trans women Archive

Transgender Day of Remembrance, 2015

Another year has gone, and sadly, so have way too many people. Transgender Day of Rememberance is the day where we remember those who have lost their lives to transphobic hatred. Please take a moment to remember them, and to recognize that the vast majority of these victims were women of colour.

Hanners Blackthorne,
Creator, QueerMentalHealth.org

Transgender Day Of Rememberance, 2013

Trigger Warning: Transphobia, Murder, Hate, Suicide

This is the time of year I dread. I wish we lived in a world where we didn’t need a day like the Transgender Day of Remembrance, but we do. And the numbers are staggering, growing each year. Not because more trans people are being murdered now than ever before (though that may also be the case), but because more victims are being recognized and identified as transgender, and more of these crimes are being reported and recognized as crimes.

Identity

I have pretty much always identified as female. Cis-gender. I have never thought about anything else, really. I have never been aware that there are other options out there, much less considered them. But I’ve also been on the tomboy side of female, right from the get-go. I hung out with boys, I beat up boys, I followed boys into the bathroom and watched them pee. I really really wanted a penis, and I tried as hard as I could to grow one. I remember when I was little I’d sit in the passenger seat of the car as I went with one of my parents on an errand-running mission, and I would feel a certain friction between my legs or against my groin from the way I was sitting on the seat, the way the seatbelt fit or my pants were tugging, and imagine a penis growing between my legs.

Trans Activism and Burnout

Over the past few years, I’ve worked hard to try to participate in activism that was relevant to my interests and identities, and also to recruit others into that activism. Trans folk, and trans women in particular, have long had an inclination and good reason to hide from society, to “go stealth” as we call it in the community. Societal pressures pushed us into a permanent closet that more closely resembled a mausoleum than the relative comfort of the closet. Our past was dead and our present remained cold and isolated, with few if any places we could reveal our history in a safe and confidential space.