On joy.

February 25, 2024

I know I’ve posted a lot of anger, pain, and sadness about Nex and the state of the world for trans people in the last week.

Rage is more than valid right now. I’ve been advocating against this growing movement of violence and hate for half a decade.

I’ve progressed through the 5 stages of grief:

Denial that my journey from the pain of being closeted led me directly to the grief of realizing how much the world hates us for our courage.

Fury that has led me to exhaust my emotional energy as I’ve spent tireless hours educating, speaking up and out, and standing unapologetically for my survival with the constant burden of hyper vigilance and very real emotional and physical violence that I have personally experienced.

Bargaining and begging for help from the cis gender people in my life, whose acceptance I craved from the deepest marrow in my bones in the early days.

Overwhelming sadness when I realized that those same people never truly saw me as a woman, and my false support from them balanced precariously on my docility in spite of their ignorance.

Acceptance, finally, that our salvation will only come from the strength of our own community. That as much as I fight like hell for the living, we are the only ones who can truly mourn our dead.

This post is about none of that. This is my radiant trans joy that is persistent and motivating to keep going. This is an invitation to other trans people in my life to share their joy, access the strength of our ancestry, and to feel freely and openly.

I have run fundraisers like this before, but the need feels overwhelming right now. Immediately after the murder of Nex, calls to youth transgender suicide hotlines in Oklahoma spiked over 300%. Children are seeing the death of their peers and considering taking agency over their own loss of life. Do not look away.

This is the bare minimum. Trans people experience homelessness and poverty at rates unfathomably higher than cis peers. If you are lucky enough be employed, have a stable roof over your head, and can afford a daily latte or after work beer, you have $10 to help a kid think twice before committing suicide.

If you need to, do it for me.