Early on in Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse, there’s a scene where teenage superheroine, Gwen Stacy, reveals to her father, police captain George Stacy, that she was the Spider-Woman that he had been searching for all along. Gwen shows fear in removing the mask that conceals her true identity from her father and the outside world—sharing an evident connection to many transgender individual’s experiences in coming out.

By taking a closer look at the subtext woven into Gwen Stacy’s character, and other spider-variants in the Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse (or the “Spider-Verse,” as it’s better know), it’s hard not to see the similarities to a trans experience. This theory sheds a spider variant’s alter ego—a hidden, alternate identity that encompasses their actual reality, rather than other’s perception of themselves—in an all new light. 

Prior to this scene, Captain Stacy betrays an outwardly oppositional stance and lack of acceptance towards Spider-Woman and those with similar disguises, despite not knowing that his own daughter is hiding this identity. 

Despite Captain Stacy’s police jacket featuring a trans flag, his closed-mindedness towards his own daughter’s identity still reflects the coming out experiences of many trans-identifying individuals.

Gwen being Spider-Woman may raise some questions about what qualities make a Spider variant–the answer being canon events. 

Canon events describe the destined future of those bitten by a radioactive spider, or as Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) stated, these occurrences are the “chapters that are part of every Spider’s story, every time.” 

These negative and positive experiences weave a web between all Spider-Man variants across the multiverse, and unless safely altered, disruptions in an arachnid‘s predetermined fate can cause dangerous anomalies that result in the potential downfall of that particular reality.

In the movie, Miguel O’Hara outlines “Event ASM90”—a canon experience in which a police captain close to Spider-Man dies while saving a kid from falling rubble during a battle with an arch nemesis. This acronym actually alludes to The Amazing Spider-Man Volume 1, Issue 90, in which Captain Stacy dies while during this same act.

To put it simply, canon events in the Spider-Verse are the plot points included in every version of a Spider-Man’s story—like the main character gaining spider-like powers, accidentally causing the death of a loved one (ex. Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben, or Gwen Stacy’s Peter Parker).

In the scene where Gwen is finally caught by law enforcement, she is forced to reveal her secret to her father, prompting the theme that Gwen caused Peter’s death. Though referencing Gwen’s best friend Peter Parker in this multiversal and situational context, Peter Parker was the first ever Spider-Man variant, and originally debuted in Amazing Fantasy in the anthology comic’s 15th issue released in August of 1962—just less than nine years prior to Marvel’s first mention of any kind of multiverse in the February 1971 issue of The Avengers.

Given the character’s history and status as the first, and most well-known, version of Spider-Man, the name “Peter Parker” still holds an obvious connection to this variant. The idea that Gwen Stacy “murdered” Peter Parker, as is suggested by her father, is essentially a mirroring of the devastatingly common parental misconception that all past aspects of a trans person’s identity are lost in the realization of their true selves. Captain Stacy’s conclusion that Gwen intentionally killed Peter also signifies a sort of transness, both by assuming that this fate was her choice, along with a literal deadname of her “past self.”

Another scene in “Across The Spider-Verse” that intensely hints at Gwen’s gender identity is when Gwen returns to her dad's apartment. Over the course of her emotional monologue to her father, blue is introduced into her usually white and pink hair, forming the colours of the trans flag. At her peak vulnerability, Gwen shares that the people she loves the most “can only know half of who [she is]” as her surroundings start to morph into the same vivid colour palette.

After she tells her father the truth about her experience living this double life, he reveals that he quit his job as police captain, and lovingly tells her that “[she’s] the best thing [he’s] ever done.” This heartfelt moment is concluded with a hug framed by a background of pastel blues, whites, and pinks.

The combination of the “Protect Trans Kids” flag above Gwen’s doorframe, queer-coded statements like “I was trying so hard to wear this [mask] in a way that you would want”, and the overwhelming ambience of acceptance and comfort at the end of the scene makes it hard to see this scene through a cisgendered lens. Though it could be argued as allyship, the choice of colour palette seems far too intentional to be a coincidence, especially when paired with the other elements present.

But the idea of a trans-identifying Spider-Man is nothing new, and has been a common interpretation of the character for a while, finding its origins in the transmasculine stereotypes exhibited by the teenaged arachnid. These types of theoretical approaches to fictional characters are often deemed “headcanons” and describe a view outside of a franchise’s canonical truth that serves as a way for fans to speculate around a character’s pre-established traits.

The headcanon’s popularity has grown in recent years—a surge that can be accredited to Tom Holland’s portrayal of the beloved web-slinger. Along with Holland’s shorter height (a common trait of many transmasculine individuals) there has been a lot of theorizing about the meaning behind specific lines in the third live-action Spider-Man series. 

The main arguments for this theory are Peter’s nickname, Ned's questions, and his defensiveness when it comes to masculinity. Flash Thompson, his school’s resident annoyance, often calls Peter “Penis Parker”, which is typically brushed off as a stupid nickname, but in reality could be some sort of transphobic remark. After Ned, Peter’s best friend, discovers his spider secret, he has a flurry of questions, one of which being “Do you lay eggs?”—something only female spiders can do, which Ned would most likely know based on his general knowledge of science, which suggests that Peter could be biologically female. In an attempt to be intimidating, Peter uses a voice changer to lower his voice, to which Aaron Davis (played by Donald Glover) immediately interjects and says that “[he] knows what a girl sounds like” after hearing Peter’s voice prior to this interaction. Peter seems shell shocked by this comment and enforces that he is, in fact, not a girl in five different ways before continuing the conversation.

This headcanon is also heavily alluded to in the Spidey triad crossover Spider-Man: No Way Home in the scene were the three live action depictions of Peter Parker (Tobey Macguire, Andrew Garfield, and Tom Holland) are discussing the logistics of their respective organic and synthetic web fluid sources. Innuendo or not, Tom Holland’s line of “we can’t do that, so naturally we’re curious as to how your web situation works” seems to speak for itself, in my mind.

Contrary to many other Marvel superheroes like Iron-Man or Ant-Man, a main part of Spider-Man’s story is that these two combined identities are only shown to those he trusts the most. While Tony Stark is publicly regarded as a celebrity and a superhero, Peter Parker has typically kept these two aspects of his life separated—with the exception of his identity’s revelation as a consequence of leaked drone footage at the end of Spider-Man: Far From Home.

Peter Parker is also traditionally depicted as an outcast, even after obtaining his insect-based alter ego, which many transgender viewers can relate to.

Whether the theory is probable or just a projection from transgender or non-binary Marvel fans, it shows the need for actual trans representation in mainstream media—specifically superhero movies. Whereas queer people in general are often depicted as weaker and less than ideal on the big screen, Spider-Man is portrayed as someone strong and cool, despite being canonically nerdy and not large in stature, which explains why many transmasculine people gravitate towards Peter Parker as a character.

As a trans-identifying person who is currently laying against a Spider-Man pillow, next to a poster that says “with great power comes great responsibility”, in a room surrounded by web-slinger memorabilia—I have not personally dodged the pattern of Peter Parker fixations among trans men, and my purchase of a spandex Spider-Man suit immediately after moving out solidifies this.

Peter’s (and all following Spider-Man variants’) radioactive spider bite changes him into someone that can help others, a role model for kids worldwide—the person he is destined to be. And, realistically, how different is that from a testosterone shot?

Is Spider-Man trans or am I caught in a web of HRT-induced wokeness? It's anyone's guess, but Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy may not be the cisgendered icons that our society has been taking them for.