There’s a lot about my own personal journey with gender that has been horrible. There have been times I almost didn’t make it. There has been family lost, fights, hateful comments, and discrimination. Those are the struggles, and they do matter. But there has been so much great as well.
There was the first time I tried on a suit and my whole body shook and I almost cried from the euphoria. There was being asked to be my brother’s best man. There was the first time my parents called me Kian. There was the first time I was paid to talk about my experiences being trans and disabled. There was the trans sharehouse I lived in for a while. There have been countless queer friends. There was the time my sister brought home from work a set of pronoun badges for me. There’s every time when I put on an outfit and actually see myself.
Being trans genderfluid isn’t a burden. It isn’t a misery. It’s a delight and an adventure. I love jumping between male and female, loitering in the outskirts, sneaking a pinch of feminine into my masculine or vice versa. I love the euphoria when someone gets my pronouns right or my presentation perfectly captures the gender I’m feeling. I love how it feels when I am accepted and free to be who I am. I love being outside and inside of gender. I imagine my younger self finding out that when zey grow up, zey get to be a girl and a boy, and through the confusion I see the excitement.
I wish there had been visibility when I was young. I wish I’d known what trans was. It wouldn’t have made me trans, but it might have saved me years of struggling.