Soul Deep Joy

Happy Trans Day of Visibility, beloveds.

I've learned so much since coming out as non-binary (under the trans umbrella). I’ve learned that it takes courage to be ourselves in a world that wants to minimize, hide, and erase us.

But here I am. And here we are.

I’ve never fit the gender binary. The gender binary has never fit me. I've known it since I was five, as gender rules became salient. I've known it every-day since.

A dear family member asked me last year how I've been since coming out. I shared: I am Joy. I am Peace. I am Love. I feel more myself and in my own skin than I ever have in my life.

For years, just knowing I was non-binary was enough for me; I didn’t plan to come out. I didn’t think I ever would. I didn't want to draw attention to myself because internalized transphobia is real and toxic. Even before I told anyone about being non-binary I had found a quiet kind of freedom. Truth rested deep in my soul, letting me breathe deeper than ever before. The kind of freedom that says, you’re not broken—you’re whole. 

I continue to learn deep wisdom trans folks who’ve come before us, paved the way, risked significantly. Trans folks still teach me what it looks like to be brave, to resist, to choose truth over the lies the world keeps repeating, that no one is an expert in you except you. They showed me that the gender binary harms everyone—not just trans people—and healing and joy are possible.

Lately we’ve watched Executive Orders and increasing violence vilify trans and non-binary folks. Laws target young people, distrusting and making illegal their parents' and doctors' wisdom and expertise. People use lies and fear to justify harm, attempted erasure, and violence. Executive Orders claim to protect women, while reinforcing patriarchal, binary systems that harm us. Folks like Erin in the Morning track and monitor laws; please follow and pay them for their labor. Today I choose to use my words to speak love.

I want to speak encouragement and love to the young trans kids, teens, and adults who are just beginning to see themselves clearly: You are not alone. You are already whole. You are worthy of love and joy.

Sometimes I lie awake at night wondering how different my life would have been if I’d seen someone like me growing up. It would have been transformational if I’d had even one example of a non-binary person living freely and joyfully. 

Recently, we sat on the porch with friends whose son came out as trans over the last few years. The way they’ve shown up for him—fierce, tender, unwavering—is beautiful. They’ve supported and stood beside him as he’s navigated school, family, and even the weird, exhausting logistics of faking that he's cisgender around extended family. Their love and protection blows me away. I cry tears of joy for him.

That’s the world we’re building. That’s the hope of being ourselves, one person at a time. Even as exclusion and transphobia increases, I see trans people everywhere thriving. I see us loving each other. Building community. Living out loud. I see resilience in motion.

I also know the cost of hiding.

There is a soul-crushing toll to denying our transness—to trying to be someone the world says we should be. It can feel like a slow suffocation, a dimming of light, a constant grief. For me, the cost was steep: disconnection from my body, my truth, my joy. Disconnection from myself.

So no, I will not go back. We will not go back.
None of us should have to.

Trans people do not owe anyone our silence to make them more comfortable. We do not owe anyone our pain hidden behind polite smiles. Nonbinary people don't owe anyone androgyny. Trans people don't owe people the goal of looking cisgender. We are not interested in shrinking. We just want to pee in our bathroom, just like you do. We have seen ourselves, we know who we are—and once you know that kind of truth, you don’t un-know it. You don’t go back.

Not because it’s easy. But because the alternative is a life half-lived. And we deserve full, radiant, unapologetic lives.

We are not a tragedy.
We are not a problem to be solved.
We are beauty, joy, art, tenderness, vision, revolution, healing.

Want to Learn More or Take Action? Here Are a Few Places to Start:

1. Learn from trusted sources.

• Transgender Law Center – Advocacy, legal support, and education.

• GLAAD’s Transgender Resources – Includes media guides and ways to be supportive.

• The Trevor Project – Focused on LGBTQ+ youth, including crisis support and education.

2. Reflect and unlearn.

• Examine how your assumptions around gender were shaped.

• Read books like “Beyond the Gender Binary” by Alok Vaid-Menon or “Trans Like Me” by CN Lester.

• Ask yourself: Where am I reinforcing the gender binary? Where can I interrupt it?

3. Use your voice.

• Speak out against anti-trans policies, laws, and rhetoric—even (especially) when it’s uncomfortable.

• Write to your local representatives. Call them. Vote with trans lives in mind.

• Share posts, articles, and art by trans creators. Let people hear our voices.

4. Show up with love.

• Support trans people materially—donate to mutual aid funds or trans-led organizations.

• Celebrate our joy, not just our struggle.

• Believe us. Honor our names, our pronouns, our truths.

To those who are curious, open, and loving—there’s so much to learn from us. Show care, humility, curiosity. Listen. We have stories and wisdom to share.

So, happy Trans Day of Visibility, beloveds. In a system that tells us we shouldn't exist—we do.
We thrive.
We love.
We live out loud.

We are soul deep joy.
We are ourselves.
And that is worth celebrating.