There is a part of myself so intimate, so sacred, that speaking it aloud would feel like betraying my own spirit. So, I keep a piece of it in the shadows; a grain of mystery woven quietly into the truth that follows. In the language I have found for myself, nonbinary, though “woman” is a truth I am moving toward, many people think that a man’s life must be easier, somehow free of the struggles expected of women. They are mistaken. If only they knew.
History has always played tricks with identity. High heels once symbolised power in the court of Louis XIV, worn proudly by men. Over the centuries, garments once meant for men became associated with women. In a way, my life mirrors that shift, expectations, roles, and identity, all evolving as I do. My life is not cinematic. Far from it. I have always depended on myself, reaching out for help only rarely. I live quietly in the light, often silently, and each day I navigate the world using whatever tools I discover along the way. Blending into social life is its own challenge, some days feel manageable, but most require extra caution. For many of us in the LGBTQIA++ community, even when people say, “It’s fine,” you can still sense the discomfort in the air.
Still, I am grateful for the allies I’ve found in CAEC, YQA, and Gender Links. Their presence matters deeply. But crucial information, accessible healthcare, and real support remain painfully scarce.
Every morning, I wake and imagine myself as the woman I know I truly am. In those quiet moments before the world awakens, I take small steps toward her. Sometimes I sense someone nearby noticing something different about me, but they say nothing, and I continue walking my path, unshaken. This is me.
Society, a word I often struggle with, does not embrace difference. To belong, you are expected to conform. Their idea of “normal” exists nowhere, yet it is demanded everywhere. Loved ones may say they accept me, but what I often feel beneath their words is hesitation, distance, and an unspoken belief that I am not who they expect me to be. It hurts. But still, I keep moving. I do not care. Do or die.
My strength comes from walking my own way. I am self‑motivated, always searching for the spark hidden in each day. I acknowledge the struggles of others, but I must walk my own path. If I can endure this, others can endure theirs, too. Where there is will, there is a way, and I follow it. I shine for myself, not for applause. Hurtful words bounce off me now. I keep going. If it sounds severe, then so be it, eat or be eaten.
There is another side of me that I call “The Dark Side.” It is dark only to others, never to me. I walk it quietly and confidently. My thoughts and worldview have shifted to a higher plane, broader and freer than before. I now pass through doors I once couldn’t even see. Pleasure, depth, challenge, all coexist here. And yes, I push boundaries. I don’t allow anyone else to hold control over who I am.
I know there is still a long road ahead. The full version of me has not yet arrived. I dream of living wholly as myself, unseen by judgment, untouched by expectation. I dream of a world where ease becomes reality for all in our community.
My motto remains simple: DO OR DIE.
But the challenges are real. Accessing quality, judgment‑free healthcare is incredibly difficult. Medication that could ease my transition remains out of reach. Compassionate, informed practitioners are few and far between. It saddens me that even within our own community, some distance themselves from those still in need. Those who have succeeded rarely share their true steps; that silence hurts. Too many barriers now exist between us. Change must come.
To my sister, and to anyone walking a similar path, stay strong. This journey is not easy. Transition brings many shifts, many moments of unrest, but you must push through. If you never step outside the box, the box will become the whole world you know. Open your wings; no one else will fly them for you.
Though the road can feel dim, I still believe that everything we need will one day be accessible. If I could fully transform tomorrow, I would embrace it without hesitation. For now, I accept what I have and keep moving forward. My dream is simple: to wake up in the body I know is mine, to become the woman I have always been inside. And I hold that same hope for trans men everywhere.
I wish the best for everyone in our community. May your journey be rich, gentle, and beautiful.
