Lessons from a Transgender, Brown, Healing Teenager
To Whom It May Confuse
Contorting and simplifying my identity to make it palpable for your eyes is exhausting.
I am not a confusing idea or a touchy subject. The eggshells you walk on around me are all shattered by your ignorance.
Culture does not stop at language.
Oftentimes, even what we can speak about is dictated by genetic divides and upbringing. In some South Asian families, our culture dictates that we focus on what is best for the collective and push down personal problems. It can be harder to speak to our families about mental illness because of these barriers. The undeserved shame that speaking about mental health brings can be exacerbated in settings that silence personal problems and shy away from what’s perceived as “flaws.”
There’s a strong perception among some immigrant communities that formally treating mental illness is a “white people thing.”
That’s because it is! The National Alliance on Mental Illness writes that there are major mental healthcare racial inequities in the United States. Many factors contribute to this issue: in 2018, Black people were 1.5x less likely to be covered by healthcare insurance; in 2015, 86% of mental healthcare providers were white; and a 2001 survey reported that people of color receive healthcare tainted by provider discrimination that results in unmet needs.
If every body is beautiful, then so are brown bodies.
Please make space in your acceptance for people of color to thrive. Genetically, we are sculpted from stones that are unique to the touch and streaked with hues unfamiliar to you. Our faces are shaped differently, our hair sits with a luxurious unbridled attitude, and our features may not fit in your mold. Let us live in our own beauty, passed down from a long heritage just as beautiful as yours.
As a transgender person, body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria, and societal factors can bleed into self hatred.
It can be difficult to separate standards set by social media from the longing to blend in as a trans person. The confusion and shame disproportionately impacting trangender teenagers leads to eating disorder symptoms: in 2022, the Trevor Project found that 9% of transgender youth self-reported a diagnosed eating disorder and 29% of trans teens suspect that they are living undiagnosed. Transgender teenagers need acceptance in this increasingly hostile time. We need permission to be as we are, so that so many don’t have to live desperate to change themselves.
I want to be able to call myself healed.
Please don’t rip those scars open again by banning the person I can be or allowing hatred to fill your heart. I want to be proud of descriptions like “transgender, brown, healed teenager” and know that those labels don’t change how you see me. I want you to believe that the way I look doesn’t make me different and strange, but a beautiful mural of the life I’ve lived. I want you to believe that I’m a normal kid.
The lessons above are taken from ‘What hasn’t changed?’ by Oliver. ‘What hasn’t changed?’ is a short memoir that details Oliver’s mental health struggle and growth. It’s an anecdotal example of how isolation can be damaging for queer youth and how anyone can bloom from their worst experiences.