Michelle, 20, Bronx, NY
My fiancé and I had a discussion about me dressing up as Michelle. When I told him I wanted to be fully transgender, he said he didn’t want me to have the operation. Tom’s worried about my safety. I would like to start hormones, but I feel like I pass as a woman already. I have man boobs. I’ve had them since I was 11 years old.
My fiancé and I met last year when I was living at the Ali Forney Center. Ever since then, we just started calling and talking to each other. Living in a shelter, things get stolen. My money, my wallet and my IDs were all taken. When I finally told Tom, he said, “Move in with me.” I said, “Okay.” Ever since then, we’ve grown a little more. He proposed in March. It was a total surprise. I think I have a total Cinderella package.
Tom is 43. Some of my friends grill me about the age difference. Age is nothing but a number. You’re not going to pass the opportunity for having true love. He is guiding me right now. He loves me no matter what.
Other than Tom, I also get strength from my grandfather, who pushed me to take what has happened and give me a chance for freedom. He calls me sometimes, but he knows I’m kind of in hiding from my immediate family.
I can’t say I don’t miss my family. I will miss them, especially my little brother. They don’t pick up their cell phones. I’ve left emails, messages, et cetera. It really hurts, but I have to live with it.
I think my mom is upset that I left her. The fact is that I was the one who did everything for her. I’d make coffee, make breakfast, do homework, get the other kids ready. After school, I’d go to work, come home and do the same thing over again. She’s pissed because she lost the one kid who did anything for her.
A lot has happened with my family. The story starts in my hometown: Mobile, Alabama. I came out as gay to my mother at 13. She knew my stepfather wouldn’t like the fact that he had a gay son, so she didn’t tell him until I was 18. She was right. I got kicked out when he found out.
The next night I had to sleep in one of the sheds at Home Depot. I walked 23 miles to get to my grandfather on the other side of town. My grandfather paid my way to come up to New York by bus.
In New York I was living with my cousins, but we got into some arguments and disagreements and I had to leave. My grandfather had to go back to India, so I didn’t have his help in the same way anymore.
After I left my cousin’s place I went to the Belleview Men’s Shelter, but I was too young. They referred me to Sylvia’s Place, where you have to sleep on the floor. Then I got accepted into Ali Forney.
Through friends at Ali Forney, I became a member of the activist group, Fierce. It was actually at Fierce’s annual Halloween party that I first dressed up as a woman. I feel more comfortable in women’s clothes. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always played with my mother’s high heels.
Fierce has helped me become an activist and a better person. Through Fierce, I also volunteer for Queers for Economic Justice. Now I want to become a psychiatrist. I want to defend the people who can’t really defend themselves. I want to give them what I learned.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Bronx, NY, 2011
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Trevor, 20, Montevallo, AL
I’m closer with my twin brother than anyone else in the world. When he came out to me as gay after high school, I had already been out since I was 16. He had seen what I had gone through but he never told me he was going through the same thing that I was. At the time I felt like it was a betrayal, but it was harder for him to accept he was gay than it was for me. He realized one day and didn’t know what to do. For me, I had realized for so long, so I was ready for it.
When I told my mom I was gay, she said, “When you were three years old you put a bra on your head and walked out in my heels and said, ‘Mama! I want to be a woman.’” She always thought I’d be transgender, and now that I’ve been doing drag a little bit she’s like, “You’re gonna like it too much. You’re going to want to be a girl.” But I assured her that, no, I don’t want to be a woman.
I feel more comfortable when I’m in drag. I’ve always been more feminine than my male peers. It’s not that I’m transgender or anything, but in the society we live in, I feel more anxious holding hands with my boyfriend as another boy than I do when I’m in drag. When I’m out of drag I dress kind of androgynous, in tight pants and a v-neck t-shirt. When I went to Auburn I could tell people would look at me kind of funny, like, “There’s that gay guy.” But when I was dressed as a woman no one looked at me twice, unless I was getting catcalled. But now that I live in Montevallo, there are so many gay people here. So I’m leaving drag behind a little.
At first my boyfriend didn’t know how to feel about me doing drag. Michael’s more masculine, and I’ve seen pictures of his exes. They’ve always been pretty feminine, and lately all of them have been turning into drag queens. But he’s very supportive.
Michael worked at Disney World with my twin brother. We went to a club and started dating the next month. That was two years ago, and he transferred to Montevallo this year. We’ve been talking about getting engaged, so we want to make sure we can live together first. He has the ring but he won’t show it to me. He wants it to be a surprise.
My parents adore him. My dad’s a really nice guy, but he scared the crap out of Michael. Both of my parents were in the Air Force, and my dad was deployed to Iraq so he had a gun in the house. He was like, “What are your intentions with my son? If you hurt him, I will have to shoot you.” My dad’s not that kind of guy, but he was doing it to make fun of Michael.
I’m very, very lucky my parents are so accepting. The military’s very focused on equality, but more about race and not about homosexuality, which is why I was scared to come out to my parents. It would have been an instantaneous thing if we had talked about it more. But as liberal as they are, it wasn’t something they felt comfortable talking about, I guess.
Because my parents were in the Air Force, we moved around a lot. I was born in Utah and have lived in Japan, Germany, Texas, Virginia and Alabama. I really liked moving around. I make and break friendships very easily. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I got to experience different cultures more than other people get to.
When I was young and naive I thought I’d be a judge advocate general. Then I realized I’m way too individualistic to be in the military. I’m just a protester at heart. I don’t want to stand in line just because people tell me to.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Montevallo, AL, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Hot Sause, 17, Nyack, NY
I got my nickname when my friends and I were taking hot sauce shots one day. It became some craze, and now everyone calls me that. I spell it “Hot Sause” since my name is Keana, but it’s not spelled like other names. People can still refer to me as Keana, but I feel like the name puts me into a box. I like that my nickname is gender-neutral.
I feel like I’m not really a boy or a girl. I don’t think people understand that. I’m performing in Guys and Dolls in my high school musical. I’m playing the character of Big Jule, who is supposed to be a guy. But since I’m playing it, they changed it into a girl’s part and changed the pronouns from “he” to “she.” I wish they had just kept it a guy’s part, though. I don’t know why.
But it’s the director’s decision. I love being in the show. I love practicing and acting. I’m very musical. I’ve been writing music since I was in the third grade. I started rapping recently and I’m actually performing at my school this Sunday. It’s a song I wrote called “Breathe.” It’s a rap inspired by all the things I’ve heard on the news about kids getting bullied and facing violence. In one of my verses, I say, “Stop the violence.” It’s really a radical poem.
I love music and I love helping people. I think I want to be a music therapist. It goes hand in hand. I want to bring joy into the lives of people who feel like they’re forgotten.
At Common Threads, I just grabbed the mic at the dance and started DJing. It was my first year going, and I was nervous when I got there. But then I felt so comfortable. Everyone in the whole place hugged me and I felt that love. At the end I cried because I couldn’t stay there. If it was a town, I’d want to live there. I had to leave all those good people who care about me and go into a world where people are not as nice.
I have friends at school, but not anyone I can relate to. Most of my friends at school are straight. They’ll talk to me about my issues, but they won’t get into detail. We don’t really talk about who I like. Maybe they don’t feel comfortable asking me about it.
I go to Rockland County Day School. I’m not sure if there are any queer-identified people besides me. That’s what a Gay-Straight Alliance should be for. It kind of upsets me that they don’t have one. They should have a queer-safe and friendly place. I’d love to talk to other people like me, and maybe they could introduce me to people. It’s kind of hard for me to date. I’m kind of shy when it comes to talking to other girls. There aren’t a lot of people I can talk and relate to. I can’t just walk up to a girl and know what her preference is.
I was in a relationship that was unhealthy. I met her online, and it’s not really good to do that. We were going back and forth and back and forth. She was confused about her feelings for me. She didn’t like the way I was referring to myself. She hated when I referred to myself as “he” sometimes. She didn’t really understand that. But I stayed with her, on and off for five months, because I had feelings for her.
That relationship took a lot out of me emotionally. Maybe if someone comes along, it would be cool. But now I’m just focusing on school and performing and acting, and just trying to get out of high school.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Stony Point, NY, 2011
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Kaden, 18, NJ
Two summers ago I played violin as a street performer in New York City as a way to make money for my top surgery. I loved everything about it. I played lots of stuff people would recognize: the Mario theme song, SpongeBob and some classical stuff too.
More than the music, the way you make the most money is by getting to know people. If you would just play, they’d maybe give you a dollar. If I connected with someone, they’d give me $5. If they thought I was homeless, they’d give me $10. If I thought they were giving me money for being homeless, I’d give half of it to charity.
You can be anything when you’re street performing. I would make up different names and different backgrounds. No one cares who you are. I’d test out male names. This was before I was on testosterone, but I passed as male 98 percent of the time. It helped me a lot during my transition.
It’s also a really great way to meet girls. Usually tourists, which was perfect, because we’d hang out and then they’d go back where they came from. I had a whole routine worked out. I’d take them to the Ferris wheel in Toys R Us, then to Magnolia Bakery in the Village. If they hadn’t figured it out already, sometimes I’d tell them I was transgender at Magnolia Bakery. Because you can’t be mad at Magnolia Bakery. But if it’s not going to be something serious, they don’t particularly need to know that I’m transgender.
I’m in community college right now. It sucks, but I’m saving money for top surgery this summer. At school, I don’t tell people I’m transgender. I’m kind of living a double life.
All my applications are in for next year. I’m so excited. I went to visit SUNY Purchase. SUNY Purchase is my safety school, and I like it, and it’s less expensive than the others, so I’ll probably go there. The thing I don’t like about Purchase is I don’t really want to be out, and I know so many people there.
I’m going to go by a new name in college. I got a new driver’s license and everything, but I’m not telling many people. Kaden is my transition name. I had my friends vote on it. Not many people call me by my permanent guy’s name. My parents said they’ll start calling me it, but to just let them know when.
As Kaden, I’m so associated with being transgender. If you meet other trans guys, a lot of times they know who I am because of all the YouTube videos I’ve made. I’m not the first trans person to be on YouTube. A lot of older guys were. Now there are about 200 young trans guys who are actively making videos. Once in a while I get a hate email. If someone happens to stumble upon the video, they might write something nasty, but it’s not people specifically targeting trans people.
Through YouTube, I’ve connected with lots of other people. When I was in London for spring break I organized a meet-up. I’ve organized two and a half other meet-ups in New York City. The one around Christmas at the Center got about 50 people.
I open the invitation to anyone. I just make sure no creepers are checking up. We’ve never had a problem. I’m just paranoid. I have a lot of Internet stalkers.
I’m going to keep making videos because they help me document my transition. They also help people come out. It’s a good way to show transgender people as real people. The media doesn’t cover trans people that much, so we kind of make our own media.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in New Jersey, 2011
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Sarah, 19, Brooklyn, NY
In Japan, if you have tattoos you’re in the mafia. When I saw my grandmother in Japan I had to cover mine up because she’d reject me as part of the family. I also couldn’t tell my grandmother I was gay. Having tattoos and being gay and going to art school? She’d be like, “What are you doing with your life?”
I’m half Japanese and half white. When I’m in America I feel more Japanese, but when I go to Japan I feel really white. It’s strange because I don’t really have a home. My mom has lived in America for 30 years but says she views her time here as an extended vacation. I asked her if she wants to move back to Japan, but she said she’s too old at this point. She’s basically cut off ties with my dad, so I told her she should do what she wants.
I was born and raised in Minnesota, but I didn’t really speak English until I was five. Now English is my primary language. I think in English. I dream in English. My Japanese is slowly fading.
My father doesn’t speak Japanese and my mom’s English is pretty bad. Growing up, I’d talk to my mother in Japanese and my father in English. We were rarely able to communicate as a group.
I’m really tight with my mom, and she’s awesome. Now I don’t really talk to my dad. His personality and my personality don’t get along well. I haven’t talked to my dad about being gay because we don’t talk, but I think he knows.
My mom knows and she understands and is awesome. In emails she told me, “I accept who you are, blah blah blah.” But a month ago she asked me, “Are you having gender troubles? Do you want to convert genders? Is it because of your father? Do you want to be a man?” And I told her, “It’s okay, I like being a girl, relax.” I had to calm her down a little bit.
I don’t think I officially ever came out. It was more of a gradual process. Straight kids don’t have to announce their sexuality, so I don’t think I should have to either. My junior year of high school I went to Oxbow, an arts program in California that has students from all over the country. I guess it was that classic coming-of-age experience for me. It was the first time I was independent and I had to figure out how to live. After that I started being more open about being gay.
Since I moved to New York I started being part of the queer community more. My roommate Mars and I started going to concerts, shows, fundraisers and political things a couple nights a week — whatever was happening. Minnesota has a queer community, but it’s not as visible and accessible as in New York.
I definitely chose my college based on location and the whole experience of living in New York, including the queer scene. I applied to the Cooper Union when I was a senior in high school and was rejected, so instead I went to the School of Visual Arts, but I figured I’d apply a second time to Cooper Union as a transfer student. I didn’t expect to get in, but I did. I was really surprised.
I’m going to be studying fine arts and visual arts in general. I don’t really know what I want to do career-wise, but I’ll figure it out along the way. When I grow up I want to be relevant.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Brooklyn, NY, 2012
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Marina, 21, Atlanta, GA
Sometimes people have assumed I’m straight because of my appearance. I date both guys and girls, and I’ve worried that people would just think that I was straight. I’m not so concerned about it now, but it’s something that I thought about when I was newly out and not really sure how I fit in. I felt like I had to prove my queerness. I’m more comfortable with it now and sort of do whatever feels right.
I identify as queer. Depending on who I’m talking to I’ll identify as bisexual, but I think the word bisexual, to me, sort of means two genders, which isn’t necessarily how I see things. I understand two genders exist in society, but they aren’t inherent or necessary. I go by female pronouns. More or less, I identify as female. That’s how I was raised to identify and how people view me. I’m a linguistics major, so I’ve thought a lot about these terms.
Being queer affects many aspects of my life beyond just sexual orientation. I work at the Center for LGBT Life, and the queer community here is very supportive. Other queer students on campus ended up being a ready-made social circle for me. Through the Office of LGBT Life, I’ve met so many people I’ve really connected with. Almost all of my close friends are queer. Emory is my first experience with any queer community. I didn’t really have that in high school.
I was only out to my very, very close friends in high school. It wasn’t something I talked about. To make my life easier, it was something I kept to myself. I knew that when I went outside of Inverness, Florida, that would change.
I had my first kiss with a girl when I was 13. She was a close friend of mine and we had a sort-of relationship, and she’d also be dating guys publicly. I was like, “I’m not cool with being your secret girlfriend.” As far as I know she doesn’t identify in any way as queer now. She has a kid and lives in our hometown. A lot of people from my high school have kids. There was a group of kids in honors classes and they’re in college, mostly at University of Florida, but I’m one of the few who went out of state.
Neither of my parents went to a four-year college, and my sisters and I all did. My parents both worked a lot when we were growing up to support us. I can’t remember them saying “You have to go to college or do well in school.” but it was always assumed that you will go to college and you will do well in school.
My dad is Mexican and my mom is white and from the South, but I’m not really emotionally wedded to one thing or another and never really fit into either category. Before I came to college I didn’t necessarily have the vocabulary for it, but I’m used to not necessarily fitting into a box. From a young age I’ve always been aware of race and ethnicity and how these things played into my life.
I told my mom I was queer a year and a half ago, but I never came around, I guess, to telling other members of my family. I decided several months ago to operate like I had already told my sister. We both use Twitter a lot, and I’d tweet that I was going to Atlanta Pride and I’d link to various queer events I was going to, so I assumed she knew. But I just officially came out to my sister yesterday. On Twitter.
My sister told my mom, “Marina’s never actually come out to me. I know, or I think I know.” But it seemed to my mom like she wanted me to tell her. So last night I sent her a Twitter direct message being like, “Hey, Mom said you wanted me to tell you this but you probably already know, so yeah…” She wrote, “Haha. Thanks, I guess.”
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken at Emory University, Atlanta, GA, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Raciel, 19, Brooklyn, NY
I wasn’t scared to move to New York. I’d been sneaking away to the city since I was 11. My friends and I would skip school and ask people how to get to the Village. My dad wasn’t a parent who was overprotective. I never gave my parents reason to disbelieve me.
I’ve been happy since moving to New York. Not as happy as I was in the beginning, but that was during the summertime when everything was great.
I was on the beach last summer, and guys would just hit on me. It was a lot easier for me to meet people in New York. It was on the beach that I met a 42-year-old guy who was a social worker at NYU. We only dated for two months, but I really got to know him. I really fell in love with him. It was so cosmic, I guess. It was one of the greatest times of my life.
But I had to get rid of him. He didn’t know what he wanted. It was so unstable. One minute he didn’t want me, and the next minute he did.
I couldn’t possibly date someone my age. Even if they’re only a year older, they’ve always been older. I tried to date younger guys and it did not work out. Kids my age usually jump into relationships, which I think is reckless.
But my mind is so stuck on school and work now, I don’t want to date. I was always the kind of person who needed to be with someone, but I want to party and be free. A boy would take too much away.
I’m smart and very creative, but academically I have my moments. I dropped out of high school in ninth grade.
The biggest problem was my mother’s instability. She had a boyfriend and it was all about him. We were constantly arguing. I was going to move in with my dad, but then he called me up and said, “I don’t want your gayness in my house.” So I got in contact with my aunt and uncle in Pennsylvania. If I had my own car I’d probably still be there, but I don’t like depending on people.
So I told my dad I couldn’t stay with my aunt and uncle and he said, “You are my son and you are coming to stay with me.” When he said I could stay with him in Newark, New Jersey, I couldn’t believe it. But I didn’t find myself going anywhere there. That’s where my homelessness started. I could go home if I told my parents I was done with this struggling, but then I would be at step one. I didn’t come this far to go back now.
I was never on-the-street homeless. I did my research. I wasn’t going to stay at a regular men’s shelter. It’s very dangerous. I stayed at the Covenant House for 40 days. That’s when a bed opened up at Ali Forney. There are only so many beds. There are 4,000 homeless kids who identify as LGBT. If you don’t know about the services, you’re out of luck.
I got my GED at Hetrick Martin Institute. My teachers helped me out so much. I totally felt comfortable being around so many gay kids, and it helped me accept myself even more. I never say that out loud, but it’s true. Growing up with my parents throwing it in my face all the time, it was really hard for me to accept being gay.
But since moving to New York, I act how I want to act. I have an internship in PR and am going to school at Kingsborough Community College. I’m so proud of myself. I’m kind of surviving. It’s not New York City unless you struggle.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Brooklyn, NY, 2011
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Audri, 15, Laurel, MS
I’d always been that weird kid in class who no one really liked that much. I was called He-she, It, Dyke, Transvestite, Sir. This is from people I went to school with since kindergarten. I got pushed up against a wall in eighth grade by a girl I’d known since third grade.
From the time I was in school until my mom pulled me out to be home-schooled, I was really, really, really angry. I acted stupid. After I left school I started to calm down more, and was happier. Less punching holes in walls and throwing hissy fits about everything. I didn’t have to deal with people calling me names. I felt more free.
One morning about two years ago my mom tried to wake me up to go to school and I refused to go. And she’s like, “If you don’t go you’re grounded, blah blah blah.” I told her, “You don’t know what it’s like to go to that hell every day.” Every time I went to the bathroom someone was calling me a man or tormenting me.
My mom went to the school and called me back 30 minutes later. She said, “Well, you’re not going there anymore.” I was living with my dad before, and I don’t think he realized the extent of the bullying. He basically laughed at me and said, “You’re gonna deal with high school like everyone else.” My mom realized a little bit more.
I came out at, like, 12 years old — first as bisexual. I thought I liked guys a little bit but I really did like girls a whole lot. I came out to my mom before I came out to everyone at school. I was like, “I have something to tell you,” and I couldn’t get it out. And she said, “You’re not sexually active, are you?” And I’m like, “God, no. I’m kind of bisexual.” She’s like, “You’re 12. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Go back to sleep.” But now my mom is a PFLAG (Parents, Friends and Family of Lesbians and Gays) mom and has rainbow stickers all over her car.
And I was kind of scared to tell my dad. But he was like, “Whatever tricks your trigger. Just don’t be tricking it too early.” Then we’d be checking out girls at Wal-Mart. My dad died last year, so he didn’t get to see all of the activism I’m doing and what I’ve accomplished.
When I came out, I dated all these girls and maybe two guys. Being the only gay person out in school, girls would come up to me and say, “So I’m gay.” Even if I was just friends with someone and walked them to their locker, there’d be a rumor they were gay.
The girls I dated weren’t out, and they were very feminine. I dated a cop’s daughter and the youth group leader’s daughter. That was when I was in school. I was kind of a little player, confident and cocky.
The year after I left, a lot of girls at my school came out. They didn’t really get teased because they dressed feminine. A lot of people aren’t comfortable with a girl who dresses like a guy. I know I’m a female, I just look like a guy. I know I’m not transgender, and that’s what people around here don’t understand.
I got involved with gay activism last year. I watched the TV network LOGO a lot and I saw a movie, I can’t remember what it was about, but they mentioned PFLAG in it. And I was like, “I wonder if that’s real?” So I went and Googled it and I found a chapter in Laurel. Then, at the second meeting at PFLAG, the Mississippi Safe Schools Coalition came. I wanted to get involved more and help people not have to go through what I went through. I want other kids to be able to go to football games and pep rallies and have the high school experience.
I’ve gotten to go around Mississippi and speak to people. I’m 15 years old and talking to college kids, and I’m like, “This is the problem and here’s how we’re gonna fix it.” It made me grow more and learn.
There are some things I missed out on by being home-schooled. Me and my friends drifted apart a little bit. I did think about going back but I don’t regret being taken out of school. I’ve done so much at 15.
I want to start college next year so I can get out of this stupid town, which I can’t stand. I’m ready to get started and get on with the rest of my life. And this is gonna sound bad, but it kind of warms my heart that all these people who picked on me are idiots who are barely passing. They’ll be starting 11th grade and I’ll be a freshman in college.
I want to stay in Mississippi for college. There’s gay flight in Mississippi because everyone thinks it’s so horrible, so they leave. And nothing ever changes when all the gay people leave. Conservative people will never be used to a butch lesbian holding another girl’s hand, or two guys holding hands, if they don’t see it. There’s lots of work that needs to be done and it really makes me happy to get to do it.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Laurel, MS, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Noah, 19, Macon, GA
Before I left for college, my parents told me not to tell anyone at school I was gay. But I was so excited about being in a gay-friendly place, the first thing I did when I got to campus was find out who was in charge of Common Ground, Mercer’s Gay-Straight Alliance. Now I’m the president.
I made the decision to get involved with a lot of different things at school. I’m the photo editor of the school paper. I’m in Amnesty International. I’m on the table tennis team. I also do my own photography, and I’m having my first gallery exhibit this winter. Plus I’m trying to keep my grades up while having a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend, Kayden, in Atlanta, which takes the commitment of a full-time job. I have to force myself to sleep.
Mercer is a small Baptist school in the South, so it’s not going to be a liberal school. But it has a history of gay activism on campus that I didn’t tell my parents about when I was applying. My parents know I’m president of Common Ground, but I don’t think they realize what a big part of my life it is. I didn’t know any gay people before I came out, so I figure it’s my job and responsibility to make sure it’s easier for other people.
I was 16 when I came out. I told my friend, and he thought I should tell my parents because he was worried about my soul. They weren’t thrilled. I had to go to several Christian therapists. Not ex-gay therapy, but ones that try to work out what’s best for you.
A month later I actually got kicked out of my school. I told only two people at the school I was gay, so I know exactly who told the administration. It was a private school, and they had a secret meeting. It was about a week before my senior year was about to start. I had enough credits, so I just graduated early. It was rough. I didn’t feel like God loved me or my parents loved me. All those things happened at once, and it was intense.
December of that year I tried to commit suicide. I tried to swallow a bunch of pills. A friend called when I was doing it, and she talked me out of it. Then I decided not to feel so sorry for myself.
Looking back, I think it was a half-hearted attempt. But back then I thought I was so serious. I really did believe it was the only option. I really did.
Afterwards, I sent my parents a garbled letter in emotional language. I don’t think they know the extent of how serious it was. I think they thought I was being a hormonal teenager, which I sort of was.
That was two years ago. Everything is so much better now. At college, no one cares that I’m gay. My brothers and sisters don’t care, and my father’s trying to be accepting. This summer, my mother said she’d rather I be a drug dealer than be gay, because there’s rehab for being a drug dealer. But just recently she told my dad, “I’m not going to be one of those Christian people who hates gays.” She’s making an effort, and in turn I’m trying to be as sensitive as I can be to her needs.
Like, I try not talking about gay stuff around her, and when I’m with Kayden I try not to be handsy. It may not be the best situation, but it’s improved dramatically.
Kayden’s coming over Christmas Eve. He’s never been here on a holiday with my extended family. I anticipate that no one will say anything. It usually bothers me when people don’t talk about stuff, but in this particular case I’m kind of cool with it. I used to think that when people didn’t say anything, they were thinking all sorts of bad things. But now I realize it’s that they’re making a conscious effort to be more accepting.
Kayden and I have been together two years. We met when we both lived in Alpharetta, Georgia. Now he lives in Atlanta and I live in Macon, but we try to see each other every weekend. It’s actually good on a small campus like Mercer, where everyone’s in everyone’s business, to date someone from outside the bubble.
But we don’t have that connection you have in a relationship where you see each other all the time. But we work at it. Skype helps. I feel very lucky to be with him. He balances out of all the things I can’t take care of on my own.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken at Mercer University, Macon, GA, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Ryan, 17, Long Island, NY
I feel like this isn’t my body. In my mind right now, walking around my room, I feel like a boy. Then I know when I walk in the shower I’m going to totally freak out. I try to shower in the morning when I’ve just woke up, because I’m focused on what’s going to happen in the day and my eyes aren’t really open yet.
Once I get my top surgery I don’t think I’ll feel that way. Bottom surgery isn’t the top priority for me right now. Everyone has to wear pants. It’s not like it’s hard to hide, and right now bottom surgery is really terrible and expensive. Technology is always advancing, so maybe I’ll have bottom surgery some day when it’s better.
I’m starting hormone blocker treatments next week, so after I have top surgery I’ll stop having female development. I was supposed to get top surgery in June and then I found out I couldn’t get it until August. I got really upset about it, because I’m going to miss the whole summer and not be able to go to the gym or swim. It’s just a pain, swimming with a binder and everything.
Because I’m not 18 yet, I have to get my parents’ permission to have top surgery. My dad signed the paperwork, but the other day he asked me, “Are you 100 percent sure?” And I’m like, “Duh.”
I don’t know if I’ll go on testosterone. I’m really nervous about how it would affect my singing voice. I’m waiting to see what happens with my music career. If I were to go on T, it probably would be later on in my life. If I have a totally different voice, I might lose fans or I wouldn’t be as good. It would kind of be like starting a whole new career. But when I picture myself in three years, I’m on T and I have a really awesome beard.
Being transgender and being a musician go together for me. I’ve been doing a lot of speaking gigs. I just spoke at the Rotary Youth Leadership Awards, and then I sold 40 CDs afterwards. I’m recording an album, which is coming out in May. This summer’s going to be big for me. In June I’m playing at Milwaukee Pridefest with my studio band in front of 10,000 people.
When people find me through my music, a lot of them know I’m transgender and some of them don’t know. But when they friend me on Facebook, they find out. I don’t think they know while they’re watching me perform.
I love playing solo, and also love playing with my studio band. The energy is bigger and better with a band. I’ve played almost 200 shows. I’ve been on tour a few times. Everything’s DIY, which is “do it yourself.” The music industry is dying. You don’t make much money these days. That’s why some start learning about investing, such as roth ira uk, to make money. I book everything myself. I do all my promotion myself. My mom drives. Usually I’m supposed to pay for gas on tours, but on the last trip she was like, “It feels like a vacation. You don’t have to pay for gas.” She’s that rock ‘n roll.
When I first started performing, a lot of girls would hit on me after the shows. One girl wrote my name all over her notebooks at school. Another girl pretended I was going out with her. Some really weird things happen when you’re performing.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Long Island, NY, 2010
