I almost killed myself two or three times in 2019. I know that sounds dramatic, but it is also true. I’m not saying this to garner sympathy, or even worse, elicit advice. Rest assured, I am taking the steps necessary to improve my state of mind. It is just that being trans can often feel like existing in a vat of acid eating away at your dignity and integrity. It is the rare trans person who hasn’t contemplated escaping the pain through drastic means. If you don’t believe me, find a trans person in your life you happen to be close to and ask them if they’ve ever created a suicide plan. Don’t be surprised if they have a ready answer.
Perhaps my first column of the year should be about looking forward with a sense of optimism, but that doesn’t reflect my life as part of the trans community. I sometimes wonder if cisgender people appreciate how difficult it is to be transgender in today’s world. They might be able to quote the suicide rate for trans people, but I suspect they are detached from the reality of our everyday lives. They don’t actually experience the emotional stress of hearing about yet another government policy meant to incrementally erase the legal status of trans people. They can’t comprehend the blinding fear of coming out as a trans woman to a cisgender heterosexual man who might decide violence is the appropriate response.
The thing is, I don’t think cisgender people are to blame. We haven’t done much more than present some grim numbers. However, as Stalin is reported to have once said, “The death of one person is a tragedy, the death of one million is a statistic.” Yet too many transgender advocates believe that statistics will do the heavy lifting of rallying allies to the cause. Problem is, it isn’t effective. Just ask climate scientists how well it is working out for them. Quoting the high number of trans women murdered in any given year, or the microscopically low rates of de-transition, is simply not compelling to the very people who most need convincing. What we need to do is make emotional appeals by sharing our experiences. To that end, here is a slice of what my life was like as a transgender person in 2019.
In 2018 I made a video on my YouTube channel about how coming out as a trans woman led to the end of my marriage. I described how, without any means of supporting myself at the time, I was forced 900 miles away from my son to move in with my mom. I cried on camera about how much I regretted not being a full-time parent and missing milestone moments. I exposed my private pain in the hopes it might help another transgender person feel less alone with their own. Yet someone decided this year to comment on this gut-wrenching video about how sad they thought it was that we live in an age where a man can put on dress and call himself a woman. As if my transition was the result of a whim or a fetish. As if it didn’t cost me everything I had ever known. I blocked them and tried to forget how much the comment hurt. I blocked someone every day in 2019.
I read about a transgender woman named Julie Berman. Julie lived in Toronto and worked as a hair stylist. A local transgender activist for 30 years, and outspoken critic of violence against trans people, she was best known for having given a speech at the 2017 Transgender Day of Remembrance about the murder of her friend. Two years later, police were called to her home and found her with a blunt force injury to her head. She later died at the hospital. As I read about her story, I tried not to dwell on our similarities. I also tried not to feel scarily vulnerable given the number of people who have called me a perverted sicko and would probably like nothing more than to hurt me if they knew where I lived.
The capper to 2019 was reading in a J.K. Rowling tweet about her support of the anti-trans beliefs of Maya Forstater. Maya lost her court case after suing her U.K. employer for not renewing her contract when her transphobic online postings came to light. With one tweet, the immensely influential author of a magical world that hinged on the defeat of evil people who believed “pureblood” wizards were superior, had made it known she didn’t think I was “pureblood” enough to be a woman. J.K. made my life, and it should also be noted the lives of trans kids, more difficult from that day forward.
All these moments and more made 2019 a dumpster fire of a year. Looking forward to 2020 is not much more promising. A landmark Supreme Court decision is likely to decide that trans people are not protected under current law banning sex discrimination, not to mention a looming presidential election that may very well reinstall an extremely trans-hostile administration. Good news for my therapist, but terrible news for me, and the trans community as a whole.
Melody Maia Monet has her own YouTube channel where she answers lesbian and transgender life questions you are afraid to ask. You can find it at YouTube.com/MelodyMaia.
