I came out as trans three years ago today. Trans people are big on anniversaries like seven-year-olds are big on birthdays–because they’re new and exciting, and everyone claps and says, “Yay, you were born!” 🥳🍾

A birthday doesn’t mark an accomplishment, though. Everyone was born; get over yourself, kid. But these trans anniversaries feel a little different. Like we earned this shit. Because most of us did, just by surviving.

When I came out, things looked peachy for trans folks (almost) everywhere in the US. I was inspired to take action partly because it felt like the world was changing but mainly because the kids had already changed. The kids had changed, packed up their things, and moved to the future, and they inspired me greatly.

But really, aside from whatever society was doing, I had to come out. I had to get out from under the shame and lies that were killing me.

Regarding the pharmaceutical part of transitioning, I have benefitted immensely from hormone replacement therapy. It’s been enlightening going through the changes, which have so far been more mental than physical. I mean, there are physical changes, but they’re minor, as expected, with someone of my advanced, crypt-keeper-like age. The mental changes, though—that’s what’s made me feel new.

I feel more in touch with everyone and everything. My brain has slowed down in a lot of ways. I feel compassion in ways I’d never felt before and more genuine human connections. My emotions are a little…raw sometimes. But I know part of that is my body adjusting or, as they say, going through puberty again. A side-effect of the hormonal changes.

To say it’s been positive would be an understatement. It’s been life-saving. Or life-making.

As for society being peachy, well, that didn’t go according to plan, did it?

Now it feels like half the country–half the world–is in the process of legislating us out of existence, in some states even forcibly de-transitioning trans people. They, whoever they are, have effectively dehumanized us through a long, patient smear campaign that’s now bearing fruit.

It’s a genuine mystery to me why anyone on earth cares what any trans or queer person does.

Can I say that again?

It’s a genuine mystery to me why anyone on earth cares what any trans or queer person does.

The anti-trans contingent hides behind religion and “protecting the children,“ but don’t fall for that. None of them care about any children that didn’t originate in their pious loins. What they’re really trying to eliminate is their discomfort with sharing the world with anyone who doesn’t look, think, and behave like them.

I should clarify that they don’t want to share the world with anyone who doesn’t look, think, and behave the way they do in public. In private, they are just as queer and trans and perverted and fucked up as anyone else. Maybe more so. Because you can be as fascist as you’d like, but you’re still human.

They hate us because we have the courage of our convictions, and they do not. They hate us because fascism doesn’t allow them to say they’re trans or queer or even in favor of science and learning. They hate us because they can’t be us. That’s my scientific theory, anyway.

And let’s be real, mkay? Some of the right-wing fascists who stand in front of crowds of other fascists and speak against queer people doth protest too much. Meaning I get the feeling their hatred is a smokescreen to hide their own queerness. Just saying. It would almost be tragic if they weren’t ruining the world.

I could go on for 10,000 paragraphs about the anti-trans laws that have been passed or proposed just his year. But on the bright side, pro-human lawyers have been fighting against the new laws, and they’re having success getting some of them reversed, or suspended, or whatever it is they do to a law when they stop enforcing it.

I don’t know, though, sisters, brothers, and others. It feels like the number of people who hate us is the same as it ever was. It’s the sudden onset of the decline and dismantling of America that’s made them bold enough to freely speak their bigotry. Which led to politicians feeling free to enact what amount to hate laws. Their ultimate goal is trans genocide.

If you think I’m exaggerating or being dramatic by using genocide, I’d only ask you to consider what genocide means. The shoe fits.

We don’t know from one day to the next where we stand anymore, and our rights and health care can disappear at a moment’s notice. It’s a perilous time to be trans, but I’m trying to remain positive and move through the world with love.

One way to do that is to gather queer friends and create our own families. Ayin and I started putting ourselves out there about a year and a half ago. Not an easy thing for either of us to do, but it’s been wonderful. The high desert is becoming home to an increasing queer population, and we’ve been lucky enough to meet and become friends with many of our queer desert neighbors.

It wasn’t possible for me to be part of the queer community before, so it’s been a beautiful experience. Beautiful in the way that we have shared experiences that unite us. That there are things we don’t have to explain to each other. That we aren’t judgemental toward each other (about the important things, anyway 😉). I cherish becoming part of the community.

Though I’ll admit that I still have moments of feeling like a fraud. Like I’m crashing the party of a community I have no right to be part of. I don’t really believe that’s true, but feelings are feelings. Sixty years of social conditioning is also a big part of that unfounded insecurity. I know that just because I’m arriving late doesn’t make me any less legit.

So and so and so and so and, yes–look at me, I’m three! I don’t feel a day over 14 months.

WRITTEN BY A HUMAN