[The featured image is of the nonbinary pride flag in colors yellow, white, purple, and black from top to bottom.]

My gender journey has taken me lots of places over the last 4 years. From being decidedly nonbinary with they/them pronouns, to experimenting with feelings past just “transmasc nonbinary” and seeing if I felt more like a boy (with they/he pronouns), to being back to nonbinary, but in a way that’s completely off the spectrum (with they/it pronouns), I’ve grown through quite the adventure. That’s the beautiful thing about gender: it doesn’t have to stay fixed. We are dynamic beings, and gender is allowed to reflect that. Gender is a social construct, after all. That being said, I bet you’re wondering why I use the pronoun “it” now.

I don’t get it. Isn’t that dehumanizing?

Well, no. And yes. It depends on who’s using it and what their intention is. I’ve had many people ask me why I use “it” as a pronoun, so I figured it’d be easiest to write something out for future askers. Ready? Let’s dive in!

“It” is Reclamation

The pronoun “it” has absolutely been used in the past, and still is used now, to dehumanize trans individuals. Just as women have reclaimed “slut”, “whore”, and “bitch”—or Black people have reclaimed the “n-word”, or gay/queer people have reclaimed “faggot”—I reclaim “it” to take back the power from transphobic people, and for the purposes described in the following paragraphs.

“It” is Spiritual

When I am not forced to perceive myself through constructed lenses (i.e., gender), I am allowed to connect to the Universe on a more mindful, spiritual level. When I’m not forced to perceive my humanity, I am allowed to connect to how I am a creature on this earth—a creature that is interconnected to every living entity, to every organic substance, to the stars and all that’s beyond them. I’ve frequently joked in the past (and will continue to do so) about how I’m human, but barely. I think a lot of humans forget how we are quite literally animals on this planet. In my opinion, what it is to be “human” is also a social construction. Colonialism and capitalism may be products of our creativity and innovation (oh, and white supremacy 🙃), but I refuse to allow those structures to remove the animal from within me. We, as humans, are not “above” other creatures. “It” allows me to feel interconnected and at home in my body.

“It” is Decolonization

Strict enforcement of binary gender (man/woman) is a product of Western modernity and colonization. Nonbinary identities have always existed, just as any LGBTQIA+ identity has always been a part of the human experience (whether the language was present for it or not). When I embrace “it” as a pronoun, I am disengaging from the binary completely and bringing pre-colonial times to the present. There are so many cultures that have embraced third (and more) genders for generations, and it’s beyond time for the colonized world to recognize the validity of these genders.

Conclusion

The way I identify my gender is understanding what it is NOT, in comparison to the spectrum we’ve finally let take hold in the Western world that goes past the binary. I only use “nonbinary” to communicate how I am different from the traditional conceptions of what gender is (i.e., binary). I do not feel like the term “nonbinary” actually describes my gender. The closest term I’ve found to suit me when I do experience gender is “maverique“, because that term describes gender as its own experience, independent of “male, female, neutral, or anything derived from any of them”. “Maverique” is the closest shorthand I have for saying “my gender is human, and barely at that.” Most people, however, don’t know this term, so for ease, I use “nonbinary”.

The other terms that can be used to describe nonbinary genders—genderfluid, gendervoid, agender, etc.—don’t suit me perfectly either because they still try to encapsulate what gender IS. I am not “genderfluid”, I AM fluid. I am not lacking, or full, or anything in between, I simply EXIST. The pronoun “they” suits me enough because I contain multitudes, but “it” suits me even better because “it” has no stake in the gender game to begin with, and allows me to embrace how I am a creature on this earth, not just a human. This is also why neopronouns appeal to me, and I may one day start using them, but I’ve yet to have the energy to assert myself this way (I reason with myself that at least “it” is already a used pronoun, but times are changing). After all of this, “autigender” is the best descriptive I have for communicating how I approach gender, but not many people are as familiar with that word as “nonbinary”, just like “maverique”. If you are one of those people, I encourage you to read this article I wrote on my autigender experience, here.

If you are thrown off by the so many words that are starting to exist to describe the unique experience of gender, then you’re catching onto the fact that there are at least* as many genders as there are people. . .

Think about it. Even in the cisgender world, no woman is the same as another woman. No man is the same as another man. People constantly get up in arms about “what is a man” and “what is a woman”, but those definitions are rarely agreed on, and so many people fall outside of the standard. And the ones who do fit? They often harm themselves and others to adhere to those standards instead of just being who they want to be. Being a woman (or man) doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s experience of being a woman (or man), and it doesn’t make you any less of a woman (or man). SO why can’t we apply that logic to just being human? Being a human doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s experience of being a human, and that doesn’t make them any less of a human. This concept speaks to any identity, not just gender. Now language is just catching up to categorizing other genders so that people feel better about understanding themselves and communicating/identifying with others.

TL;DR: I don’t really f*ck with gender. I just express myself in ways that make sense and feel good, and people project their own meaning of who/what I am onto me based on their lived experience with gender. Even if you don’t identify the way I do, I’m sure you’ve had experience with being misperceived or misrepresented in other ways. . .doesn’t feel good. So this is why I write. This is why I share my experience and ask people to respect me (and the rest of the trans community). We only have “trans identity” because our cisnormative world doesn’t allow other kinds of existence without being labeled as different, or the “other”. The pronoun “it” allows me to embrace my otherness in a way the suits me best. The more we can recognize and respect each other’s different lived experience, the less and less we will have the compulsory need as a society to distinguish “otherness”, and using “they” or “it” for pronouns won’t be so odd to folks.

Additionally, how we use the social construction of gender to identify ourselves is a very personal process and doesn’t have to make sense to others. The important thing is that we respect each other regardless. We are all humans (some of us barely so, as I’ve described), sharing this co-created existence together. It makes no sense to get bent out of shape over someone else’s identity that is bringing absolutely no harm to others. I think gender is beautiful and valid and useful and expressive and expansive. I have also known it to be confining, definitive, discriminatory, and lacking. I am happy people know their gender and are happy with whatever they know themselves as. If the world insists I have a gender, I keep my foot on the ground and decidedly say, “No thank you.”

*one can argue there are MORE genders than people, because many people are multigendered, and each gender is uniquely their own


Getting pronouns right takes practice! And it’s okay for you to take time in building skill. The best you can do when you make a mistake is to say, “Sorry [and then use the correct pronoun in the same sentence],” or say “Thank you [and then use the correct pronoun in the same sentence],” when someone corrects you.

You can practice on your own, with a friend, or even me! I offer peer support sessions on a sliding scale, just click here! And if you’re on an identity-discovery journey yourself, I’d be very happy to support you with the same sessions. Sending you love 💜✨

[Featured image: pictured is a slice of toasted white bread on a white background. Credit to Adobe Stockphotos]

Here’s to never giving up 🥂

Cw: mental and physical health (mentions su*c*de)

I was such a ham as a kid 😂

Pictured above: a tiny Jaesic plays in the Autumn leaves while wearing a bright red coat, they pose in front of carved pumpkins with their brother, they pose in a yellow coat and red hat with a huge grin (and some missing front teeth), and again in the yellow coat with their dog Rocket.

I look at these photos and truly see a happy kid. Well, maybe not in my dedication photo (ain’t that foreshadowing or what 🥲😂). But yes, a happy kid. But as I got older, something changed. You can kind of see it in the solo dancer photo, or me with a toy horse on a stick, at the end of this little gallery. The light started to dim from behind my eyes. Chronic pain, misunderstanding, and conformity really took a toll on me.

I’ve been sick with unexplainable physical symptoms since I was 4 years old, compounded by regular colds and flus. I’ve had mono BADLY twice, the worst of it as a freshman in college. When you are not physically well most days of your life, you are not mentally well either. That shit adds up, and depression/anxiety settles in. And this is only a fraction of what changed.

I was bullied, left out, and abandoned for being different more times than I can remember. Not knowing how I was neurodivergent significantly impacted how I developed self-esteem, efficacy, and relationships. I often invested my time in the wrong people (hell, I’m just learning how to not do that now). And I often failed the good relationships I did have because I didn’t have the tools to properly self-regulate and effectively communicate. I learned to people please and spread myself so thin in order to attempt at measuring up to the rest. The result? Repeat burnout, illness, suicidality, and years of abusive relationships. I’ve been trying to define myself by others’ standards and desires instead of looking inward to my core and shedding anything that isn’t ME.

Pictured above: Jaesic is in a dance troupe wearing a tie-dye blue and gold leotard, below they are in a red dress and tights, and to the right they are in a cowboy get-up with a toy horse on a stick named Oreo (it is black and white with a red bridle).

Well, no more. Finally, I see myself for who I am: a being of overflowing love, joy, and light. I no longer am ashamed of my joy or love and how I express it (or, at least most of the time; I’m getting better). I no longer waste my energy on things and people who do not symbiotically impact my life. I pursue my passions and care so deeply for the world, and I have power to make a difference.

My parents raised a little girl. That little girl grew into a severely repressed, depressed, scared young woman who let life and the people in it take advantage of her. Today I know that little girl is still a part of me, and that young woman helped me find how I am so much more now. I get to love her and carry her through to see just how expansive we can be as a fluid creature who never gave up on learning and loving. I know she is looking at me in awe, and maybe a little fear (lol). But how beautiful it is to be able to coalesce all parts of myself after working hard at healing my trauma, so that I can live a truly purposefully authentic life! I am so lucky. I almost didn’t make it. And now I know my life’s purpose is to support others to find themselves and heal too. We all possess the power to make a difference. Each time we realize that, the world has that much a better chance to become even more compassionate and inclusive for us all.

Thank you for being a part of my journey here 💜✨️🌈


Because my brain won’t let go of paranoia:

If you read things like this that I write and take offense because you considered us good friends growing up, these writings are NOT about you. I speak in generalizations about my life because it is easiest when describing the effect OTHER people had on me. I know I’ve had good relationships amongst the bad. But again, those relationships were few and far between, and it’s taken a lot of inner work to find people who will continuously choose me without taking advantage of me. So, know that you are loved, and I very much value whatever kind of relationship we’ve had over the years 🙌💜

I really want to be mad at today. I really do. But I’m learning to radically accept what is, and keep moving forward with love.

To recap:

1) I started my day with a less fruitful (than usual) bonus hour of Lyft, which I woke up early for after falling asleep super late (and I only had restless nightmares during sleep).

2) I then shipped over to my mom’s place to take care of her dog so the poor thing wouldn’t have to be in the crate all day. Except my mom didn’t clear a place at the table like she said she would. I was supposed to work at the house while watching the dog, but I couldn’t because I know from experience you DO NOT MOVE my mother’s things without her being present. The whole table was filled to the brim, just like every countertop in the house 🙃

So I pivot and focus on getting Bella a walk. But I can’t find her normal collar and harness anywhere. I call Mom, and she insists the bag with the things is somewhere around. Can’t find it. I get increasingly flustered and frustrated, all while the damn fire alarm’s dead battery keeps making it chirp at odd intervals.

I try taking the alarm down, but it won’t dislodge from the wall. So there’s noise and mess everywhere, I can’t find the dog’s things, and my body is having a hard time coping with being in the house for a multitude of reasons (yay trauma).

3) BAM meltdown. My body is frozen in the front hall, just standing there, wailing. High pitched wails come out of me that I can’t control, my eyes pouring out tears. It’s like I’m there, rattling inside my meatsuit just behind my eyes, witnessing my body do these things, and I have no attachment to them or ability to step into control. Bella is confused and sits with me and starts “crying” too. Which, thankfully, kind of shocks me into a new awareness and I am able to stop myself from wailing like that. Then she starts sitting closer to me so I can keep my hand on her head/back when she moves around. She didn’t understand, but she was such a sweetheart trying to figure out how to help.

We go for a walk which grounds me a little bit. (With the wrong lead and collar, but I needed to make do.)

4) I finally ship off to my friend’s place to work in his office. I’m taking a course by Kieran Rose (the “Inside Autism Series”), so I can be better educated on the identity I hold. And naturally the first “episode” is all about the history of Autism, which is pretty horrific. I make it about halfway through before I need to drive Lyft again. Feeling the pressure, as I only have until January 6th to catch up on the videos.

4.5) I’m gearing up for a trip to MI over NYE and into January for a few things. I feel the pressure of needing to have things done before I leave, so that’s just exacerbating all of this. And I still need to make rent.

5) I’m finally on time for the bonus hour for once, and get a ride. Instead of him adding a new destination into the app, he has me go to a gas station which adds 10 extra min, as I have a ride waiting in queue. (I’ve learned my lesson, as this has happened a few times now. I don’t care if they tip in cash after, it sucks and I’m done doing it. Especially since it’s a safety risk now that I think about it.)

As I’m going to reposition the app to drive this man to his destination finally, I accidentally swipe “drop off” and lose his trip entirely. It immediately shifts to the next ride, which I had to then cancel. And Lyft says we can go offline for up to 15 min during a bonus streak, but it LIED because when I came back on, I had to start over. The ride after that took me a good 25 min out of the city one way. All this to say, I once again was denied a full opportunity at bonus money. (I need that money because I can only drive so much each day, which is why I structure my schedule around those hours.) Then as I leave the gas station, some other driver decides to use the exit-only lane as an entrance and we almost have a collision.

And the last ride of my day? An older woman started asking me about kids, told me that “they say” (and she knows, because she’s written for John’s Hopkins before🙄) that part of the development of being fully female is when we have children and breastfeed. 🤢🤮 Like it’s somehow my duty, and the only way to be a “woman”. I didn’t bother telling her off, or about who I actually am. Something seemed off with her anyway. But like. WTF? AND she insisted that I tell her my deadname after I explained to her my name now is a recycled version of it.

Y’all I’m exhausted. And I started this post saying that I really want to be mad about all of this, but I can’t. All I can be is tired.

I am learning that we only have so much energy to dedicate to what’s important, and I choose today that what’s important is not being mad at the world for being rude to me (lol). Instead I’m looking at how I’ve managed to have a semi-productive day after a small meltdown (that’s a huge win), and I’m looking at how having older people in power (who are super removed from the world and how it works) is something we need to address as a society. If people want to be in power and serve their communities, they need to actually KNOW who they serve. Obviously this isn’t how things work, because most people in power are there for the power, not for the people. But goddammit can we start doing something about that???

Times are changing. The Future is Queer. We can no longer assume who people are just by looking at them, we can no longer assume that humanity neatly falls into binary categories of gender or neurotype. I’m so over how things are currently. All today’s experience can do is fuel my mission of changing the world, one connection at a time.

I sent that woman away with a smile because I knew I wouldn’t be able to change her way of thinking in a 4 minute drive to her house. I choose compassion over anger.

I choose love for others, even in their misguided knowledge. I choose love for myself, even with all my mistakes and anger. I choose love.

Life and everything in it represents–past the metaphorical–infinite possibilities. As humans, we get to BE those possibilities. If we are infinite possibilities, and we are, through what we focus our attention on, then I choose to shift my attention and seek the paths guided by curiosity, courage, and compassion.

That was a lot. Thanks for reading 💜🤘🌈

Featured image is of human figures in gray-scale marching together and holding various queer flags.

Here is a compassionately direct message about grief and how to support those in your life who are transitioning their gender:

Exploring gender can be a lifelong endeavor. A family member or friend (or coworker, student, etc.) finding their gender, while a positive change, is still an external change that everyone around them has to internalize, accept, and then celebrate. In other words, while gender transitioning for an individual is a realignment to their truest self, the people who love and respect this individual must transition their understanding of who this person is in order to love and respect them best. We can experience grief within this change because “change, even if we see it as positive, disrupts the connections that exist” [Forbes]. There is an end attached to every new beginning. It is natural to feel grief when things end or shift, because that disruption can often feel like some kind of loss. However, it’s how we deal with these feelings that matters.  

The best thing we can do for grief is to acknowledge its existence—quite literally name it—and sit with it. We need to actually look at our grief to process it, and that may take time. As we take inventory of change, there are transitions within, the “in betweens”. According to the Bridges Transition Model by William Bridges, we have an “ending zone”, “neutral zone”, and “new beginning zone” as we process transitions. This model was originally used for change in the workplace, but here we’re applying it to gender transitioning. What do we need to let go of as allies to get to the neutral zone? What can we look for in new beginnings to bring us out of the neutral zone? How can we celebrate the new beginnings to move forward into them?  

Before diving in any further, I want to be very clear about something: this transitional process is yours to manage without relying on the emotional labor of your trans* loved one. Your trans* loved one has had enough on their plate going through this process themselves, and if you place your grief on them while they are entrusting you with their true identity, they will be burdened with the notion that you might not actually be trustworthy. Yes these things take time, but while you are processing, it’s important to express full support on their behalf. Your trans* loved one is still the person you’ve known and loved for however long they’ve been in your life, only now they know themselves better which means you have the privilege of getting to know them even better too. And if you don’t understand yet, or fear your never will, remember that you don’t have to understand to be respectful.

It’s important to understand this: You’re not losing anyone, you’re actually just gaining more of the same person. The person that you’ve known, who is now realigning to their truest self, is not going through a living death. The person they were before coming out was just a mask they finally figured out how to take off. It’s also important to remember that it doesn’t make you a bad person if it takes time to understand how you’re gaining more of the same person. 

One caveat: many trans* people will refer to their birth name as their “deadname” and do see themselves as separate from who they were before coming out. If this is how they view their transition, whether it’s strictly social or a social and medical transition, it’s important to not prescribe and project your own understanding of their experience onto them. Always default to how they process their transition. If they don’t want to be related to their past self at all, then you need to not relate them to their past self at all.

The Ending Zone: Acknowledge

While it’s important to understand you’re not actually losing anything but gaining everything, it might help to cope with your loved one’s transition by stating what you think you are losing. Again, the first step to processing grief is to name it. So, what are you grieving, i.e. what do you think you are losing as your loved one realigns to their truest self? You will need to let go of the prescriptive image of who you thought your trans* loved one was. And if some of your grief is attached to gendered actions, like getting your nails done together, it could be a fun opportunity to ask your trans* loved one what gendered activities they might still be comfortable with, or explore together what activities you could do together instead. 

(I would like to add that I use “gendered actions” in context of how our society demands things be gendered, not that they actually ARE gendered. Anyone can get their nails done, anyone can throw a football, etc.)

As a parent: if your child decides to change their name, you will need to adopt the understanding that the name you gave them at birth was a gift that no longer serves them. If this is a struggle for you and your child hasn’t already chosen a name, it’s okay to ask them if you can be a part of the decision process for the new one, but be prepared to be told no. Listen more than you speak if they say yes. And do NOT make this process difficult for your child by guilting them into allowing you to be a part of the process, or guilting them by explaining how special their birth name is to you. Confide in a friend or therapist instead.

As a parent you may also be grieving the loss of the future you saw your child having. While this is understandable, and you may fear the hardship your child will face as a trans* person because our world is less than kind to the LGBTQIA+ community, it’s important to recognize that whatever future your child has, they will a) have you as a supportive parent and b) be living a life that is more aligned to them, which will elicit strength and more possibility for happiness.

The Neutral Zone: Internalize

“This is the time between the old reality and sense of identity and the new one” [wmbridges]. This is where you adopt new understanding of who they are and who you are in relation to them. How might your role in their life change as they realign? It may be that your role doesn’t change at all, except for needing to be extra supportive of your trans* loved one. This may require you to stick up for them in public spaces, or even amongst other family members and friends (be sure to ask them how they would like those circumstances to be dealt with first). It will also probably require language shifts as your trans* loved one chooses new pronouns and name (I say probably because not all trans* people want new pronouns or names). 

Understand that while you may have had to let go of the future you saw your loved one having, it’s important to recognize a new future is on the horizon for them—one that is better suited to them because they know themselves better now.

The New Beginning Zone: Accept and Celebrate

“Beginnings are marked by a release of energy in a new direction – they are an expression of a fresh identity” [wmbridges]. Not only does your trans* loved one get to explore their new identity, but so do you! You get to relearn with them who they are, and you get to relearn who you are in relation to them—a loving ally.   

The most important thing you can do to support your trans* loved one is to get yourself to a place of excitement in learning who they are becoming, instead of focusing on the “negative” of who you think you’re losing.  

Key tips during this transition:

  • If you mess up pronouns or their name, simply say “sorry” (truly, just ONE word, or say thank you), and repeat what you were saying with the corrected pronoun or name 
  • ASK your trans* loved one how they would like to be referred to in specific settings
  • ASK your trans* loved one what you can do better so that they feel supported 100% 
  • DO NOT burden your trans* loved one with stories or explanations of your grief. Keep your grief to yourself and other loved ones whom you trust and/or seek out therapeutic support, or support from a trans* peer support specialist (like me!)

One final note: It may help your transition through grief to acceptance, to compassionately ask to speak with your trans* loved one about their transition through grief to acceptance. It’s very common for trans* people to have our own grieving process as we come to learn who we are. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried over my childhood, or over a future that no longer exists. Granted, I’m much happier now and am so excited for my future, but that took time to come around to. A big part of me went through those common stages of grief, where I denied myself of my actual identity out of fear (imposter syndrome), where I got angry about mistreatment in my past or loss of future dreams, where I’ve bargained with the past and felt depressed over it all. Finally I’m at acceptance and celebration, but I experienced all of those stages of grief, and not in a linear fashion. This took time. A LOT of time. The first full year and a half after coming out, actually. And even though I’m well into my third year of being out, I sometimes still experience the anger or depression stage. Just as gender can be a lifelong journey, so can processing and living with grief. But I promise, the future is brighter when we know ourselves better, and an informed support system can make all the difference. So from the bottom of my trans* little heart, thank you for caring. Thank you for taking the time to learn how to best support the trans* people in your life.


If you are an ally looking to be the best ally you can be, and you would like support, I offer peer support sessions on a sliding scale. Please click here to schedule with me! And if you’re someone exploring identity and would appreciate a safer container to do so in, I’m always here for you in those same sessions as well!

If you are a business looking to better serve your trans* employees and the queer community at large, I am available for consultation as well. Please click here to pick a package and schedule an appointment! Keep in mind: I can do one consultation, or you can hire me as a coach for your workplace to transition your environment into a more inclusive space.

Hi friends! I hope to get back to writing regular articles soon, but in the meantime I have some events coming up that you might be interested in!

TONIGHT we have our Polyamory Panel Series session on Disability and Polyamory. This will be a fishbowl discussion to explore the dynamics of living a polyamorous life as a disabled person. From Covid, to boundaries and needs outside of the pandemic, to marriage equality, this topic is sure to have a lot of meat to chew on! Tonight, Monday April 18th at 7-8:30pm EST. Zoom link here! *this will be recorded and livestreamed*

Sunday April 24th at 2-5pm EST we have Queer^ Grief: Honoring the Beauty of Letting Go, Jam & Open Mic!

made with inShot and FlyerMaker apps

Queer^ grief is the grief we hold for having to live in a world that does not always accept, respect, or celebrate us for who we are as members of the LGBTQIA+ community. The caret (^) is for those who are additionally queer because of any other marginalized identity that is at odds with normative culture (race/ethnicity, neurodivergence, ability status, etc.).

This is a two-part event. The first 45 min will be a brave space for us to name the pain we have been carrying and find solace in one another as we share in breakout rooms. After a 15 minute break, we will be welcomed back to the space with a grounding exercise. An open format for sharing art and creative expression will follow. People will be able to share whatever form of expression their grief has produced, or that has helped them process their grief (painting/drawing, music, poetry, short story, even comedy, etc.). In this way, not only will we be able to connect over grief and set resilience down, but also be able to connect over the beauty that is free expression, that comes from that pain. More details and registration here!

*this event is free with a suggested donation of $5-35 for either segment, or $10-50 for both; registration required*

Looking forward to being in community with you!

Feature image: Found on a dear friend’s timeline, which is text that says, “Dear little me, You took so much on that was not yours to carry. We can set it down now, whenever you are ready. Love, Me.” Photo credit unknown.

cw: inner child discussion, spirituality, religion

Last night’s Intersections talk (on Queer Cult) dipped into this a bit and I’d like to share my thoughts. We were discussing queer spiritualities: what it means to be queer and spiritual, how those identities intersect and dissect and influence, etc. Within this discussion, I described my spiritual journey that took place because I realigned to my queer identities. Coming out was the door I needed to have opened to find my humanity again, something my conservative Christian upbringing took from me.

On a Full Moon last Fall, I held a special ceremony for myself where I wrote a letter to my parents on one side of the page, and a letter to myself on the other. I lit a candle under a tree that was shrouded in moonlight and burned the letter. Not letting go of the pain my parents caused me throughout my life was holding me back from accessing my inner child and healing that relationship; it was keeping me from living in the present as my full authentic self. As adults we have the responsibility to be our own parents, and that can be a rocky relationship if we don’t have anything to model it after.

I wept and wept under that tree, as a vision of me holding my younger self took over my mind once the burning was done. Finally I could see Little Me, confused and scared and hurt. I could see what she needed: she needed to be told she wasn’t wrong for being who she is, she wasn’t wrong for knowing she’s different and for knowing there is a better love and life waiting for her.

That night I got to witness just how neglected my inner child had been my whole life. I neglected her because I was scared of how mad she’d be at me. But because of the added neglect on my part, she made her anger known in ways that disrupted my life in really impactful ways. Impulsivity, selfish behavior, angry yelling, emotional meltdowns that could have been avoided, etc.—all of these and more because I didn’t want to look my inner child in the face…I couldn’t bear the shame of not taking care of her all this time either.

And part of me in the present was still mad at HER because I had the wrong perspective. Instead of loving her because she was an innocent child, I held grief over her (and me in the now at the time) for not being “normal”, for having specific needs, for “fucking up” over and over (because I didn’t have the tools to effectively communicate or self-regulate properly).

Because of what happened within that ceremony, after the added benefit and privilege of proper therapy, I’m now on my way to repairing the relationship I should have with my inner child, and because of this, I am feeling more wholly myself everyday. I’m finally ready to set down that pain, see my parents for who they are WHERE they are, and stop hurting myself trying to change them or make our relationship something it isn’t. I get to be my own parent and love my inner child so wholly that they get to be imaginative and feel nothing but freedom—freedom of shame, restriction, judgment; freedom to BE; freedom in knowing they are unequivocally enough, who always has and always will be. Coming back to my inner child is starting to mean coming back to the queerest version of myself; the most authentic version of who I am to my core—a free spirit, a ball of light made of love, courage, and a desire to make a difference.


It’s wild to see what growth looks like, and how nonlinear it really is. I’m grateful to be where I am now, even as I had to go through the rough stuff to get here. If you’re struggling, just know you’re not alone, and you are so so strong because you’ve already been through a lot and you’re still here reading this. My inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to: I offer peer support sessions on a sliding scale (and pro bono), just click here to schedule. 💜🌈💜

Image description: two images are divided by a white border. On the left is an image of Jae at their high school graduation. They are wearing a floral, knee length dress with tank-top sleeps. A medal of honor hangs from their neck. They have shoulder length blonde hair, and they are smiling with a blue graduation cap atop their head. The image on the right is of Jae from this past year. They are wearing an opened black vest with no shirt underneath, black dress pants, and a black and silver medallion. Their hair is bleach blonde and cut so it’s shorter on top and shaved on the sides. They hold a smirk on their face and a mug in their right hand that reads: World’s Greatest Me.

cw: mentions su*c*de and abusive relationships

There’s a trend going around where people are posting a picture of themselves from 2012 next to a picture of themselves from this year, 2022. So, I thought it’d be a fun reflection if I did this challenge today, on my birthday.

On the left I see a child in a graduation cap. I see someone who doesn’t know who she is and is tired of faking happy all the time. Sure, I had moments when I was truly happy. But nothing seemed to fit right. Not my clothes, not my body, not my friends, not my education, not my family, nothing. In fact the only things that made sense were music, nature, and animals because I truly didn’t know myself. Things would make sense one moment, and then come crashing down the next. I often wanted to unalive myself, even though I was so excited to start a new adventure off in Michigan for college. But college brought more strife, and I couldn’t make sense of why nothing was easy. Not one thing. Everything took so much effort; I was sick all the time, people abandoned me or stabbed me in the back, work was hell, classes were hell. Again, not saying that there weren’t good moments. But overall I was a lost child in a big, scary world, without much healthy guidance, self-awareness, or boundaries. That girl there had convictions, yes, but was constantly fawning to appease those around her and making foolish decisions. She got stuck in abusive relationship after abusive relationship. She got wrapped up in who people were telling her to be, instead of unapologetically existing in her full authenticity and finding the people who empower her to do just that.

That girl on the left had a lot of self-discovery to do, and a lot of self-compassion to develop. And then 10 years passed us by.

When I look to the right, I see a human who confidently embraces all that they are. I see someone who sees the possibilities life has to offer and isn’t afraid to reach out and receive what the universe is bringing to them. I see someone who knows they are inherently the world’s greatest “them” because they are the only one who can be them. I see someone who values their unique voice, quirks and all, and values when others share theirs. I see someone who knows life is a journey of growth and constant evolution, where it’s okay to make mistakes so long as you stay accountable and choose to do better.

I am grateful for the challenges and hardships I’ve had to endure these past 10 years to get to where I am now. Without them, I wouldn’t be this compassionate for myself and others. I wouldn’t pursue my passions with the fervor that I have now. I wouldn’t be the fierce advocate that I am now. I wouldn’t have the most amazing queer, dance, disabled, kink, polyamorous, and neurodivergent communities that I have now. I wouldn’t be in the healthy, stable, life-giving relationships that I’m in now.

Finally, I know myself. I know that I am transmasc nonbinary, pansexual, polyamorous, autistic, an ADHDer, disabled, and spiritual without religion. Finally I know, accept, and love these things about myself. No, I treasure these things. And finally I know that it is no one’s right or in anyone’s power to take the knowledge of who I am from me, or cover it up with their own toxicity. These past 10 years have taught me that knowing and loving myself is just as important, if not more important, than gracefully receiving and reciprocating love from others.

So here’s to growth, love, and the inclusive, equitable, compassion-first future ahead of us. If the last decade was setting the stage, I am so ready to take to that stage now and play my part in creating this future dream. Thanks for being here for the show and playing your own part too. 💜🌈💜


To everyone who has believed in me and seen me through these last 10 years, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I truly would not be here in the form that I am now without your patience, compassion, and support. It really does take a village…


I am shamelessly posting my gofundme here for continued growth through community support. Thank you 💜

Image description: a book is laid out so that the pages are fanned out, with two pages folding into each other in the middle to form the shape of a heart.

Hey friends, I’m so excited to bring you this collaborative list of non-fiction books by LGBTQIA+ community members. It’s easier now to find works of literature that center queer narratives, by queer authors, but not as easy as it should be. That’s why Artie and I have teamed up to bring you a fresh list of fantastic queer content! I am especially thrilled to have so many works in this list that center non-binary identities. Here’s to hoping you’ll find something to relate to or learn from, or both! And be sure to visit ArtieCarden’s site for the rest of the list and their other content! (Thanks again Artie for reaching out to me to make this collab happen!) Alrighty, here we go:

Queer: A Graphic History by Meg-John Barker: “Activist-academic Meg-John Barker and cartoonist Jules Scheele illuminate the histories of queer thought and LGBTQ+ action in this groundbreaking non-fiction graphic novel. From identity politics and gender roles to privilege and exclusion, Queer explores how we came to view sex, gender and sexuality in the ways that we do; how these ideas get tangled up with our culture and our understanding of biology, psychology and sexology; and how these views have been disputed and challenged. Along the way we look at key landmarks which shift our perspective of what’s ‘normal’ – Alfred Kinsey’s view of sexuality as a spectrum, Judith Butler’s view of gendered behaviour as a performance, the play Wicked, or moments in Casino Royale when we’re invited to view James Bond with the kind of desiring gaze usually directed at female bodies in mainstream media. Presented in a brilliantly engaging and witty style, this is a unique portrait of the universe of queer thinking.”

Queer Intentions: A (Personal) Journey Through LGBTQ+ Culture by Amelia Abraham: “Today, the options and freedoms on offer to LGBTQ+ people living in the West are greater than ever before. But is same-sex marriage, improved media visibility and corporate endorsement all it’s cracked up to be? At what cost does this acceptance come? And who is getting left behind, particularly in parts of the world where LGBTQ+ rights aren’t so advanced? Combining intrepid journalism with her own personal experience, in Queer Intentions, Amelia Abraham searches for the answers to these urgent challenges, as well as the broader question of what it means to be queer right now. Join her as she cries at the first same-sex marriage in Britain, loses herself in the world’s biggest drag convention in L.A., marches at Pride parades across Europe, visits both a transgender model agency and the Anti-Violence Project in New York to understand the extremes of trans life today, parties in the clubs of Turkey’s underground LGBTQ+ scene, and meets a genderless family in progressive Stockholm.”

A History of My Brief Body by Billy-Ray Belcourt: “The youngest-ever winner of the Griffin Prize mines his personal history in a brilliant new essay collection seeking to reconcile the world he was born into with the world that could be. Drawing on intimate personal experience, A History of My Brief Body is a meditation on grief, joy, love, and sex at the intersection of indigeneity and queerness. Billy-Ray Belcourt’s debut memoir opens with a tender letter to his kokum and memories of his early life in the hamlet of Joussard, Alberta, and on the Driftpile First Nation. Piece by piece, Billy-Ray’s writings invite us to unpack and explore the big and broken world he inhabits every day, in all its complexity and contradiction: a legacy of colonial violence and the joy that flourishes in spite of it; first loves and first loves lost; sexual exploration and intimacy; the act of writing as a survival instinct and a way to grieve. What emerges is not only a profound meditation on memory, gender, anger, shame, and ecstasy, but also the outline of a way forward. With startling honesty, and in a voice distinctly and assuredly his own, Belcourt situates his life experiences within a constellation of seminal queer texts, among which this book is sure to earn its place. Eye-opening, intensely emotional, and excessively quotable, A History of My Brief Body demonstrates over and over again the power of words to both devastate and console us.”

I have to mention that this collection of essays has gutted me and hit me at my core in so many glorious ways. Such a profound read, I can’t recommend it enough. There are many poignant and punctuating one-liners too—savor them! Just be sure to be prepared for intense emotions when you start digging into it.

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life As a Gay Autistic Trans Woman by Laura Kate Dale: “In this candid, first-of-its-kind memoir, Laura Kate Dale recounts what life is like growing up as a gay trans woman on the autism spectrum. From struggling with sensory processing, managing socially demanding situations and learning social cues and feminine presentation, through to coming out as trans during an autistic meltdown, Laura draws on her personal experiences from life prior to transition and diagnosis, and moving on to the years of self-discovery, to give a unique insight into the nuances of sexuality, gender and autism, and how they intersect.Charting the ups and downs of being autistic and on the LGBT spectrum with searing honesty and humour, this is an empowering, life-affirming read for anyone who’s felt they don’t fit in.”

Trans Teen Survival Guide by Owl and Fox Fisher: “Frank, friendly and funny, Trans Teen Survival Guide will leave transgender and non-binary teens informed, empowered and armed with all the tips, confidence and practical advice they need to navigate life as a trans teen. Wondering how to come out to your family and friends, what it’s like to go through cross hormonal therapy or how to put on a packer? Trans youth activists Fox and Owl have stepped in to answer everything that trans teens and their families need to know. With a focus on self-care, expression and being proud of your unique identity, the guide is packed full of invaluable advice from people who understand the realities and complexities of growing up trans. Having been there, done that, Fox and Owl are able to honestly chart the course of life as a trans teen, from potentially life-saving advice on dealing with dysphoria or depression, to hilarious real-life awkward trans stories.” 

Life Isn’t Binary: On Being Both, Beyond, and In-Between by Alex Iantaffi: “Much of society’s thinking operates in a highly rigid and binary manner; something is good or bad, right or wrong, a success or a failure, and so on. Challenging this limited way of thinking, this ground-breaking book looks at how non-binary methods of thought can be applied to all aspects of life, and offer new and greater ways of understanding ourselves and how we relate to others.Using bisexual and non-binary gender experiences as a starting point, this book addresses the key issues with binary thinking regarding our relationships, bodies, emotions, wellbeing and our sense of identity and sets out a range of practices which may help us to think in more non-binary, both/and, or uncertain ways.A truly original and insightful piece, this guide encourages reflection on how we view and understand the world we live in and how we all bend, blur or break society’s binary codes.”

Nonbinary Lives – An Anthology of Intersectional Identities by Jos Twist: “What does it mean to be non-binary in the 21st Century? Our gender identity is impacted by our personal histories; the cultures, communities and countries we are born into; and the places we go and the people we meet. But the representation of contemporary non-binary identities has been limited, until now.Pushing the narrative around non-binary identities further than ever before, this powerful collection of essays represents the breadth of non-binary lives, across the boundaries of race, class, age, sexuality, faith and more.Leading non-binary people share stories of their intersecting lives; how it feels to be non-binary and neurodiverse, the challenges of being a non-binary pregnant person, what it means to be non-binary within the Quaker community, the joy of reaching gender euphoria.This thought-provoking anthology shows that there is no right or wrong way to be non-binary.”

Yes, You Are Trans Enough: My Transition from Self-Loathing to Self-Love by Mia Violet: “This is the deeply personal and witty account of growing up as the kid who never fitted in. Transgender blogger Mia Violet reflects on her life and how at 26 she came to finally realise she was ‘trans enough’ to be transgender, after years of knowing she was different but without the language to understand why. From bullying, heartache and a botched coming out attempt, through to counselling, Gender Identity Clinics and acceptance, Mia confronts the ins and outs of transitioning, using her charged personal narrative to explore the most pressing questions in the transgender debate and confront what the media has gotten wrong. An essential read for anyone who has had to fight to be themselves.” 

Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe: “In 2014, Maia Kobabe, who uses e/em/eir pronouns, thought that a comic of reading statistics would be the last autobiographical comic e would ever write. At the time, it was the only thing e felt comfortable with strangers knowing about em. Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia’s intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma of pap smears. Started as a way to explain to eir family what it means to be nonbinary and asexual, Gender Queer is more than a personal story: it is a useful and touching guide on gender identity–what it means and how to think about it–for advocates, friends, and humans everywhere.”

Transgressive: A Trans Woman on Gender, Feminism, and Politics by Rachel Anne Williams: “How do I know I am trans? Is trans feminism real feminism? What is there to say about trans women’s male privilege? This collection of insightful, pithy and passionately argued think pieces from a trans-feminist perspective explores issues surrounding gender, feminism and philosophy and challenges misconceptions about trans identities. The book confronts contentious debates in gender studies to alleviate ongoing tension between feminism and trans women. Split into six sections, this collection covers wider issues, as well as autobiographical experiences, designed to stimulate the reader and encourage them to actively participate.”

Trans Voices: Becoming Who You Are by Declan Henry: “Imagine what it must be like to feel you are a woman ‘trapped’ in a man’s body. Or a man ‘trapped’ in a woman’s body. And what happens if you decide to reject your birth gender and become a trans man or a trans woman? Drawing on over one hundred interviews with individuals, this book is a compilation of the voices of those who have decided to undergo transition – both male-to-female and female-to-male. The book details the diverse experiences and challenges faced by those who transition, exploring a range of topics such as hormone treatments; reassignment surgeries; coming out; sex and sexuality; physical, emotional and mental health; transphobia; discrimination; and hate crime, as well as highlighting the lives of non-binary individuals and those who cross-dress to form a wider understanding of the varied ways in which people experience gender. This powerful book is an ideal introduction to those keen to understand more about contemporary trans issues as well as those questioning their own gender identity.”

Transition Denied: Confronting the Crisis in Trans Healthcare by Jane Fae: “Trans people in the UK currently face widespread prejudice and discrimination, from how they are described in the media to the lack of healthcare support they receive. This institutional bias is illustrated by the tragic case of Synestra de Courcy, who died following neglect and rejection from the NHS, leading her to sex work to fund her transition and dangerous self-medication. Charting Syn’s life from childhood through to her untimely death aged just 23, Jane Fae exposes the gross institutional and societal discrimination trans people experience on a daily basis and its impact on the lives of trans people young and old. Promoting honest discussion and bringing these hidden issues into the light of day, this book is a must read for anyone interested in trans rights, and NHS accountability.”

Trans Power: Own Your Gender by Juno Roche: “‘All those layers of expectation that are thrust upon us; boy, masculine, femme, transgender, sexual, woman, real, are such a weight to carry round. I feel transgressive. I feel hybrid. I feel trans.’ In this radical and emotionally raw book, Juno Roche pushes the boundaries of trans representation by redefining “trans” as an identity with its own power and strength, that goes beyond the gender binary. Through intimate conversations with leading and influential figures in the trans community, such as Kate Bornstein, Travis Alabanza, Josephine Jones, Glamrou and E-J Scott, this book highlights the diversity of trans identities and experiences with regard to love, bodies, sex, race and class, and urges trans people – and the world at large – to embrace a “trans” identity as something that offers empowerment and autonomy. Powerfully written, and with humour and advice throughout, this book is essential reading for anyone interested in the future of gender and how we identify ourselves.”

Gender Identity, Sexuality, and Autism: Voices from Across the Spectrum by Eva A. Mendes: “Bringing together a collection of narratives from those who are on the autism spectrum whilst also identifying as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex and/or asexual (LGBTQIA), this book explores the intersection of the two spectrums as well as the diverse experiences that come with it. By providing knowledge and advice based on in-depth research and personal accounts, the narratives will be immensely valuable to teenagers, adults, partners and families. The authors round these stories with a discussion of themes across narratives, and implications for the issues discussed. In the final chapter, the authors reflect on commonly asked questions from a clinical perspective, bringing in relevant research, as well as sharing best-practice tips and considerations that may be helpful for LGBTQIA and ASD teenagers and adults. These may also be used by family members and clinicians when counselling teenagers and adults on the dual spectrum. With each chapter structured around LGBTQIA and autism spectrum identities, Gender Identity, Sexuality and Autism highlights the fluidity of gender identity, sexual orientation and neurodiversity and provides a space for people to share their individual experiences.”

I Am Your Sister: Black Women Organizing Across Sexualities by Audre Lorde: “The internationally acclaimed author challenges homophobia as a divisive force, particularly among Black women.”

A reviewer writes: “Originally published in 1985, I Am Your Sister is a short yet insightful essay regarding the homophobia and heterosexism in Black communities and how it is used as a silencing tool to divide and further oppress Black women. This is a critical read for all feminists, anti-racists, and/or LGBTQIA advocates.”

You can read this pamphlet for free within the text I Am Your Sister: Collected and Unpublished Writings of Audre Lorde here. Instead of purchasing, consider donating to The Audre Lorde Project!

Spectrums: Autistic Transgender People in their Own Words by Maxfield Sparrow: “Written by autistic trans people from around the world, this vital and intimate collection of personal essays reveals the struggles and joys of living at the intersection of neurodivergence and gender diversity. Weaving memories, poems and first-person narratives together, these stories showcase experiences of coming out, college and university life, accessing healthcare, physical transition, friendships and relationships, sexuality, pregnancy, parenting, and late life self-discovery, to reveal a rich and varied tapestry of life lived on the spectrums.”

Thanks for taking a look at these great publications! Again, be sure to visit ArtieCarden’s site for the rest of the list!

Disclaimer: “on the spectrum” is generally very disliked in the autistic community, though not everyone abides by that consensus. Identity-first language is preferred, i.e. “autistic person” not “person with autism” or “they’re on the spectrum”.

Featured image description: A comic of a cartoon brain with eyes and a mouth fills the top left box. The context is Childhood. The brain says, “Why do you keep wishing you were a boy?” To the right of the brain box is a box of a person lying in bed with their eyes closed, saying, “It’s probably just crushes. I can’t be a boy.” The bottom left box has the context of the year 2021, and the brain says, “You can be a boy.” Next to this box is the last box in the comment, with the same person lying bed, their eyes wide open in a panic. The room is dark, so their eyes really stand out.

A dear friend of mine recently sent me an incredible article, full of stories about queer kids who had the opportunity to fully embrace themselves at Camp I Am (closed in 2018). I only made it past a couple of the kids’ stories before I found myself sobbing.

Why am I crying? Am I not ecstatic for these children?

It wasn’t a question of if I was happy or not for these kids. Instead, my body was recognizing my grief before my brain could figure out what was happening.

While my parents did what they thought best, and I was provided for, my upbringing wasn’t entirely supportive. That is to say, I was supported, but my parents only supported their ideal version of what they wanted me to be, and not who I actually was. In fact a lot of the time I was punished for who I was/wanted to be. After reading about how these young queer people had the opportunity to experience a piece of the world free of the bullshit—sexism, homophobia, transphobia—and had the resources to build a healthy support network to explore themselves within…something just broke down within me.

. . .I’d probably be a fully transitioned “boy” today.

While allowing children to take hormone blockers (and then hormones after puberty) as gender-affirming healthcare is relatively, to my knowledge, a newer practice (and thank the gods at all!), part of me wonders what life would have been like had I had the supportive environment I needed growing up. If external culture and internal familial life had been aligned with less judgment, more understanding, and more dismantling of the patriarchal structures society perpetuates, I’d probably be a fully transitioned “boy” today (hormone therapy, and top surgery if needed).

Socially speaking, I wanted to be a boy. Growing up I hated dolls, skirts and tights, and socializing the ways little girls do. Everyone was so cliquey, and most of them often didn’t want to play sports, get dirty playing in the woods, or include me in general (I was a weird, awkward kid). My peers always found ways to let me know that I was an outsider and did not belong. I always got along better with the boys and loved what the boys got to do, but once gendering really set it, I wasn’t always welcomed with them either.

I never cared about physicality until puberty hit. By then, I was deeply conditioned to accept that I was a girl—any attention I got from the boys was good attention, even though it felt wrong. It felt wrong because I was taught any of that was sinful, but at the same time, there was always something more that I just couldn’t put my finger on.

Another friend just today relayed the idea (from a repost on Hank Green’s TikTok) that gender is like a non-Newtonian fluid. What is a non-Newtonian fluid, you ask?

A non-Newtonian fluid is a fluid that does not follow Newton’s law of viscosity, i.e., constant viscosity independent of stress. In non-Newtonian fluids, viscosity can change when under force to either more liquid or more solid. Ketchup, for example, becomes runnier when shaken and is thus a non-Newtonian fluid.

– Wikipedia

I guess my gender is ketchup now 😂 [laugh-cry emoji].

But in all seriousness, as a child and into adulthood, I adopted “womanhood” because I was told that was my only option based on my physical sex. There was (and is) all this pressure to conform to the binary and not question why. But even as a kid I didn’t believe in it. I didn’t see its validity, as all humans are capable of so many things, men and women alike. And come to find in my late twenties, there are more options outside of (and within) the binary! Everything started to make sense once that knowledge was attained. I am a non-Newtonian liquid. Once I relieved myself of the pressure (brainwashing) of the binary, I came back to my fluid self.

Now that I understand myself to be autigender nonbinary, I can say with certainty that if I must be a human, having a penis and no breasts would suit me better than having what I was born with. I have a deep desire to look like a cis man, meaning I technically desire to be on testosterone. But there’s no chance of me seeking hormone therapy because I cannot risk losing my vocal range and tone quality. I’ve waited all my life to have the singing voice I have now, and I’m too scared of taking T because it’s almost guaranteed to change my voice. I’m also too scared of getting surgery because what if I don’t actually like the change? It’s taken me a long time to get accustomed to the sensitivity of the bits I’ve got. I don’t want to lose that now, even if I don’t like having the bits themselves. Honestly I wish I could just be bitless. No genitals or secondary sex characteristics. Just a plain human body, full of nothing but ambition and love. But all that being said, even with a “transitioned” body, I would still identify as nonbinary. I have no desire to actually be a man.

So to answer the question the title purposes, no, I am not a boy. And generally speaking I don’t have the desire to be a boy, though I do sometimes prefer the “masculine” pronouns he/him. Had things been different growing up—where people would have understood there are more than 2 genders and gender-affirming healthcare is appropriate—I’d probably have no breasts, a deeper voice, and more regular use of he/him pronouns, but I still wouldn’t be a boy. If anything I’d be a *nonbinary* boy.

In this timeline though? I’ll settle for the knowledge that I am perfectly valid the way I am, and will continue practicing self-compassion and acceptance for the things I cannot change. Oh, and get some new ink. That helps.


…Care to help with my dysphoria? Add to my “new ink” fund —> @thequeercult on Venmo and queercultcoaching@gmail.com on PayPal. Many thanks and much love 💜

This is for my fellow enbys (and those who might be questioning): You cannot appropriate being trans. Here’s a great thread/article about it; You cannot appropriate being trans. You can only activate who you are by trying labels on and exploring gender.

For the first year after I came out, I felt like “trans” didn’t apply to me. Growing up, I was conditioned to identify as a woman because I have a “female body” (in quotes, as I’ve never had my chromosomes tested). That conditioning allowed discomfort for sure, but at the time, that discomfort was in context of misogyny. I wasn’t aware that I was being denied a more fitting identity profile, I just knew that being a woman kind of sucked (and outside of it sucking, it really didn’t suit me, but I couldn’t figure out how or why yet).

A quick recap on my history: In high school, the ‘T’ in LGBTQIA+ was rather silent for me, and the other letters hadn’t really existed yet. I had yet to meet any openly trans people (that I knew of), and sexuality took precedence. I only understood myself to be an ally at the time. Then in college I understood myself to be bisexual, and only understood bisexual to mean that I liked both men and women in a trans-exclusionary kind of way (this makes me cringe the most).

sdf

Post college I was adopted into an incredible community of friends—friends who are queer, sex and kink-positive, body neutral, and so loving. This community was where “nonbinary” finally found its way to me, and my world was rocked. It’s easy to not know who you are because you don’t see yourself reflected back to you, so when it finally IS reflected, it’s really hard to ignore. The safe space I was provided to try things on for myself, combined with that reflection, is what allowed me to realign to my authentic self.

All this to say: after I came out, it took me a literal year to be comfortable with identifying as trans. Not all nonbinary people identify as trans for many reasons, and for me, it was internalized transphobia along with feeling like an imposter—”nonbinary” was newer to the mainstream, and I “hadn’t suffered” as much as others I knew in the community had, just to be who we are. Besides, I wasn’t trans enough to actually be trans anyway, as if being nonbinary was just Woman Lite™ (cringe, especially since there are AMAB and intersex enbys).

Of course as I grew into my identity thereafter, the deeper understanding I gained, the more clear it was to me that nonbinary is completely valid as its own umbrella of genders under the transgender umbrella. But in order for me to get there, I had to be patient and undo a lot of conditioning. I had to reckon with the fact I had been taught my whole life how the LGBTQIA+ community is full of delinquents who I shouldn’t be associated with, who are sinners and need Jesus. And even though intellectually I understood this to be untrue, my inner workings needed some time to reverse that brainwashing. Outwardly I was afraid of overstepping boundaries and being perceived as an imposter or appropriating culture, and inwardly I was still fighting to not want to be a “delinquent” myself—to not be like them. *still cringing*

The only stable definition of being trans is “not identifying with your assigned gender a birth,” and I think that definition includes a hell of a lot of people who currently call themselves cis and are worried about appropriating being trans.

– Cherry Blossom (@DameKraft on Twitter)

Being trans is not a culture but an identity that informs community. For this reason alone, you cannot appropriate it. I think you can absolutely misrepresent the community, like Caitlyn Jenner has recently, or do harm as an ally (un/intentionally), but you can’t appropriate being trans because you can find transgender people in different cultures all over the world, where we’ve existed since the beginning.

The House of Trans™

So if you find yourself not identifying/vibing with your assigned gender at birth (AGAB), the House of Trans is open to you.

A friend reached out last year asking about gender things, and I offered her a metaphor:

Transness is a house, open to literally anyone. If you don’t feel at home in your gender, you might want to look through the window to the House of Trans and see what’s inside. And if you’re really searching, maybe you’ll open the door, step in, and stay awhile. If you feel more at home here, then home is where you’ll stay. But if you stay awhile and find that it’s not your true home, you’re welcome to leave and come again at any point. And you don’t have to suffer to gain passage! You might have walked by on a nice stroll through town and wanted to just see what’s inside. Maybe you’ve climbed the tallest mountain to reach the house. We all come to understand our identities in our own time, and each journey has its own obstacles to overcome. Whatever obstacles you’ve traversed (or lack thereof) doesn’t make you any more or less trans, it just means it took more or less time to get here. This isn’t the Suffer Olympics™. Yes, some folk may have more privilege than others in the fact that they haven’t suffered through a lot to be comfortable with who they are or put labels on things, but that privilege does not negate who they are.

You don’t need to have gender dysphoria to be trans. And you definitely don’t have to transition (hormonally or socially) to be trans. The only thing that you need to “qualify,” whether you think it’s justified or not, is to identify as something other than your AGAB. That’s it. And that includes identifying as your AGAB along with something else, as with some nonbinary people and demiboys/girls do. Your voice is just as valid as other trans voices if that’s how you want to identify. It all comes down to personal preference.

If trans doesn’t vibe with you *only* because you feel like you’re appropriating or are an impostor, please give yourself space and time to work through that. You are not any less of who you are because you’re not the same as others. And if you decide you still don’t identify as trans even after working through *why* that might be, that’s okay! You can still be nonbinary without claiming trans for yourself! Just know that the trans community is full of people who used to feel as you might right now, dear reader. You are not alone. 💜🖤💜


Exploring gender, sexuality, or neurodiversity? Remember, everything is at your own pace. And I can help! If you’d like to talk with someone about what you’re going through, I offer consulting services on a sliding scale. Please don’t hesitate to reach out through the contact tab on the main menu. 🥰

And soon I will be offering life coaching! Stay tuned!