to be Trans is not a choice, but to live as one’s true self is. and it is not one easily made.
it is increasingly difficult to be visibly Trans. and i don’t mean Trans in my way, which is “they” and “them” tattooed on my arms, bearded, dressing mostly “like a boy,” and accepted by their parents.
what i mean is a Trans woman being ejected from a tennis league because her opponent thought it was “unfair to play against a man.”
i mean at least 350 Trans people murdered in 2024, most of whom were Trans folks of color.
i mean Trans youth and adults having life-saving care revoked.
i mean Trans folks watching the systems they depend on for safety and wellbeing dismantled, quickly, right before their eyes.
i mean the weekly, daily, hourly onslaught on Trans rights, identities, souls.
there are Trans people everywhere. and there always have been, whether they’ve been shoved to the fringes of society or have internalized their transness and kept it secret.
Trans people cannot be eliminated or eradicated, no matter how hard some may try to make it so.
visible or not, in the streets or behind closed doors, in life and in death, Transness will persist. Transness will exist.
we will exist, whether or not we choose to be seen by the masses or our loved ones as who we truly are.
those who are seen are vulnerable, are brave, are lucky, are precious, are loved, are envied, are just as Trans as those who conceal themselves.
those who are not yet known are worthy of love, are incredible, are sacred, deserve safety just as much as those in the light.
Trans folks who choose to live as their true selves are paving the way for those who aren’t yet, no matter quietly or boisterously they choose to be.
Trans folks who walk in the spotlight are vulnerable, but some have the safety and capacity to do more for their community— and should.
Trans folks that are leveraging their visibility for the benefit of their siblings are pulling double-duty (visibility and action), and we should thank them.
there are so many choices we can make as Trans people; being ourselves shouldn’t be the most difficult.
The world is so lucky to hold you. What a gift it is to watch you grow and bloom and take up space. The ever-expanding force of you is a blessing that not everyone will realize but will someday be grateful for.
You are so beautiful, so powerful, so effervescent and shiny. I love you. Happy birthday, Cammie 💖
i never realized that grief held so much power.
i thought that grief was only capable of slowing people down, of delaying progress, of stopping movement,
and i thought that there was a point where grief fades, allowing the possibility of movement again.
but i’ve learned that grief can subsist for months, especially if unexpressed, and especially as tragedies that you hope and believe will end go on before your eyes—
bombardment, displacement, occupation, deprivation, evisceration, myriad elimination, horrors that were once unimaginable unfolding daily, no, hourly, before the eyes of millions—
there is a grief that has been planted in my belly and it grows and blooms and threatens to burst,
but
in the resistance of that threat, i have realized that the seed inside me is that of a watermelon— a sibling to seeds blooming in the bellies of countless others
it sprouts as shouts for a ceasefire and collective calls for liberation and an awakening that is shaking the whole world
it blooms in the smiles and the stories and the strength of the people of Palestine— men, women, children, elders, journalists, martyrs, activists, innocent civilians grasping the right to live
this seed of grief cracks open the Earth
grief has the power immobilize, yes, but only if we allow it to do so
it can also catalyze and connect and fuel a new wave of global revolution
