Walking through the world as a trans person means constantly being aware of how people perceive you. Every day, I exist in a space between visibility and invisibility. Some people don’t notice me at all, while others notice me too much. They know that I’m not cis, but its almost like they don’t care. Or just don’t understand me.
I’ve been lucky in some ways. I’ve met people who respect me, who use my pronouns without hesitation, who don’t make a big deal about who I am. But I’ve also experienced the opposite. The misgendering. The dismissive behavior. The people who act as though my identity is an inconvenience to them, something they have to tolerate rather than accept.
It’s exhausting.
The other day, my mom and I were sitting in the car, passing by a protest happening in Downtown. It was compiled of students who I assumed walked out of school, a few of which were carrying signs that said “We are not illegal on stolen land!” and “What did immigrants do to you?” But one that caught my eye was a simple, yet affirming sign that read:
“Trans, Queer, Immigrant–Resilience in every identity.”
I was happy to see that sign, but my mother wasn’t. She told me that “those” kind of people were mentally ill and didn’t know what they were thinking. Clearly she wasn’t either. I knew exactly what she meant, even if she didn’t say it outright.
I love my mom, but she doesn’t fully understand me. Even though I’m out to basically everyone I know and I walk around with a bag that says they/them on it for 8 hours everyday, I get nervous thinking that’s all people see when they walk behind me. I’ve had many people make direct comments to me, but I’ve unfortunately heard some things said about others and myself; and that somehow what hurts the most. Although I dress very feminine, that doesn’t make me any less trans than I am.
It’s almost like people don’t think about who could be in the room. They just assume that they can talk about what they want and have no shame about it. I’m not exactly the confrontational type, so I would never directly go up to somebody and say, “Hey! Don’t say that!” so I have to hold myself accountable for that. In this generation, we can either be the most understanding individuals or the worst people you’ve ever encountered; and I manage to always find the worst ones. For one instance, when I was in middle school, I went by he/him at the time and I wanted to let my teacher know. She was very understanding and told me that she’ll refer to me by those pronouns, but as I went to sit down I felt everybody looking at me. Then the comments came.
“Oh, I didn’t know she was trans.”
“So.. is she a guy now?”
It wasn’t outright cruel. It wasn’t bullying. But it still hurt me. Because in those words, I heard everything: the confusion, the disbelief, the underlying assumption that I was something strange or not real. I didn’t say anything, I just sat down and pretended to not hear them.
So, the big question of the evening, would I change being trans if I could?
It’s a complicated question. There are days when I wish things were easier. Days when I wish I didn’t have to explain myself, correct people, or endure my classmates’ ignorance. There are moments when I wonder what it would be like to move through the world without having to prove my existence or feel dysphoric over a person who looks more androgynous than me.
But then I think about what being trans has taught me.
It’s taught me resilience. Strength. Empathy. It’s given me a deeper understanding of identity, of struggle, of what it means to fight for a place in the world. It’s connected me to a community of people who refuse to be erased, people who continue to exist boldly and are unapologetic despite everything.
That sign at the protest–the one that read “Resilience in every identity”–was right.
Being trans isn’t always easy, but it’s a part of me. And if I had the chance to change it at all, I don’t think I would, because being trans doesn’t make my life harder–people’s refusal to accept it does; that’s not my burden to carry.
So here’s a reminder to everyone whether you’re cis, trans, or still figuring things out: respect people for who they are. You don’t need to understand every single thing about somebody’s identity to be polite to them.
Yes, non-binary people do exist. No, asking invasive questions doesn’t make you more “curious”– it just makes things harder for the person on the receiving end.
Everyone, cis or trans, has their own way of expressing themselves, and that deserves to be respected. No one should have to justify their identity to make others comfortable.
At the end of the day, we all just want to exist as ourselves without judgment.
