My Existence Is Not Up For Debate
I hid so much of myself from others, and I negotiated shame daily. But what was never up for debate was my truth.
Have you ever been offered a gift that was so beautiful, and so profound, that you were afraid to accept it? I experienced this recently when a mentor shared a story with me. It was a story about me, but one that had become strategically, secretly, and traumatically erased from my memory.
As I welcomed their share, I felt the security of my words snatched away from me. I couldn’t comprehend how to reply, but I felt gratitude, relief, and love. In the silence, I finally felt heard.
It was 2013 when I bought a pair of ankle boots from Payless and proceeded to wear them every day — to work, to classes, and all around Seattle. Some of you may be thinking that you’ve heard this story before, but I assure you, you have not, because I have not shared this with you.
The first thought I had after deciding to wear heels was not is this allowed? I was not consumed with quests for permission. I did not care. I did not care if somebody was uncomfortable with what I was wearing; I accessed a world that was welcoming me on a visceral level. I did not care about all the violence, oppression, and ridicule I could face. Nothing was going to stop me from existing.
What’s the worst that could happen? Scenarios, stories and what ifs were never intimidating enough; in fact, it all became motivation. I read stories of trans folks being assaulted and I bought a dress. I saw institutions silently pushing away non binary folks, I bought another. I heard transphobic comments, I got more heels from Goodwill.
Each day I grew stronger and bolder as I wore heels with pride. I showed up in this way among students, in meetings with high-level administrators, in classes taught by tenured professors, and all around a campus that was sprinkled with the crosses of Jesuit Catholic faith. Transphobia and homophobia certainly existed in all those spaces, and choosing not to conform to the status quo surely led me to many closed doors, but I did not care. I saw clearly, with perfect 20/20 vision, directly into the many doors that were opening.
“By the time people questioned my existence, I was prepared. I had already already asked their questions of myself, ten times over.”
I bravely wore a little black dress to an end-of-the-year celebration on campus. The way my legs looked still makes me smile. Upon arriving, a senior administrator pointed down at the scars on my legs, suggesting that the next phase of my femininity is to cover those blemishes up. I quipped, “Nah, that’s kinda the point.” By the time people questioned my existence, I was prepared. I had already already asked their questions of myself, ten times over. I was resolute in my purpose, calling, and courage.
When I presented my graduate research at national conferences, I did not hide my gender non-conformity as I interacted with hundreds of people. I took pride in myself, and people noticed. I wanted them to notice, even while knowing that many of them were the holder of jobs.
When I did attend a national job placement exchange, I wore heels to upwards of 30 in-person interviews, knowing very well that people would question my reasoning and my existence. I was the talk of the town during cocktail hour, and I lived for it. I listened intently to each tale as it came back to me through the grapevine, and reveled in getting to experience the ripple of my existence.
When I wore heels, I felt confident. I stood taller, back straighter, and moved through space as a harmonious wrecking ball. In all the thousands of students who graduated alongside me, and all the loved ones who watched from the stands, I may have been the only “man” to wear heels at Seattle University’s Graduation ceremony in 2014. I proudly walked across the stage of a packed Key Arena, and accepted my graduate degree. I felt elevated, not just from the Guess stilettos under my feet, but from the knowing that stood on the shoulders of all the trans and nonbinary folks who came before me. In many ways, I knew that claiming space on that stage was about way more than just me.
Support was all around me, offering gentle suggestions of caution, and heartfelt unsolicited advice. The rumor mill smells of employment discrimination, maybe you should play it safe this time? “Nah, it’s not worth it.” I was bold, brave and unwavering. I pushed back stronger, demanding that I be hired in all my non-conforming femme glory, and eventually, that happened.
There were still people who called me ‘disgusting,’ but they were wasting their breath. They were no match for the divinity of my drive, courage, and soul. Go ahead, gawk at my existence. I do not care. Hurt people, hurt people, and I wish you healing.
I knew my purpose exactly. I was not confused. I was in love with myself, proud of myself, and existing without permission.
Now, in all these times, I was not fearless. Hell, there were many times I was flat out petrified. I still hid so much of myself from others, and I negotiated shame for belonging daily. But, what was never up for debate was my truth. My value, worthiness, and humanity weren’t debatable. My existence was not up for debate. My existence IS not up for debate.
I am deeply grateful and in awe of this gift I received today. Accepting it fills me with so much love. How transformative it is to be shook from a trance of erasure, and reunited with a long lost love of self. Thank you friend, for loving me.
