Trans Day of Remembrance: Mourning Loss, Celebrating Spirit, Securing Tomorrow

Today is Trans Day of Remembrance.

I woke up this morning and had to practice square breathing to ground my nervous system.

This day can bring up so many emotions for us.

There is grief. Grief for the lives lost. Grief for the many acts of legislation poised against us. Grief for the inequality and inaccessibility of care. Grief for estranged family members and former friends. The grief of feeling invisible. The grief of feeling too visible, of not fitting in. The grief of who we thought we were. The grief of who we used to be. The heavy grief of fighting against a system to be who we truly are. The grief of knowing so many of us don’t make it.

The grief of being one of the few that does.

I was almost part of the heartbreaking statistic many often see when it comes to Trans lives: our suicide rates. 

I had spent most of my life hiding. I didn’t know who I was. I just knew I was different. I didn’t fit in. I was wrong. 

I thought all my feelings were because I was somehow inherently broken inside. Unfixable. Incurable. With my only hope being to dedicate my life to serving others and making them happy just to gain acceptance. To escape ridicule. To hopefully, just maybe, not be hurt.

But it didn’t work. And it wasn’t me. I was so far lost and so far gone, I took it all out on myself. I punished myself every way I knew how. 

This included the development of an eating disorder in my teens.

Not only was I punishing myself for not being enough, I quickly realized I could “control” my body. I had always felt my body was wrong. I thought maybe shrinking it would help. And if it didn’t, at least I would be able to disappear.

I suffered for years just not knowing there was a way out. Not knowing it wasn’t me that was broken.

And I attempted. But I failed.

And then what.

Then I had to face myself. Raw, unfiltered. Utterly hopeless and broken.

And I had to decide. I had to decide if I was really done, or if maybe there was a chance at something more.

The day I came out as Trans was the day I chose life. Coming out as Trans saved me from myself. It helped me finally have the strength, courage, and autonomy to fight my eating disorder. And being in recovery for my eating disorder has given me life. A life I never dreamed could be possible for me. My eating disorder was an escape. Once I found myself and my identity, I didn’t need to hide anymore. It would be a long uphill journey of treatment and recovery just to get me back on my feet, but for the first time in my life, I was living as me. For me.

I am one of the lucky ones. My attempt failed. And I was then surrounded by the most supportive and affirming team anyone could ask for. They fought for my identity. They fought for ME. That made all the difference when I was at my lowest.

That is why I am here now. That is why I share my story. To offer hope. You are not broken. It is society that is broken. The society that tries to tell us we are wrong just for embracing who we are, for living as our authentic selves.

You don’t need to listen. There is another way out. There is hope. And you matter. You matter as YOU. Nothing anyone can say or do will ever take that away.

Today, we grieve and honor the Trans lives lost. 

Tomorrow, we fight for the living. 

I am fighting for you.