never mess up—that’s a tightrope 500 feet in the air, and you’re doomed to trip at some point. The goal is to be the kind of person who can be told they've caused harm and respond with curiosity and accountability rather than defensiveness. And that takes work.
Here are some resources you might explore if you’d like to learn more:
https://self-compassion.org/self-compassion-practices/
