What I couldn't imagine then

Lee talks about his experience from childhood to today, as he now lives a life he once never knew was possible.

Lee

I’m a (relatively) happy thirty-something queer trans man. I have a master’s degree, have worked up to almost a £45k salary, and am successful in consultancy, facilitation - and basically, talking to people.

Now, to paraphrase James Baldwin, I do not dream of labour and never have. But if you’d asked teenage me what their future would be, they definitely wouldn’t have pictured anything close to this. It didn’t seem possible. Why? I was an extraordinarily anxious child, and this culminated when I started high school.

Hindsight is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? At school, I was diagnosed with ‘school phobia’; I was home-schooled for a while, prescribed anti-anxiety medication, and saw a local child psychologist. I can’t deny that some (maybe all) of these things helped me cope. But ultimately, my school wasn’t set up to support who I really was: a young trans man who didn’t know it yet.

I didn't even know transness existed, so how could I imagine it for myself?

It was also around that time I came out for the first time. As I understood myself then, I was a girl who liked girls. Beyond a few emo teens experimenting, I was, to my knowledge, the only girl who liked other girls. (Interestingly, I never called myself a lesbian and rarely even said I was gay.) With no education about sexuality at school - and certainly nothing about gender beyond rigid binary roles - I was working within the limits of what I knew. The L Word filled in some gaps (for better or worse), but the truth is I didn’t even know transness existed, so how could I imagine it for myself?

And to think, Section 28 had been repealed! This UK law banned the “promotion” of homosexuality by local authorities, including schools. Though it ended in England and Wales in 2003, its chilling effect lingered. Teachers were afraid to talk openly about LGBTQ+ lives. There were no queer role models in the curriculum, no safe spaces to ask questions, no language for who I was. I didn’t know trans was a thing - so I couldn’t be it.

The discomfort I'd always carried wasn't random; it had a name, and it had answers.

Things changed at university. I met other queer people. I had room to breathe, question, choose. I wasn’t “the weird one” - I was just one of many figuring things out. I discovered that the discomfort I’d always carried wasn’t random; it had a name, and it had answers. I began transitioning in my mid twenties and slowly started becoming myself.

Though trans rights today are far from perfect, I’d still rather be happy and trans than unhappy and not.

That anxious, unsure teen wouldn’t have believed this life was possible. But it is. And it can be for you, too.

Levelling Up: Why LGBTQ+ Representation in Video Games Matters

From the age of four, I remember waking up early on the weekends and sneaking downstairs with my dad to play on his Playstation 2. Tomb Raider, Ratchet & Clank and Ape Escape were some of the many video games that kick started my obsession with this form of media.  

Unlike movies or books, where audiences passively consume a narrative, video games offer agency. Not just as a form of storytelling, but as an immersive experience that allows players to become the characters they see on screen. When an LGBTQ+ character is central to this experience, it doesn’t just send a message, it becomes personal.  

There are many ways I have experienced representation while playing. Most notably, being immersed in a narrative with authentic queer characters or having the freedom to explore yourself in the characters you are able to create. 

Games like The Last of Us Part II and, more recently, the extremely popular Baldur’s Gate 3 don’t simply feature queer characters, they let players live through their stories. That emotional connection can foster empathy and understanding in ways other media can't quite replicate. 

"Video games are proving their power to shape not just what we see, but how we see ourselves."

One standout example is the relationship between Ellie and Dina in The Last of Us Part II. Their connection unfolds naturally; marked by quiet moments, shared jokes, and visible vulnerability. It feels organic, never forced, and deeply human. When I played the game back in 2020, I had recently come out to my family and being immersed in their story moved me in a way no other game had. Seeing them happy and unapologetic (particularly Dina’s character), even in a world where homophobia still exists, was powerful. We're often told to hide who we are, so having that kind of representation mattered. I think seeing a character like Dina earlier might’ve helped me feel more confident in myself. 

"Whether we realise it or not, we project parts of ourselves into our characters"

Representation doesn’t always need to follow a fixed storyline. Baldur’s Gate 3 by Larian Studios has been praised not just for its deep storytelling and gameplay, but also for its unapologetic LGBTQ+ representation. Set in the fantasy world of Faerûn, the game gives players rare freedom to explore fluid romantic and gender identities without judgment. Queer relationships aren’t sidelined, they’re a natural part of the world, woven into every path you take. 

When I first started the game, I was almost overwhelmed by the freedom of choice. Even the character creation felt powerful, it let me build a version of “Tav” that felt completely my own. As the story unfolded, I grew attached not just to companions like Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Astarion, but to my Tav too. Whether we realise it or not, we project parts of ourselves into our characters and that’s something Larian Studios captured beautifully. 

What really makes Baldur’s Gate 3 stand out is how organic it’s LGBTQ+ storytelling feels. Relationships develop through real conversations and choices, without labels or restrictions. It invites players to create and explore identities in a way that feels honest and deeply personal. 

The industry still has progress to make, but as more developers embrace inclusive storytelling, video games are proving their power to shape not just what we see, but how we see ourselves. For me, gaming has been a gateway to self-discovery, connection, and belonging. Because in this medium, representation isn’t just about being seen, it’s about being played. 

Author: Alexandra Camp

Based in London, Alexandra is a passionate advocate for storytelling and creativity, drawing inspiration from all corners of pop culture. Her interests centre around immersive experiences, particularly within the worlds of video games and tabletop role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons. She finds deep creative influence in narrative-driven titles such as Baldur’s Gate 3, The Last of Us, and Ghost of Tsushima. These experiences fuel her curiosity and shape her perspective as a designer and storyteller in the digital space.

They tried to silence us. But we're still here.

This blog post is a collaboration with It Gets Better USA - you can see their original post here.

They were discussing trans people. They were making life-altering decisions about trans people. And yet somehow, they decided trans people didn’t need to be part of the conversation.

That’s what just happened in the UK. On April 15, the UK Supreme Court ruled that under the 2010 Equality Act, the word “woman” refers strictly to biological women—excluding trans women, even those with a Gender Recognition Certificate (GRC), from certain legal protections. In short: a trans woman with a GRC is not automatically considered a “woman” under the law.

And yet not one trans voice was invited to speak in court. Not one trans-led organization was allowed to offer input. Even two trans legal experts—one a former High Court judge—were turned away without explanation.

A case about trans people. And no trans people in the room.

If you’re trans or nonbinary—especially if you’re feeling the weight of this moment—you deserve to hear this clearly: you are not invisible. You are not a debate. You are real. You are powerful. And you are not alone.

What This Means—And What It Doesn’t

Let’s be clear: this ruling hurts. It’s exhausting to see powerful institutions debate your existence while refusing to hear your voice. It’s infuriating. And yes, it’s frightening.

But let’s also be clear about what this ruling does not do.

It doesn’t erase who you are.

It doesn’t define your identity.

It doesn’t determine your worth.

No court, no government, no law can decide your gender or your humanity. Only you can do that.

You are still you. You are still real. You are still loved, worthy, and full of possibility.

Taking Care of Yourself in Heavy Moments

It’s okay to step away from the headlines for a while. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. You don’t have to push through or pretend everything is fine.

Here are a few ways to take care of yourself right now:

• Turn off the news for a bit. Your peace matters.

• Reach out to someone who makes you feel safe.

• Find joy wherever you can—tiny victories, gender euphoria, that one meme that always makes you laugh.

• Tap into communities that affirm you. You are never as alone as you think.

Resources worth bookmarking:

• It Gets Better UK

• Switchboard LGBT+ Helpline

• MindOut – LGBTQ+ Mental Health

• Gendered Intelligence

To Every Trans and Nonbinary Young Person Reading This

This ruling isn’t the end of the story. It’s not even the whole story.

We’ve seen it—again and again. Change happens not because someone in power says it can, but because people like you refuse to give up. In every piece of art. In every shared story. In every community created in the face of exclusion.

It gets better because of you.

“To all trans and nonbinary youth, know this: your existence is not up for debate. You are not defined by the courts, the headlines, or the hurtful words of others. You define yourself, and you are more powerful than you may realise. Every step you take, every moment of joy, and every expression of your truth is a testament to your strength and resilience. We see you, we stand with you, and we will never stop fighting for a world where you are seen, heard, and celebrated.” – Dr Alex Rhys, CEO of It Gets Better UK

Stay Connected

For more stories of strength and solidarity, follow @ItGetsBetterUK. And remember: no matter what anyone else says.

We’re still here. And we’re not going anywhere.