Today is Transgender Day of Visibility.
Took me forever to understand that I could define my own body in my own way.
I could allow my gender to be just as queer and undefined and fluid as my sexuality. Surgery or no surgery would be needed to define how I felt about my body.
I could be me without worrying if I was “Trans enough”.
I am genderfucking queer and I am enough.
My pronouns are they/she/him. Respect my Trans existence by being respectful and I’ll respect your existence to be who you are.
Hi! My name’s Phoenix (born Killian), and I’m a transguy. I’ve been “out” fully as a transguy for about 2 years now, and 4 years to certain friends. Gender had always been a confusing concept for me, and I found myself trying to put myself in boxes that never really seem to fit.
Due to lack of decent representation and education, I had never even heard of the term “transgender” and simply called myself a “really butch lesbian” for my elementary/middle school life.
(that’s me around age 11 or 12. Killian the lesbian.)
But after learning about gender and how it differs from sex and sexuality, I started to explore. I identified as genderqueer for a short while, but eventually I realized that I was simply male.
(I also never took selfies. I had to scrounge around for whatever I could find. This is me at 13/14, my beginnings in emo)
I came out to my parents. My mother was very supportive about it, and helped me get my first binder. My father, unfortunately, didn’t take it very well and still has trouble using the right name/pronouns. I no longer live with him.
I also came out to my school, which had the worst reception. i was forbidden by staff from using any male facilities, and whenever I tried to use the female restroom i was yelled at and pushed and forced to leave. I ended up getting lots of UTIs and it really sucked.
FORTUNATELY I’ve since moved to Portland Oregon where I have been able to be who I am and even begin my transition!!
(when i first moved here)
(today, 6 months on testosterone!)
Also let it be known that anybody is welcome to contact me if they need information or resources with transitioning! Just shoot me a message!
This is what trans looks like. Happy Trans Day of Visibility 2015! I am proud to be trans, and proud to be as visible as I am.
For a long time I felt a little bit weird about taking part in things like this because I felt like I was not “out” enough. I am proud to take part now, both because I am becoming more “visible” but also because I know the value of any level of visibility, because we all start somewhere where our identities are not as visible as we might like.
If you are trans and you are reading this, be proud of who you are. I admire the the amazing level of courage, tenacity, and resilience; our beauty, intelligence, and determination, all in the face of the challenges that are constantly being made to our identities. We rule. And we deserve to be seen. Whether you are far down your path to living life authentically, just starting it out, or somewhere in between, you keep doing you, and know that you are not alone.
If you are not trans and you are reading this, celebrate trans lives, help us fight for the things that will make them easier, and keep learning, listening, and spreading the word. You can make a difference too!
Happy Trans Day of Visibility! I’ve known I was a boy since I was 9 years old, but I only came out to my parents a year ago. It didn’t go very well, and I was kicked out, had to drop out of school, became severely depressed, and basically hit rock bottom. Long story short, I dug myself out of that hole, found a job, and I’m going to start classes again soon! I don’t usually take selfies but I felt like this was a good reason to. (He/Him)
I found photos of myself when I was just a little one. I would always wear my father’s clothes around, and when I was in preschool I would wear the boys uniform. I never really thought there to be any meaning to it. It was about four years ago that I finally understood why I felt so uncomfortable trying to be feminine (what my mother was looking for in a daughter). I’m very lucky and proud to have such understanding family, friends, and coworkers who respect who I am and my choices. (He/him)
it was a rough day n i almost didnt even post but… this is my first year/tdov official out n i wanted to participate
happy transgender day of visibility! ! much love and comfort to all my trans sisters n brothers n non-binary babes!!
the gender dragon
So I work with mostly older guys in their 40s, and my coworker just told me this story about how his old friend’s child just came out as a transgender male, and how the dad was SO loving and supportive and embraced his son wanting to love and be happy with himself
and it sparked this discussion with a few of my coworkers where they were basically all like “that’s so great, I’m so happy that happened and people deserve to be happy with who they are” and it turns out way more of my coworkers than I expected are fully supportive of trans people
I just gained so much respect for these people I work with. This is beautiful.
My name is Dexter West, I’m a transguy, an artist, a writer, and overly passionate about video game characters. Guess it’s time for me to tell my story.
I’ll start with the basics: When I was young I never fit in, I played in the mud, and I refused to wear dresses or skirts (except for one that poofed up like a mushroom). I got picked on in elementary school a lot, and I grew quiet and reserved.
Jump forward to middle school. Bad scene phase, new haircuts, toxic friends, the whole nine. Basically it was hell and I didn’t know who I was. I got in relationships that left me broken, and friendships that left me scared. But I had my art, and I had my music, so I didn’t get too down.
Then, high school. My first year. I was with this guy who… Let’s just leave it at ‘didn’t like me being somewhere without him’ and he made me write his name on my wrist in sharpie so no one tried to talk to me on my first day. But that wasn’t my problem. My problem was, as I got dressed and showered in the morning, everything felt wrong. It always did when I let my hair down or put on makeup. But this day… It felt like a hand was pulling me to the floor in hopes I broke down in tears.
I felt broken. I felt like no matter what I did, I wouldn’t look right, I wouldn’t feel comfortable. But I pulled on those skinny jeans, let my hair down and brushed it nice, and put on my eyeliner just like my boyfriend liked. And I went.
Then a few months later, after I left the dickbag I was dating at the beginning of the year, I heard about a club called Gay Straight Alliance. I had been identifying as bisexual for about two years by then, so I felt it would be fun to go.
Somehow, by some miracle of nature and timing, I went my first day to this club on the day they spoke about being Transgender and what that meant. I fucking bawled when they said what being trans meant. I had to leave and go in the hall to calm myself down I was so happy. I wasn’t broken! I had a name for what was going on! What I thought was wrong with me!
That day, when I came home, I asked my mom, scared and nervous and probably on the edge of puking, if we could go get me a new pair of pants. She agreed, not exactly getting the subtle point, but what the hell, it worked. And when we got to the store, she just let me find the pants I want while she looked at some clothes for my sister in another section of the store. I grabbed a few pairs from the men’s section that looked near my size and started toward the dressing room. But that sign… Women’s.
I felt my whole body tense, but I turned. I turned away from that dressing room and walked toward the one I wanted. The old guy who watched the dressing rooms and took count of the clothes you go in and leave with didn’t say a word to me other than, “Let me know if you need another size” with a gentle smile. I had my hair short back then, but still sort of feminine. I think he understood though.
Either way, I went in and tried on the pants. Turns out sizing is pretty straight forward with men’s clothing… Anyway, I come out, hand the guy the two pairs I didn’t like, and held tight onto the pants I was gonna buy. Or at least try to. I wasn’t sure how my mom would take it. Or if she would understand.. So I stopped and grabbed a pair of boxers, only after looking up my size, and headed to find her. When I did, she gave me a confused look.
“You know those are men’s pants right? And are those-“ She started, but I finished her sentence with a shaky voice.
“B-Boxers. Yeah. They look… more.. comfortable..” After that, it seemed to click with my mom exactly what was happening, and when I managed to lift my gaze from the floor and back to her face, she was smiling. We walked over to checkout without another word.
The cashier, with the usual cashier happy tone, commented “Oh! Looks like it’s time for some more school clothes, huh?” And without fail, my mother replied “Yeah, my son’s growing up. Have to get him bigger pants. Shoes are gonna come next.”
There’s a point to this whole story. The point being that I am not broken. People like me are not broken. You have a purpose, you are strong, and come hell and high water, you can get through it to see a brighter tomorrow, just like I have. 3 years of me being out and finally comfortable with myself, along with the help of so many great people (Including my wonderful girlfriend who has done nothing but support and care for me), and I’ve never felt better about myself.
Happy Trans Day of Visibility, everyone! And remember tomorrow is always coming, and you’ll see the light again. I love all of you, and I hope you have a good day!!