Don’t Grieve Me

Coming out is a slow hard process.

I started doing it slowly, but eventually had to kind of do it all at once when I decided I needed everyone in my life to call me AJ.

There are a lot of peripheral people in my life I don’t see very often. Some I haven’t seen in years. They don’t necessarily read my blog or follow my instagram or my youtube channel.

The word is getting around. They are finding out I am trans, they are finding out I’m changing my name and pronouns. They are finding out I am on testosterone. They are finding out I want top surgery.

They are finding out from family and friends. They aren’t talking to me or asking me questions.

They are reacting. And the reactions are mixed.

Today I heard about one family member who cried. She cried tears of loss in hearing I’m transitioning. She told my mom she was sorry for her loss.

My Mom had a bit of hard time at the beginning of all this, but now she’s an incredible ally. She tells people, “My kid is happy, why would I be sad?”

Today we talked openly about names. I said “I want to go by AJ, but when I legally change my name I want to write a full name and I want your opinion on what that should be.” She suggested “Al” becuase that’s what she’s called me for much of my life. I don’t want to put “Al” on my legal documents. Maybe Alex, becuase Al could be short for that. I told her I liked Adam, which is what I know she would have named me if I had been assigned male at birth.

She was worried about me picking a name that belonged to one of my cousins. I reminded her I wouldn’t be going by that new name necessarily, I really like AJ, and even if I did, I haven’t been in the same room as one of those cousins in probably 10 years.

We didn’t discuss this, but I literally have two sisters both named Sam (blended families ya’ll). People having the same name isn’t that big of a deal.

The difference between my mom, and those other people who cried, is that she is celebrating with me. She is choosing to listen, directly to me, and learn both from me and from other resources about trans people and trans experinces. She’s also known me my whole life and isn’t terribly surprised. I spent most of my childhood trying to be one of the boys.

Not every trans person pushed against their assigned gender from a young age. But I definitely did.


Grieving me when you aren’t even listening to me is the worst thing I can hear. If you care, call. If you care, listen. If you care, learn.

People aren’t bothering to even learn the very basics of trans identities and it fucking hurts.

I’m still me. I’m the exact same person I’ve always been. I’m the best version of myself yet. I’ve had so much time to grow and learn. I’ve moved though careers and life stages and I even run my own damn business now!

I love my life. I love it so much.


I can’t imagine still holding on to the role of woman that was so uncomfortable for so long. It just wasn’t right. It never was. Not when I was 3 or 13 or 33.

I’m learning to love myself as a trans person, and I wish you could learn to love me too.

Don’t grieve me. Celebrate me. Because for the first time in my entire life, I’m starting to do that. I’m celebrating myself, I’m celebrating myself as a trans man and I just want my family and friends to get to know me and celebrate with me.

I like myself enough now that I take regular selfies. I never would have thought I could like a picture of myself a year ago! Now I love almost all of them!

A Big Step Forward!

I’ve spent the last few months wrestling with my gender and what exactly I need to feel more like myself.

I’ve consistently found that the more masculine I allow myself to be and feel the happier I am.

When my partner or good friends drop a masculine “He” or “Husband” my heart leaps out of my chest. Yes. That is me. That is what I want.

I still have a lot of work to do and each day I’m slowly tearing down walls. I still believe I’m not allowed to be this or do this. I’m not “allowed” to be a boy.

When I was a kid I was intensely and quietly jealous of my male cousins. I wanted to be them. I wanted that maleness. I didn’t want to have to constantly prove my identity as “one of the guys” but I did have to prove that over and over again.

I had no idea that trans people existed when I was a kid. If I did I would have spoken up. Instead I just did all the boy things and played with all the boys. I was recognized as a tom-boy, but when it came down to it, I was a girl. At school I was in the girls uniform, girls teams, girl everything. Besides having two great female friends to hang out with in those situations, it sucked. I wanted to be with the other group. I was in the wrong group.


“It Feels Selfish. It feels like giving myself… too big of a present.”

– Maia Kobabe on Top Surgery

I heard one of my favorite authors, Maia Kobabe*, say in an interview on Gender Reveal that top surgery would be “too big of a present” to emselves.

This resonated deeply with me. I feel this way about top surgery, I also felt the same way about testosterone. Its too nice, too big, and I don’t need it, so it’s just like a huge gift to myself. I also had a lot of worries about testosterone. Both of these thoughts slowed me from making any quick decisions, or even seeking out a doctor to talk to.

I’m a very sensitive person, I don’t do well on most meds, so I worried about just messing with my system at all. I worried about becoming angry and irritable. I worried about not getting to pick and choose my changes. I might get really hairy. I might go bald! I might have a lower voice! I might… I might… I might…

After months of research and watching videos and talking to trans friends, I finally decided it to move forward. I knew I could do a low dose and stop at any time and if I stopped early on I wouldn’t experience many changes and it takes time to reach the irreversible ones.

It took a few months for me to get in with a new doctor who cares for several trans people, but when I finally did the appointment was amazing. He was so affirming and kind and gentle. I was anxious but decided walking in that I had to be 100% honest and if it didn’t go well I could find a new doctor. That wasn’t necessary, he was great.

I struggled to articulate to him why I wanted to go on testosterone, “I’m not looking for any specific physical changes, I know it’s kind of a grab bag. I just want to feel… more like me… and I think maybe this will help.”

This cis-male dotor was tearing up and replied “I understand what you are saying and have heard similar sentiments from other paitents.”

I told him I wanted a low dose and he listened and did exactly that.

This day was the first day I felt confident enough to write “non-binary trans man” on my paper work. I had only said “non-binary” publicly before this. I gave myself more freedom to be me and it felt really good.

After finishing with the doctor I got my blood drawn. At the end of the blood draw I noticed the man who had taken my samples for testing had a trans flag sticker on his name tag, and was only about an inch taller than me. Until that moment I had read him as cis. I don’t know that he’s trans for sure, but not a ton of cis people go around wearing trans flags, and a lot of trans people work at this clinic.

This interaction alone gave me so much hope. Maybe someday someone will see me working my job and call me “he” and think I’m a short cis-guy.

Sitting in the waiting room waiting to meet with the nurse for my first T shot I decided to take a selfie. My last pre-T selfie.

A week later on 12-4-19 I went back and met with a nurse (also trans) who taught me how to do my injections and watched me do the first one around 11:30am. I felt really anxious.

After that I went on with my day, we got coffee, I went to therapy, had lunch with a friend to celebrate the occasion, and went to work. I didn’t feel any different.

The next evening I was just doing stuff around the house, hanging christmas lights, and all the sudden I felt different. I felt warm, calm, happy, energized, and… horny…. What?? I felt so good! I honestly think this is what I first felt the testosterone in my system, about 34 hours after my first shot it was affecting me and it felt awesome.

Over the next few days I realized I was actually excited about every possible change. I’m not sure how many times I’ve mentioned how hungry and tired I am to my friends (common feelings when you are early to T). I’m actually looking forward to my voice changing. I’m watching the hair on my belly start to get darker. I’m happy about all these things and more! I’m happy about the things I was scared of!

Going on T has been one of the best gifts I’ve ever given myself and I have zero regrets here in week two!

First selfie after my first T-shot at a coffee shop. 🙂

Footnotes:

* Maia’s book “Gender Queer” was what helped “crack my egg” or make me realize I wasn’t cisgender. In the book Maia talks about Spivak pronouns which Maia uses. Here are links to eir book and info about Spivak pronouns.

Gender Queer

Spivak Pronouns

I Made it Through Summer

It’s fall in Portland and the rain is back, earlier than usual. It’s only September 9th and its rained for the past few days. There was even a small tornado yesterday. Fall is here, and with it, deep breaths. 

I have some room to breath again. I made it through the first summer at the skatepark. Fourteen hour days, and seventy hour weeks. Camp was hard, but it kept the park open through the summer. Next summer will be even better.

I have space to make time for my child, and dishes, and reading, and writing. I’ve actually been writing much more the last two weeks, finally! It’s been a long summer of barely surviving; not enough sleep, no time for myself, and no energy to help at home. But here I am with a new balance. The park is doing ok, and I’m doing ok too.

Alongside running summer camp I was dealing with my own internal crisis of gender. It was in May when it first hit, a few experinces plus reading a book (Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe) had me questioning everything I thought I knew. I was exposed to new ideas and new terms in my journey of becoming a better LGBTQ Ally. Terms like “gender queer” and “non-binary”. I also read more stories of trans people, and through it all I realized, I’m one of them.

I’m not-cis.

I don’t have to fight to stay in the box. Even though this has been incredibly difficult it’s mostly been freeing.

It’s terrifying to question who you are at your core and that’s exactly what I was doing. It has been a harder change than losing my faith or discovering I was autistic. This wrecked me. I’m still scared. Most people don’t get it. I haven’t told all that many people yet, or maybe I have. I don’t tell strangers. I don’t have the energy to explain myself to them. When it comes down to practical day to day stuff I still walk though the world like a woman. But I’ve stopped forcing myself to feel like one on the inside. Which is hard to explain, unless you’ve experienced it.

I’ve always felt like I was trying to fill a role, and doing a really bad job at it. This role of “Girl” and “Woman” was a part I felt like I was required to play. Over the years I’ve slowly let go of many of the pieces, but internally, even if I was breaking many gender roles, I still felt like I was trapped in a box. A box that isn’t right. I’m not a girl. I’m not sure if I’m a boy. I often felt deeply jealous at all the boys around me as a child, but I’m not sure that I’m “binary trans.” But I know for sure I am not a cis-woman, thats why I really like the broad label of “non-binary.” I don’t fit in the binary. I’m something other.

I don’t feel like playing teacher, you can go learn for yourself that this type of gender is not really new. There have been genders outside the binary for basically as long as there have been people. It was the rigid gender roles of the first half of the 20th century that worked so well to erase anyone outside the cisgender and heterosexual “norm.”

There has been a big shift in trans visibility in the past few years (in that it exists) and this is feeding itself. As more people are exposed to these ideas more people can find their own identities, including myself. I don’t think I knew any out trans people until I was an adult. The only gender bending I saw as a child were butch lesbians and gay men in drag. I didn’t feel gay my (extremely rare) childhood crushes were all on boys, so I didn’t feel like I fit in the lesbian box so many people put me in as a child and young person.

Over the past few years I’ve been exposed to an increasing number of trans and non-binary people and I’ve found myself drawn to them in an unexplainable way. Not a crush, but more like a friend crush. I want to get to know them and hear their experiences. Maybe I’m weird, but It felt like and unspoken kinship. Each of these people has been instrumental in my own path of self-understanding and acceptance, because this hasn’t been easy. Figuring out you aren’t cis is an ugly slap in the face. You have to look at yourself and realize you are different from a lot of people and that with that is going to come some really hard shit. And you have the choice to affirm what you know is real or to deny it and suffer in silence as to not cause trouble for your family and community.

With my own slow self-acceptance has come hardships. Having to come out over and over again is really hard. I hate being vulnerable, and I hate having to explain things to people that are so intimate. I never had to explain my gender before, why should I have to now?

I’ve been really quiet in most spaces about what I am going through, and my own preferences. I don’t want to cause trouble. I don’t want to ask people to change what pronouns they use for me, even harder is asking for people to use another name.

I just don’t feel like my birth name and pronouns line up with who I am. They don’t fit, it’s like a shirt I grew out of. I can wear it if I have too, but its not comfortable, and all day I’m reminded that I should really put on another one.

At the same time I love my name because it was given to me by my parents. My name is one of the only things my dad gave me.

That’s why for now I’m starting to ask people to start calling me A.J. my first two initials. It honors my parents and grandparents, but feels so much more comfortable. I’ve also started asking people to use “They/Them” pronouns and switched them in all my bios several weeks ago.

I’ve actually played around with this version of my name in my head my whole life. I’ve always liked it, much more than the nicknames I’ve been given over the years to the point I’ve often thought about using it for a child. But now I’m finally going to claim it for myself, because my comfort and well being do matter.

My name is A.J. and I’m non-binary.





A person with light skin and blue eyes smiles. They are wearing thick rimmed glasses and backwards black baseball cap and a black t-shrit.
The other day I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror at the skatepark and it made me genuinely happy. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that before when seeing my own image. So I took a rare selfie.