My Transgender Experience

I was raised in a semi-small town in the North West corner of Georgia. It’s a more conservative town where you are raised on respecting your elders and giving your life to God. Growing up in the Bible Belt isn’t necessarily a terrible thing for everyone. It all depends on who you are as an individual, and how proud you are to be said individual.

Now, I don’t have a specific memory of realization that I was meant to be a boy, just the gnawing feeling most of my life that left me feeling self conscious and inhuman. As a child I would beg my mama for the G.I. Joe toys, Tonka trucks, LEGOs, etc. She would give in and let me have these toys without a thought as to why, which was good for me because I got my toys of choice. The older I became, the more out of place I would feel. I remember when I was a preteen I developed a crush on a girl, and this crush would torment me for several years. It left me confused and wondering why I saw this girl this way. I was raised with the belief that homosexuality is a sin and all who participated in homosexual acts would surely burn in Hell. I kept quiet for five years about my feelings over girls and my dysphoria with my own body.

When I was 17 my family was moving, and this involved me transferring to a new high school. I was a very introverted teen, and rarely came out of my own little world of books. I made a friend in an art class who was openly out as a lesbian, and very proud of it. This was weird for me. Eventually she helped me come out of my shell, even though she might not realize how much she helped me, and I found a girlfriend within a few months of starting this new school. I had cut off all of my hair, my mom was extremely upset, and had attempted to start wearing boy clothes. I decided to come out to my mom as a lesbian, which she wasn’t surprised about at all. She wasn’t even mad, she gave me a hug and told me she knew. It was sort of a relief for her to be this accepting of my coming out. I was still left feeling misplaced in the world, I despised having to identify my sexuality as a lesbian. I truly felt as if I were meant to be straight even though I was attracted to girls.

A few months before my 19th birthday I learned what transgender was. My mind was blown. I was never educated on transgender individuals, keep in mind I grew up in the south and our church sheltered everything. I researched for weeks on transgender individuals such as Laverne Cox, Buck Angel, and Chaz Bono. Their stories were inspiring for me, and things started to fall into place in my mind. Is this what I had been looking for? I decided to test the waters and come out to one of my best friends. I told her my feelings of confusion, my dysphoria with my body, how I wish I could just be normal. She accepted me with open arms, and the feeling was such a relief. I felt the step in the right direction and started telling my other friends. The acceptance I received from them was unbelievable. Nobody thought I was going to hell, or committing some sort of unholy sin worse than homosexuality. I decided that I could not stand associating with my birth name and decided to find a name for myself that fit with my “rebirth.” Everyone had taken to it with such ease, easier than I thought they would.

After I had told everyone aside from my family my true identity, I decided it was time to try and talk to my mom about this. Sadly it was not such an accepting talk as when I had told her of my feelings for girls. I was told how horribly against God I was going, going to hell… Many heartbreaking things were said to me. I actually was unable to get many words in before I had broken down. After this unsuccessful talk I decided to come out anyways and stand my ground. I changed my name on Facebook, and made a little coming out post. It was easier for me this way after my attempt with my mom. Unfortunately it turned into a comment battle between my family, friends, and people I didn’t even know. My family was against me, and yet people who I had never even met were going toe to toe with them in my defense. I was in shock. Why did these people care so much for my feelings of validation and acceptance? It was thanks to these people that I learned about community, pride, family, acceptance, and unconditional love.

My experience wasn’t necessarily a terrible one, though it may have felt like it in my coming out days. Eventually I moved away from Georgia, met my wife, and started my transition. I have made many friends since then who I consider my family, and still keep small contact with my blood family. They still haven’t completely came around to accepting me, it’s pretty much a subject we just do not talk about. I do not allow this to bring me down, I show off my pride with my head held high, and cherish my experience because it is my own.