Happy Pride Month!

I hope everyone can be proud of who they are, because you all deserve to be your authentic selves, even if the world says no.

I can’t lie. My heart stops whenever I see a transgender individual on the news. Under the current administration and the current political situation, it seems like the US is approaching a trans genocide. Juniper Blessing, Eryka Caldwell, and Persia Amarra Conway are just a few of the many beautiful souls lost this year. Juniper was in Washington, close to where I used to study; Eryka was in Brooklyn, one of the most LGBTQ+-friendly places (and a place where I intended to live in the future); and Persia was in Texas, the state where I’m currently residing. No matter where it is, trans people can still be affected by violence. Sometimes I wonder if it was correct to transition.

I’m an international student, and I’m residing under a family member’s roof right now. They sound very accepting of gay people (could be because they don’t want me to feel uncomfortable), but I hear transphobic rhetoric from them every now and then. I remember when it was said to a boy, “You know the transgender? You are a man, don’t be like that.” Or when I left the building dressed up as a girl, only to get told, “Next time, close your door. I don’t want my daughter to go in and think boys can wear makeup and dress up, too.”

It hurts, but not a lot? I know that I need to respect their rules if I’m still under their care. But I shouldn’t feel nothing when it’s a family member whose beliefs go against my identity. It’s alright, though; I will leave as soon as I finish my degree, and I won’t bother them anymore.

Do I get scared that I will get killed or discriminated against? Yes.

Do I get scared that many people I know will be against my newfound self and I will soon need to cut them off? Yes.

But will I continue with my transition? Absolutely.

In the past, I went from a gay boy into a gender-fluid teenager. I thought dressing up was fun, and I was indifferent to being a boy, so I didn’t want to become a trans woman.

I realized I was wrong.

I have grown so sick of people telling me about my appearance. They said I’m fat, I’m ugly, I shouldn’t think about marriage if I want to be a US citizen, etc. And every time I stood up for myself, they said I was making a big deal out of it, and that they just wanted “the best” for me. The worst thing about it is, my family was too concerned with the family name and values. They couldn’t understand why I was crying, blaming it on “the rebel phase.” They called me lazy when I only lay in my bed doing nothing, but asked “what went wrong” when I sat on a swing alone until midnight.

I hated myself so much whenever I stood in front of a mirror. I criticized every single miniscule detail, but was never motivated enough to do anything. My childhood went by like that, unremarkably to outsiders’ eyes.

When I had some money from my scholarship, I burned it all on shopping. A horrible financial decision, I know, but it was worth it. I put on makeup, a cute hime-cut wig, a nice corset, a flowy gothic skirt, black pantyhose, and a good, pointy pair of dancing heels. I faced the mirror again, and I smiled.

I smiled. I felt pretty, I felt confident, and I felt like me.

I realized that my view and identification of gender was rooted in pornographic materials. That trans women aren’t some fetish the manosphere often depicts them to be. To me, they are beautiful, they are strong, they are happy in their own skin, and they are human beings.

“But what if I simply just like crossdressing?” I used to wonder. But when I put these items on, I wanna feel like a girl, I wanna talk like a girl, and I wanna experience girly things. I want to go out, to have fun, and to be liberated.

I am a woman, and nobody can take that away from me. I shouldn’t have to be afraid that my mere existence will threaten my ability to live. I shouldn’t have to feel like being the happiest version of myself is wrong and unnatural. And I shouldn’t have to think that I don’t deserve anything nice that I dream of because of who I am. I don’t care anymore. I’d rather die knowing I explored the path that was worth living, than live a life that restricts me into a husk that can’t escape. I promised myself to be as gorgeous as I can be, and that if the world can’t change to become better, I will make it my history.

“Tiems kurių neliko
Tiems kuriuos širdy amžiais laikysim
Tiems kurie mus gynė
Angelai sparnus nelaiku nupynė.”

(“For those who are no longer here
For those we will keep in our hearts forever
For those who defended us
The angels wove their wings ahead of time.”)

– Evgenya Redko, Laikinai. 2021.