I recently befriended a quirky transgender high school student named Bee. He’s a 17-year-old high schooler from a rural town up north, and just as insane as I am. Bee came across my Facebook profile through mutual friends. After I accepted his friend request, we soon got the ball rolling when we found out we had many mutual interests. For example, like me, he too enjoys binge watching political dramas and documentaries like The Crown and Madam Secretary. He also likes reading One Direction fanfiction. And in his spare time, he dabbles in fanfiction writing.
So went my proclamation. The time was late 2003. I was 19. I had been living in my first apartment for less than half a year. I had dark hair to the middle of my back and spikes on my leather biker jacket. I wanted to play bass in a black metal band. A friend of mine knew the only local band to play in that style at the time, and wouldn’t you know it, they needed a bassist.
As Trans* people, we’ve come a long way, and although 2017 has been rife with devastating setbacks and the ire of hatred stoked against us has been demonstrably crippling, we can’t dispute or progress. Indeed, the past year has sent our spirits spiraling with frustration as we witnessed, with incomparable agony, the attempt to ban Transgender people from joining the military, or the excision of the very word “Transgender” from vital conversations in federal government agencies- and let’s not forget the ongoing bathroom debacle that plagues us, quite unnecessarily, as opponents argue that their wives and children must be protected from Transwomen as though we represent a violent threat by simply existing is Cisgender spaces.
One of my biggest regrets in life is not finding out transgender people existed until my mid-teens. Growing up, I never heard of transgender as a concept. My parents, my school, and the media were all silent. I was told I was a girl and I accepted that I must be. I ignored the constant feeling of disconnect from my body and how much more I identified with boys than girls because I had no ability to consider that I had any options other than to live with what I was told I was.
There is a phenomenon in trans culture that I’ve been aware of ever since I started watching transitioning videos on Youtube in my mid-teens (not so long ago, but it feels like an age – it feels like the glaciers have moved half a continent since then).
Hi, I’m Elliott. Strange how something as simple as introducing yourself can be so life changing. I am a Transgender man. In the past year, I have made progress that I have been waiting for my entire life. I started therapy with a therapist that I trust and who has experience with transgender patients.
In the post-hippy years of the early-mid 1970s, my mother proclaimed aloud how she wished she could understand the bible. Like many peers of her generation, she had grown up during the Great Depression, watched as her brothers and husband went off to fight in World War II, worked hard to help support her daughter (my elder sister), and rejoiced when the war was over and they proceeded to build what they believed to be a greater country that the one they grew up in.