Thank you @purpleoctopusman for your support and attempt to answer this question. I only wanted to add on, since I am able to speak from a transgender POV, being a trans man myself.
Everything you’ve said above is very true, and an excellent example of how everyone within this community needs to support each other. Yes, gender and sexual orientation are two separate issues of identity, however the overlap between these two issues and the amount by which they influence each other is so great that we cannot afford to look at them as separate. For a lot of people (I would say the majority), gender identity directly impacts sexual orientation, whether you are cis, trans or non-binary.
That being said, it always deeply saddens me and angers me when some people within the LGBT+ community advocate for dropping the T from the acronym. It is bad enough that we already have to fight for our rights as non-straight individuals living in a prominently heterosexual world. For trans people like myself, that struggle is doubled because we are not only fighting against the straight majority, but also against members of the queer community who were supposed to be our allies.
For me, being a trans man has directly impacted how I view my sexuality, and it is not a mutually exclusive issue. Over the years, I’ve used multiple labels for myself, slowly coming to terms with each part of my identity as I’ve learned to really love myself and accept that this is who I am. Of course, all trans stories are different, but I am hoping that in sharing mine, others will also speak out so that we can get a truly representative perspective on this issue.
To begin, I was raised in a religious, homophobic, transphobic household. My mother’s side of the family is Mormon, and my father’s side is Catholic. When my parents married, they decided to deviate from both lines of religious thinking, meeting somewhere they considered “the middle”. I went to a Christian church for the majority of my childhood. I was forced to wear dresses every Sunday, and preached to every week about how I should be a good, submissive, God-loving woman. This went on for 14 years of my life.
Meanwhile, at home, I was dealing with a verbally abusive mother, and a physically abusive father. As the oldest of three, I tried to shield my younger siblings from some of the abuse, taking the brunt of harsh words and lashings myself. Fortunately, neither of my siblings were also struggling with ADHD like myself, which only made things harder. Despite being labeled as “gifted” in school, I still struggled with my academics. I had behavioral issues, and was on ADHD medication up until beginning high school.
Growing up for me was difficult. I isolated myself, for fear of enraging my mother and father. I frequently experienced anxiety attacks before having to attend church on Sundays. I struggled to make friends at school. In essence, I had no support system.
For the first twelve years of my life, I didn’t really question my sexual orientation. Up until that point, I had never really had any interest in romance or relationships. My first crush being on a girl was a major wake up call.
Up until this point, I did not understand that being transgender or being queer were even options. I had been raised in a bubble, thinking that everyone around me was cis and straight. That is how poorly our education systems, my parents and society have done to support queer people. Up until this point in my life there simply was no representation of queer people in the media or otherwise. Being queer was a taboo topic. No one spoke about it.
I can remember my years in seventh and eighth grade, and even throughout high school where LGBT+ terms such as “queer”, “gay”, “lesbian”, and “f*g” were used as slurs, and even simple insults. They replaced insults of “stupid” and “weird”. I was taught that these words held power, but it was never power for the right group of people. These words were being used with the intention to hurt, rather than pride and acceptance.
For a very long time, I simply ignored the fact that I was attracted to women. It was a very hard thing for me to accept about myself. And then of course, I had the characteristic bisexual panic that many of us do. I went from straight, to lesbian, to bisexual all in the span of a few months. I was constantly questioning the labels and trying to figure out exactly what my attractions were. It took me years (even after I had decided I had started using the bi label) to finally settle with and stick with that label for myself.
Meanwhile, my gender had always been something I was struggling with in the background. Dysphoria is still a beast I am struggling with today. It was hard for me as a kid to follow society’s expectations for what a “proper woman” should be. The few friends I did have in middle and high school were all boys. I didn’t want to play with girls or follow the traditional female roles in pretend games. Wearing dresses for church on Sunday made me extremely uncomfortable, and I grew to hate parts of my body as a direct result. Anxiety attacks became common place for me during PE classes, in public bathrooms and in locker rooms. It wasn’t until I finished my freshman year of high school that I was diagnosed with social anxiety and another med was added to my list of prescriptions.
Coming to terms with the fact that I was trans took even longer than figuring out my sexuality. All of the signs were there, but neither I nor my parents recognized them for what they were. To this day, I am simply thinking that my parents chose to ignore them. Thinking back on my childhood, any time a discussion was raised about gender roles or why I couldn’t do “boys sports” (and yes, I’m putting this in quotations because we all know that sports are not inherently gender-specific, however, my point is that my parents would not let me join a kickball team, or play baseball), it was always quickly dropped, or I was ridiculed for raising the question. Any time I asked my mother if I could cut my hair shorter, a verbal tirade of outrage was hanging on the other side of the question. The one time I took it upon myself to cut my own hair, my father beat me and locked me in my room for a week (me and my sibling’s bedroom doors had the locks installed on the outside and my parents often locked us in our rooms as punishment). Wearing anything even remotely resembling a masculine wardrobe was off limits.
I was so miserable and struggling so much with my identity and home life during puberty (which was an absolute NIGHTMARE) that I attempted to end my own life. Luckily, I was not successful, however the experience opened my eyes to how much of a problem lack of support for transgender kids is. The suicide rate for transgender children is higher than the rate for any other group of people. 40%! That’s how many transgender people have attempted suicide. 82% at least contemplate the idea. These are statistics that are WAY TOO HIGH.
Trans people shouldn’t be made to think that the only option for them is death. It is fundamentally fucked up to think that a child is contemplating suicide because they are struggling so much to find acceptance. Society has failed us. Our education system has failed us. Our parents have failed us. Our friends have failed us. Our media has failed us. And our government has failed us.
WE NEED A SOLUTION. And step one is support. Plain and simple. Knowing that someone is out there that you can talk to without judgement, who will accept you for who you are, and who will be there to support you makes the difference. If I had had someone I could talk to when I was struggling with my identity, the chances of me attempting suicide would have been practically nonexistent. Those negative feelings I was having about myself stemmed from the fact that I didn’t believe anyone cared about me or what I was going through. Discovering the LGBT+ community was my saving grace.
But that’s only because I’ve found and interacted with people who are supportive of me and who I am. TERFs and other queer folk who advocate against transgender people threaten the security and protection of this community. And if transgender people can’t feel safe even amongst other queer individuals, then there is no where left for us to turn.
Granted, my story is going to be much different from other trans people you talk to. Not everyone has it as bad as me, and there are certainly people who have it worse. I have finally come to accept all parts of myself, despite still being in the closet. The self-acceptance I have learned to have for myself took a LONG time. Almost two decades!!! And sometimes, this is too long. Not all transgender people have this much time before a successful attempt at suicide. THIS NEEDS TO CHANGE.
I’ve finally learned to love myself for who I am. I am a biromantic myrsexual transgender man with ADHD and social anxiety. And I am proud of myself for the journey I have taken, and the journey I am still taking. As I continue down this road, I want to speak up about the struggles I have faced and provide my support to others like me, because I know how hard it is to do this alone. I’m only hoping that by sharing my perspective, others will speak up as well and share their stories so that we can raise awareness and provide a community of support.
Whether you’re gay, lesbian, pansexual, bisexual, transgender, asexual, agender, non-binary, aromantic, intersex, queer, questioning, can’t find a label, don’t want a label, or identify with another term I haven’t listed, we are all in this together. We need to support each other, and it all begins with spreading the word, educating yourself, and not being afraid to stand up for just being yourself.
