Audio Transcript:

I come from ancestors who relocated to a “little Canada” in Maine to work in a shoe factory on the Androscoggin. From baked beans and red hot dogs on Saturdays and church on Sunday.

To this day, there’s something about the familiarity of former mill towns and “twin” cities that always brings a sense of home, though not always feelings of safety.

I come from Saturday morning bowling leagues, where even the less athletic, chubby, weird kids – like me—could belong.

In my early 20s, more than 2 decades ago now, I transitioned in the town I was raised in. At the time, leaving wasn’t an option and finding the care I needed required lots of traveling and educating providers.

It was awkward at times, not knowing what to say when I ran into someone who recognized me as familiar, but couldn’t quite place me. It was also scary at times. It wasn’t necessarily safe to be in a body that didn’t match what the world expected, depending on how they perceived my gender. Though I mostly blend in as a man these days, albeit a queer one, it still doesn’t always feel safe. Particularly in the current political climate.

I come from late night book binges and staying up way past my bedtime for just ‘one more chapter’. Books were an excellent escape from the disconnect between my brain and my body. And later, as I come to understand my own shifting identities, I flew through books by and about other queer and trans people. I took the opportunity to study these and write about my own experience more in-depth in a self-designed undergraduate program.

I come from queer and trans ancestors who paved the way for me to be on this journey. I met others locally -young people and adults, alike- through organizations like Outright and YankeeBoyz; knowing a future was possible for me, even though I still couldn’t quite imagine it at the time, lifesaving.

I come from virtual community built largely through LiveJournal; many connections I still have today. I come from other butches and their blue star tattoos, trans folks of all identities, femmes who loved me fiercely when I didn’t love myself, and bears who encouraged me to love my soft, round, hairy body just as it was. I am grateful for all that beautiful, queer love. I am flourishing because of it. I come from 22 years of testosterone injections (though the doses and administration routes have changed a bit). I still remember the hallmark changes like they were yesterday. I come from binding my chest starting in 6 th grade before I had the language to describe what I was doing and why; getting in trouble for being ‘mistaken’ as a boy. After “top” surgery some 15 years later, my body was much more in line with my brain.

I come from the still ongoing challenge of being “in” my body. My journey to feel at home – and safe—in my body is a daily commitment. I am learning to trust myself and my body’s wisdom is strengthened through therapy and practices like meditation, Tai Chi, Qi Gong, and dance.

I come from the love of folks who believed in me when I didn’t. The grit and determination to do the things others said I shouldn’t or couldn’t. To achieve a life that I couldn’t even imagine for myself before I started this journey. In the words of one of my favorite meditation teachers: “And the category is: THRIVE, b”. That’s what I aim to do and what I want for my trans and nonbinary siblings everywhere.