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And to think, Section 28 had been repealed!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.