My name is Jordan Gray – this is why I got naked on Friday Night Live

It was hot in there. The suit was itching. I done it for a laugh.

I could give you a million silly reasons for my disrobing on Channel 4’s Friday Night Live – and they’d mostly be true. But for me, I thought it might be nice for trans people around the country to see their body represented onscreen, outside of all the porn the world pretends it isn’t watching. A transgender body animated with pure electric joy, instead of lying flat on a mortician’s slab.

My name is Jordan Gray. I’m the “amazing”, “evil”, “incredible”, “disgusting”, “ground-breaking”, “god-insulting” comic that broke the internet with what was essentially a four-minute musical edition of Naked Attraction.

I am infinitely grateful to Channel 4, the British press, my fellow comics and the amazing influx of new followers. Life since August has been a blur, with a handful of personal highlights.

I got to chat about comedy one-on-one with Ben Elton (ditto, over breakfast at Dishoom, with Richard Herring). Sir Ian McKellen came to see my show, while Jason Isaacs came out to bat for me on Twitter. What can I say? Wizards seem to like me.

I could finally afford to buy my wife the Porsche 911 of coffee machines. I brought a wolf onto stage at The London Palladium. And for every death threat in my inbox, there are five letters from grateful parents telling me their trans kid no longer wants to kill themself.

But it’s hard to enjoy a single moment of it if I know other people aren’t. And so, for the small but passionate group of sceptics online, for whom my work lacked nuance and inspired confusion: I am not the “dangerous threat to your kids” the right-wing labels me; just as you are not the “out of touch, pearl-clutching maniac” the left-wing labels you. We both know better, so let’s be better.

“Groomer” to “boomer”, allow me to gently extract a few of your biggest thorns:

I envy your suspension of disbelief that a 150lb transwoman could physically rip a two-piece suit from her body, in one fluid motion, on a moment’s whim. I am in awe of the flurry of self-styled internet sleuths who become overnight experts in indecent exposure law… while somehow missing the 9ft of fishing wire trailing from the back of my suit… through a purpose-drilled hole in the FNL set… into the hands of a lovely technician called John, with instructions to yank on cue (steady on!) after 48 hours of rigorous rehearsal.

I don’t really think I’m “Better Than You” (the title of the song I performed on FNL). Like most people, I am an elastic band ball of insecurity and self-doubt. But when the world puts you on a pedestal, it’s funny to poke fun at myself and the arrogance that often follows fame.

If I truly believed I was “Better Than You”, I’d go into politics. Those are the people who really do think they’re better than you. They are the real, fame-hungry narcissists who would have us all believe that my plastic baps and Jane Thomas are more of a threat to your wellbeing than the cost of living crisis, your right to protest being stripped away and your planet dying like boil-in-the-bag rice.

Furthermore, when someone belts out the phrase “I’m better than you” on national telly, it takes a special kind of arrogance to hear: “I’m better than you specifically, Deborah.” I never said I was “better than cis women”. I said I was better than everybody. Every man, woman, non-binary person, monitor lizard, rhododendron or sentient yoghurt living at the back of your fridge.

To keep up to speed with all the latest opinions and comment sign up to our free weekly Voices Dispatches newsletter by clicking here

But if you still insist on interrogating “who the hell I think I am”, let me tell you: my name is Jordan Gray.

I’m the “freak of science” that created the highest reviewed show at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe. I’m the “confused degenerate” with 17 x 5-star reviews to my name and a nomination for the biggest comedy award on the planet. I’m the “Tim Minchin wannabe” that just made history as the first trans person to play the London Palladium – solo.

Seven days earlier, I changed the landscape of British TV with nothing but a dumb song, my gummy-worm and a pink power suit.

I’m a working-class Essex bird who has grafted for two decades for my moment in the sun, and I’ll be damned if your misdirected frustration is going to stop me finishing what I started. I am the girl on fire. I am the one who knocks. I am Joe Exotic lip-syncing on the bonnet of a police cruiser. I am the f****** Lizard King. I can do anything.

So at a certain point, calling me a “talentless hack” starts to lose its meaning. Read the room.

JORDAN GRAY: IS IT A BIRD? | SOHO THEATRE | DEC 13-23