Essay: Being Trans Is NOT An Identity Crisis: It Is Who We Are... And Who We Have Always Been

Being Trans Is NOT An Identity Crisis

It Is Who We Are…And Who We Have Always Been

I am a 48 yr. old Transgender woman. I am also quite active in the Trans community, and I think I have a fairly good handle on its pulse and trends. When I say trends, I do not mean that being Trans is a trend, as many conservative voices are saying. The past decade has seen a dramatic rise in Trans visibility, both in mainstream culture and online. Over that same period, few marginalized communities have experienced such dramatic whiplash of fortunes as has the Transgender community. Increased visibility created an environment where many people who had lived in fear and hiding for much of their lives began to find the courage and acceptance to openly embrace who they are- who they have always been.

Increased visibility and acceptance have also helped to somewhat ‘normalize’ Trans people in society, bringing about people’s increased exposure to, or knowledge and understanding of, lived experiences not their own. This ‘normalization’ has not only been embraced by those who had previously lived closeted, but has seamlessly, and enthusiastically been integrated into the lives and culture of our youth- whose non-judgemental and progressive views and beliefs should be examples for us all.

However, that progress also came with a conservative backlash and campaigns to discredit our basic human rights. Advocacy groups are calling 2021 a record-breaking year for Anti-Transgender legislation. Thirty-three states have introduced more than 100 bills that aim to curb the rights of transgender people across the country. The internet, which has become our modern-day public square, and trans visibility at large, has devolved into a double-edged sword for the trans community. Attacks aimed at both the community and individuals are still commonplace, and when confronted or censored for this kind of vitriol or hate speech, these same people who disregard our basic human rights, claim their free speech rights are being violated.

All of that being said, one of the arguments I see time and again, is that coming out Trans is an identity crisis. Or in the case of our youth, a fad or a trend. Speaking on behalf of myself, nothing could be further from the truth. Furthermore, as an activist and advocate for Trans Rights, and someone who stays abreast of all the current news and developments in our community, I regularly see some mainstream media is now pushing a ‘detransition’ narrative, which is fueling misconceptions and negative rhetoric. This narrative makes “transition regret” seem much more common than it is. Statistics are scarce, but we find that only 8% of Transwomen and 4% of Transmen who have transitioned reported being unhappy with their decision and detransitioned.

What they don't highlight is the fact that 92-96% of Transgender people ARE happier after transitioning, and there are typically marked improvements in self-image, self-respect, self-worth, and overall mental health. What this means is that transitioning, and access to gender-affirming healthcare is not only life-improving but life-saving. One of the scariest and most concerning statistics attributed to the Transgender population is the 42% rate of suicide. No, that is not a typo. Amongst the Cis population, the suicide rate hovers in between 1-2%. Doctors and professionals agree that transitioning is a powerful and effective tool in combatting this suicide epidemic. There are usually vast improvements for those struggling with dysphoria, with people often reporting decreased intensity, and an increased ability to manage their symptoms. An overwhelming number report their happiness, self-worth, and well-being was similar to, or better than, same-age adults from the general population after transitioning.

So then, what exactly is an identity crisis?

An identity crisis is a developmental event that involves a person questioning their sense of self or place in the world.

Identity involves the experiences, relationships, beliefs, values, and memories that make up a person's subjective sense of self. This helps create a continuous self-image that remains relatively constant even as new aspects of the self are developed or strengthened over time.

A person going through an identity crisis may find themselves preoccupied with certain questions:

• What am I passionate about?

• What are my spiritual beliefs?

• What are my values?

• What is my role in society or purpose in life?

• Who am I?

It is this last question where many Transgender people struggle, as that question becomes more and more pressing and pertinent to our peace of mind and happiness. Ultimately, it is when we begin to answer that question honestly, where friction may arise- especially with those close to us. It is here where many outside observers, including our friends, family, or employers, might question our validity. Once again, I am speaking from my own perspective, but this is a scenario many Trans people will recognize or have direct experience with. I DID indeed have an identity crisis… but not in the way they are traditionally thought of.

I grew up in a male-dominated family. Both sides of our family were almost all boys, and our family dynamic was heavily influenced by our own patriarchy. The men dominated. Within our immediate family, which was very dysfunctional (another story), I was the firstborn of the children, and there was a great deal of focus and expectation on ‘the oldest boy’ carrying the mantle. My father was an academic who spent more time in the archives than with us, and my mother was a nurse. We were a single-income family of four and never had any money while growing up. I was a physically big kid, which in a tightly budgeted family meant that I ended up wearing a lot of my mom’s hand-me-down clothes for the first few years of my public-school career. I honestly didn’t mind wearing my mom’s stuff at all…I LIKED wearing girl's clothes. Sadly, this also led to my first experiences with being picked on and treated differently because of who I was. Kids can be cruel…but so can adults- even those closest to us.

My immediate influences were a grandfather who was the head of our family patriarchy, and he was incredibly old-fashioned, and not very open-minded (and a bigot, if truth be told)… and much the same can be said of most of the older generation within our family. I also had a father who was almost never there, save when I was playing sports (the ONLY place I felt comfortable or excelled doing ‘boy stuff’). It was the only time my father paid any attention to me or showed his approval. Even as a child, I knew what I liked, what clothing I preferred, and what toys I gravitated towards. I felt like I had been born in the wrong body. I KNEW that I was a girl… even though no one else cared to see it.

My other major childhood influence was, of course, my mother. When you are a kid, and you are secretly playing with your mom’s makeup, smushed lipstick is hard to cover up. A mother knows. My mom did. One of my fondest and dearest memories of her was the day she pulled me aside and asked me if I was trying on her makeup. I thought I was in so much trouble… I had more than one wooden spoon broken across my ass as a kid. I was caught and knew from experience that I was better off being truthful at that point. That was the day I told her the truth of things.

I was not her little boy…I was her little girl. To this day I have never forgotten the words she said to me…” Of course, you are, and my daughter is a star”. This was not long before my parent's marriage ended, and it was a difficult period in my life. Not just because our home life was turned upside-down, and because I would shortly enter puberty, but because not long after my parents split up my mother, who was a Medi-vac emergency medical flight nurse, was killed on the job in a plane crash. That was the day something broke inside me. It was also the day that I lost the only person I had who knew the truth of things, and supported who and what I was. It was also the day I lost the only unconditional love I have ever known, and the first in a long line of traumas that I’ve lived through.

My teenage years were a mess. I moved with my father and his new wife to Charlottetown, PEI, where progressive social ideas were unheard of. My father was more focused on his new life than on the 2 kids who had tragically just lost their mother, and this was when we should have been getting professional help or counselling. In addition to being confused, lost, and feeling broken, I began feeling ashamed about questioning my gender and wanting to be who I really was; ashamed at feeling like I was trapped in the wrong body, and at desperately wanting to be a girl. All my influences, my environment, and the kinds of messaging that existed at that point in time, were that Trans people were not normal. What was reinforced to me, almost everywhere I turned, was that Trans people were freaks, or perverts, or had mental problems. As if that wasn’t enough for one teenager to cope with, I was also quickly realizing that I wasn’t as interested in playing sports anymore, as I was in checking out the other boys in the locker room. My sexuality was just developing, but I realized right from the start that I wasn’t straight. One of my first sexual experiences and crushes was with the town coroner’s son, who I grew up with (damn, he was so cute).

Why am I sharing my screwed-up childhood and putting it out there for all to see or read? I mean, after all, who didn’t have a rough childhood? My reason for doing so is to provide the context for my early adult life. Our childhood years are our formative years. When those years are filled with instability and trauma- especially when those things are never properly or healthily resolved, they affect how we develop, and who we become. Instead of embracing the woman I knew I was inside, I learned to associate it with shame and guilt. Instead of being open about my sexuality and gender identity, I buried it, hid who I was, and spent the next almost 20 years living as a male and hating myself. I lived a lie- and carried on what amounted to a dual life.

Outwardly, day-to-day, I lived male…privately, behind closed doors, I lived as a woman. My entire life consisted of lies…lying to myself and lying to everyone around me. I was not just unhappy, I was angry. Angry at myself…and I took that anger out on everyone around me. That is a separate story, and one I intend to tell, but that’s best left for another time. The only way to safely carry on the charade that was my life and safely hide who I was, without having everyone around me find out my secrets, was to keep everyone at arm’s length. I couldn’t trust anyone, so I never developed a support network for myself… never really even had any friends. I got involved with women in relationships, almost because that was expected of all men. But I was the worst boyfriend EVER. I was always emotionally unavailable, and frankly, I spent more time sneaking around behind my girlfriend’s backs and sleeping with men. It got more and more difficult to live the lie, and the impact on my mental health was profound.

I got involved with drugs, and over time became a heroin addict. I was numbing myself, so I didn’t have to face the traumas or the emotions and lies I was suppressing. Drugs only compounded the problems, and eventually, I got to a place of complete self-loathing and recklessness. I also got involved in sex work, often having risky sex with men, and that led to being both sexually assaulted and raped. Looking back, I can see that I had reached a point in my life where I truly did not care if I lived or died…indeed, I attempted suicide a couple of times. And through it all, I always had my lockbox of makeup, dresses, and heels. I rarely, if ever left the house without having at least one piece of female clothing on underneath my outerwear, just to feel somewhat like myself. My entire adult life I continued to dress.

What changed? How did I get to where I am today? I have cleaned up, I sought help, I started HRT 3 yrs. ago, and today I live openly as a proud Transgender woman… but I am also so much more than that. I am an activist, an advocate, a writer, a poetess, an artist, a dreamer, a romantic, an insatiable lover, and more. Don’t get me wrong, that journey has been FAR from easy… as those who know me well, or readers of this blog understand. I have finally become the woman I was always meant to be, and I have never been so happy.

However. When I finally came out, after so many wasted years of hiding, not everyone reacted positively. Not everyone supported me, and that fact played out in terms of my business, my housing situation, even those I considered friends and family. Some of those that thought they knew me well were shocked to find out…and really, that is the crux of the matter when I say that being Trans is NOT an identity crisis. Just because you were not aware of the truth, does not make it any less true. Nor does it make me any less valid.

I have ALWAYS felt this way. I have ALWAYS been this way. It is not a fad, or trendy. Being who you are, in a world that tells you to be something else, takes real courage. It takes real strength. And it is FAR from the easy choice to make. Living openly as a Transwoman, especially as is with my own situation- someone who is visibly Trans (my bone structure gives me away), I am subjected to a lot. I actually wrote a poem called ‘Disgust Or Lust’, because they basically represent the ways I often get treated. In addition to it costing me my income, my home, some friends, and family, I’m also misgendered regularly, I’ve been laughed at, insulted, spit on, catcalled, objectified, sexually assaulted, raped, and physically assaulted. The injuries from that attack led to surgery on my spine, nerve damage in my legs, a year in hospital, and I will have mobility issues for the rest of my life.

Before coming out, life was easy…but I hated myself. Since embracing who I am, I can finally say that I genuinely love myself, but life has become a lot more difficult. That change was instrumental in my personal growth, and because of that, I have finally developed self-worth and self-respect… I love the woman I’ve become. It is for those reasons that I’m able to openly share my story, without fear of being judged, questioned, or ridiculed. That doesn’t mean I do not face those things… I just no longer fear them. Through it all, I can honestly say that I wouldn’t have it any other way. My story is like many stories you might find in the Trans community, but thankfully, that is changing too. Being Trans is NOT an identity crisis. It is who we are…and who we have always been. Be who you are, my lovelies…BE EXACTLY WHO. YOU. ARE.

Mikayla Cadger