The Odyssey of a Transwoman and the Crises of the Trans Community

I’ll never forget the first time I walked out of my house dressed as a woman. For the first time in my life, I felt fear. I realized at that moment that my very existence as a trans woman put me at risk. Risk of losing my job, family, and friends, being discriminated against, assaulted, or even killed.

Up until this point I had lived my life as a  man and I had never felt afraid to leave my house or walk alone at night. Now I carry mace, plan what I do and where I go carefully, and I pay attention to people and my surroundings like my life depends on it. And I think it does, but the biggest danger I faced was not coming out at all.

My Journey Through Gender Dysphoria and Depression

Each winter that passed seemed to cast a longer, darker shadow on my mental health. My outwardly successful life felt increasingly like a hollow facade, one that threatened to crumble. Three and a half years ago, on a bleak December night just before Christmas, it felt like my life was in shards, and I found myself contemplating not if but how and when I would end my life. I didn't see a way forward, living in torment, trapped in a male body when every fiber of my being resonated with a female identity.

Coming out didn't appear to be a viable solution. The specter of death seemed less intimidating. It wasn't due to fear of rejection from my family - I was blessed with their unconditional love. It was the prospect of having to live in a world that was not just indifferent but actively hostile towards trans people that seemed insurmountable. Hostile in subtle ways. Hostile in violent ways.

Embracing My Identity

Not long after that dark December night, I turned over a new leaf. In the face of overwhelming despair, I had managed to overcome thoughts of suicide and instead chose to embrace my true self and come out. In this new chapter, I began to live more authentically and began my transition process. This journey wasn't one I embarked upon alone; it was bolstered by the steadfast support of friends and allies who never wavered in their acceptance.

During this time, I also gained access to a vast network of resources. Among the most vital were the top-notch gender-affirming healthcare services, which were a lifeline during my journey. I was also fortunate to have health insurance that shouldered the financial burden. Beyond just healthcare, I was touched by an outpouring of encouragement and support from both people I knew and kind strangers. 

Despite these positive aspects, I still felt an undercurrent of fear and anxiety. Even with all these advantages, living authentically as a trans woman was a tightrope walk. It was a constant reminder of how precious life was, and how fortunate I was to continue living it on my own terms.

Self-Acceptance and Love

Now, at the age of 51, I am beginning to feel more comfortable in my own skin. And, as I feel accepted and loved as a woman, I am beginning to accept and love myself. People are regularly congratulating me and telling me how courageous I am to have come out and transitioned, socially and physically. And, until recently, I loved it.

I don’t love it anymore. I overcame debilitating fear, depression, and addiction. But there’s nothing to congratulate me on. I’ve had every safety net imaginable. I’ve had all the assets, resources, education, physical health, friends, family, and community to make this transition. Most trans people don’t have the safety nets I’ve had. I’m one of the lucky ones and it’s hardly worth a congratulations.

It Shouldn’t Take Courage to Come Out As Trans

It shouldn’t take courage to come out as trans. It shouldn’t take courage to live as trans. And it shouldn’t be dangerous not to because trans youth and their families are denied gender-affirming health care, which has been shown to dramatically improve the mental health of trans youth and radically reduce the risk of them taking, or attempting to take, their own lives. To protect lives, we must protect transgender rights.

Our Crisis

And yet, the reality is that it does require courage to come out as trans given the current crisis we find ourselves in. If there is a single, glaring truth in all of this, it is this: If you know someone who identifies as transgnder or non-binary, understand that they are in crisis. This crisis may manifest on a personal level or as a shared anxiety born from a collective struggle against discrimination. Nevertheless, it is a crisis that demands our attention and compassion. We are living in an age where our identities are under siege. For some of us, the very places we once considered safe now bristle with hostility.

Individual Crisis: 

As individuals within the trans and non-binary community, especially those in the midst of transitioning, embark on the journey to discover and express their true identity, it often feels like a solitary path. This experience creates a chasm of disconnect, severing ties with the world as it was previously known. For me, this sounded like the loneliness of a silent phone line. Trans loneliness isn't merely about physical solitude; it is an emotional isolation borne of feeling misunderstood, misrepresented, and sometimes, outright rejected. This experience can lead to an acute sense of loneliness, which is arguably one of the most challenging aspects of transitioning. However, it's important to remember that despite the unique journeys, many within our community grapple with this individual crisis of loneliness. 

Moving beyond the individual crisis, even those among the trans or non-binary community who are not currently grappling with their personal identity must carry the constant weight of a crisis that affects the collective community. This presents us with a broader, more expansive challenge.

Collective Crisis: 

Our personal struggles, while unique and individual, are intertwined with a larger, collective crisis facing the entire the trans and non-binary community. We navigate a world where some factions, terrifyingly vocal, express their desire to eradicate our identities. This is not an exaggeration; it is the stark reality of our times. Even for those who are fortunate enough to feel personally safe within accepting communities, the collective crisis is palpable. We are reminded of it every time we hear of another member of our community facing discrimination, rejection, or violence. Thus, irrespective of our personal circumstances, the collective crisis weighs heavily on us all, reminding us that our fight for acceptance and safety is far from over. 

Yet, as we grapple with this collective crisis, there is another subgroup within our community that faces a crisis of their own.

Youth Crisis

Approximately 20% of Generation Z identifies as LGBTQ+. This statistic, representing one in five individuals, is a testament to a generation that's embracing their true identities more openly than ever before. But, with this increased visibility comes a crisis. 

Being young and trans today comes with significant risks. Anti-trans sentiment has seen a recent upsurge, leading to a wave of discriminatory legislation that poses a real, tangible threat to young trans individuals. The crisis manifests in distressingly high rates of suicide and suicide attempts among young trans, non-binary, and gender-expansive individuals.Not coming out, not having access to gender-affirming healthcare, not being able to transition, and not being able to live authentically – all of these factors contribute to the crisis. However, it's crucial to recognize that the danger of not addressing these issues, of not living authentically, is arguably even more severe. 

This crisis among our youth demands immediate attention and action. Ignoring it would mean risking a generation to fear, loneliness, and despair. Therefore, it's incumbent upon us all to create an environment where every young person, regardless of their gender identity, feels safe, affirmed, and supported in expressing who they truly are.

Allyship: Don’t Over-Complicate It

As the trans and non-binary communities navigate these tumultuous times, it is the allies among us who offer a lifeline, a glimmer of hope amid the turmoil. These individuals, by leaning in and seeking understanding, act as beacons of acceptance in an often uncertain world. They choose to get close and curious, countering isolation with empathy and support, proving that while some connections might falter under the weight of change, others will emerge stronger. 

So, in the face of these crises, what can be done? What can each of us do to help lighten the burden of our trans and non-binary friends, family, and community members? It's simple, really. Reach out. Extend a hand, offer your support, and ask how you can assist. The key is to act in solidarity, to stand shoulder to shoulder with those who are battling these individual and collective crises. It is through acknowledging and confronting these issues together that we can hope to effect meaningful change. 

Being an ally to someone in the trans and non-binary community, particularly those who may be grappling with their identity or transitioning, does not need to be a complicated endeavor. Essentially, it boils down to the act of being a compassionate human being, a good friend. It could be as simple as picking up the phone and making a call. A voice on the other end of the line, a moment of connection, can potentially save a life. In fact, it has happened to me. The key to remember is that such an action is not heroic, it's human. 

Alternatively, it might mean stepping into a space of discomfort and asking those questions that might seem awkward but are necessary for understanding and growth. Approach these conversations with kindness and genuine curiosity. That's the essence of allyship: a willingness to lean in, to listen, and to offer support.

The Impact of Allyship

My journey hasn’t been easy, but it has also been possible because of the safety nets I had, which many others don't. There have been allies who, in moments of crisis, offered me a lifeline. It is their presence and compassionate actions, as simple as picking up the phone to call, that have saved my life during some of my darkest times. It is critical to understand this: each step an ally takes, no matter how small it seems, has the potential to create a profound impact. 

In those moments when loneliness and despair threaten to become overwhelming, the smallest act of kindness, the simplest gesture of understanding, can make a world of difference. It is the allies who stand by us, who reach out when we're grappling with our darkest fears, who hold us up when the world feels too heavy – these are the individuals who are often instrumental in saving lives. 

Therefore, it’s important for allies to know that their actions, their understanding, and their advocacy could save lives and improve the quality of life for countless trans individuals. Remember, being an ally means committing to a lifetime of learning, growing, and standing up for justice. Your support, your willingness to learn and grow alongside us, can make a significant difference. It offers hope and promotes a world where it doesn’t take extraordinary courage to come out as trans. A world where everyone can feel safe, loved, and accepted for who they truly are.