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.
Trigger Warning: physically and sexually violent imagery, transphobia
I recently moved to Boston from NYC. Moving can be stressful for a variety of reasons. As a trans man with mental illness, it can be especially stressful for me to try to make sure all of my healthcare continues without gaps.
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.
“Living from check to check” is a common phrase in today’s society and economy. In virtually every country in the world today, and particularly in the United States, and whichever state you live in here, the number of people who survive ‘check to check’ has skyrocketed. Not only do I really live check to check, but I live… no, survive from event to event in my life.
For me, deciding to see a therapist about my gender dysphoria was a huge step. It was the first time I had told another human being face to face that I thought I was transgender. I was lucky; the psychologist in the area who is known for taking trans clients was full up and couldn’t take me. She recommended a colleague whom I had never heard of. I gave her a chance, and she turned out to be phenomenal. She was non-judgmental, listened well, asked insightful questions, and in the end became someone whose insights and ideas I trusted.
In 1988, when I had just turned 14, I made the life changing mistake of trying to figure out what I was using the materials I had on hand. In this case, it was a copy of the book written by Dr. David Reuben in 1968, “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* (But Were Afraid to Ask).” The book came from my mother’s top shelf on adult topics, and for a kids just hitting puberty and dying slowly with the changes, I needed answers. Namely, why did puberty feel so wrong, why did I feel a need to be female, and why did I pray every night to wake up right.
There was the equivalent of a 8.0 Earthquake in the psychiatric community this past May. Although very few people outside the trans community noticed it, there was a casualty. It’s name was Gender Identity Disorder (GID). The funeral was poorly attended, and the only people mourning it are right wing ideologues and rabidly anti-LGBT organizations who feel that LGBT people need to be as stigmatized as possible by the medical and psychological communities.
“I just don’t think I could handle that kind of rejection.” – George McFly
When you’re a little obsessed with your own mistakes, and you can replay every stupid thing you’ve ever said in your head, dozens or hundreds of times, until you become the biggest idiot in the world and can prove it mathematically, you tend to take some things a little harshly. Romantic rejection isn’t easy for anyone, but experiencing it with a healthy dose of depression and obsession is a whole lot less fun.
Note: I have not used any real names in this article. However, the people, places, and events described are real (to the best of my recollection).
Most people spend their lives actively seeking to create their legacy. For most people it is by having children, being good parents, and then good grandparents. For others it is the accumulation of wealth. Inventors have left indelible marks on our history and culture as well. Politicians and generals guide nations through both war and peace. For my childless, staff-grade officer Uncle “Michael”, though, there seemed to be no legacy after his senseless death in Iraq in 2003. Until now.
The fundraiser for my trip to New York to speak at the Callen-Lorde Community Health Center about transgender access to mental health care has come to a close, and we exceed our goal, thanks to the generous people who contributed donations. I’d like to recognize the following people for their donations:
I want to also give a very special thank you to Yael Cohen for her very large donation of $694, which helped complete our goal!
Other donators who did not wish their amount to be listed, but still recognized, include:
And finally, thank you to all the anonymous donators out there who supported this trip!
Sincerely,
Hanners Ellicott-Chatham,
Creator, QueerMentalHealth.org
