Well, transgender people are back in the news — thanks to the Trump regime. Trump, with the help of the Supreme Court, has banned transgender soldiers from the ranks of the military. This is, of course, a major slap in the face to these brave folks. Most, I am sure, would be willing to lay down their lives for their comrades in arms to protect this country — something their commander in chief would never consider.
The question remains: Why target transgender people? I happen to know the answer: blatant ignorance of who transgender people really are.
As a transgender woman, I can honestly say I don’t want to be a transgender woman. Then again, I don’t want to be a cis-gendered male — I tried that, and it didn’t feel right. What I really want to be is just a woman, a cis woman, but that is not an option, so I am the next best alternative, which, unfortunately, is imperfect. Despite not wanting to be transgender, I will, if you ask, proudly tell you I am transgender — something I wear in my heart like a massive badge of courage.
To someone who is not transgender, this may make absolutely no sense, so I’ll try to give an example that almost anyone can relate to: a cancer survivor. No one wants to have cancer; it is a scary prospect, but when one beats it, one will never forget the experience, and, in some way, may feel proud to have beat the monster that is cancer.
Like cancer, being transgender has casualties. People DO die along the journey. In the case of cancer patients, many just can’t beat the disease. I am sure more than a handful of people have decided to end their lives before cancer could do it for them. The same is true for transgender individuals — many choose to end their lives to escape the emotional pain, the lack of support from loved ones, the financial struggles when it is hard to find employment. Many transgender people are also murdered just for being transgender and trying to live as their true selves.
The main problem that trans folks have is it that it is so difficult to come forward and tell their stories. The risk of going public carries so many risks for transgender people — it can cost them their jobs, their homes and their lives. I fully understand this but refuse to stop going public with my story. My feeling is that if I don’t tell my story, my experiences, my feelings … who will? I personally feel that I have an important story to tell, as do other transgender people. People love to hear stories — stories teach us many things, they pass down knowledge from generation to generation, and sometimes they open people’s minds and hearts. That is why I keep telling my story.
Personally, I would have loved to have had the “full” female experience. Many women may scoff at me when I say that, but it is true. I know that many parts of womanhood are, to say the least, very unpleasant. Many of my female friends say “you’re so lucky that you don’t have … ” The list obviously includes a period, hot flashes, mood swings, etc.
While I do have mild mood swings due to the estrogen I am on, I don’t have the other physical experiences that are part of being a woman, including the ability to carry and give birth to a child — something that makes me sad. I feel like these experiences are what hold women together — and make them so strong. Two women on extreme sides of the political spectrum can still understand what it is like to be a woman and commiserate together, even aiding one another when they are in need. Men have nothing like this — at least not that they will openly share with one another.
I count myself as one of the “transgender survivors,” someone who managed to make it through the long arduous process of becoming myself, the person I always knew I was inside while the rest of the world had no clue. To get here, I had to come out twice, survive two suicide attempts, and deal with the loss of my career, my wife and two sons, and many years of my life. I am not in any way bitter about all this; mostly I am just sad, sad that I had to wait so long to live as the female me.
I started my transitional male-to-female journey in 2016 at age 50. Last year, I achieved the goal I was striving for — resulting in the culmination of a journey more incredible than anything I could ever have imagined. I am happier than I have ever been, and I have learned that I can love myself.
Mariel Addis is a native of Florence. She left the area for 16 years but returned in 2013 and loves being back in the Valley.