Dear reader,

My name is Cal, I am trans/nonbinary, and this is a piece of my story.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always known that I was different from my peers. But for the longest time, I couldn’t quite articulate what set me apart. I didn’t have the words to describe myself, to explain who I was, or why I felt so disconnected from the gender roles and expectations placed upon me.

From a young age, I had a feeling that I liked boys. But even more than that, I understood that I didn’t fit the mold of what was expected from a “boy” in small town Iowa. I preferred dolls over trucks, picked feminine costumes for Halloween, and was SENSITIVE in a world where being sensitive was something to be ashamed of. Those things made me stand out, and not in a good way.

I was bullied relentlessly all throughout grade school. It started as me being the poor kid at a private school, but it quickly escalated when people started to assume I was gay. I wasn’t out yet, but the perception alone was enough to make my life a living hell. I was beaten up in middle school, locked in lockers, spit on, thrown down flights of stairs, and jumped in gym class—just for being different. And in a way, I was. I wasn’t like the other boys in my class. I treated women with kindness, with empathy, and I appreciated them for who they were—something that the men around me found threatening.

It wasn’t just that I was the target of bullying because of my presumed sexuality—it was that I could never seem to fit into the traditional boxes society had assigned me. I spent years suppressing who I was, because in my mind, being myself meant opening myself up to even more pain.

But things changed when I went to college. I took a class with a professor who was non-binary, and I’ll never forget the moment they introduced themselves to the class. They said, “Hi, I’m Professor Cram. I’m non-binary, and I use they/them pronouns.” As they spoke, something shifted inside me. For the first time in my life, I had the words to describe myself. I wasn’t just some confused kid who didn’t fit in—I was transgender.

I remember crying in that moment. And after class, I had to sit in the hallway to collect myself. Professor Cram asked if something was wrong, and I remember telling them, “No, actually, you just gave me the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. The words to describe myself. I just realized that I’m transgender, and it feels like I finally understand who I am after years of wandering.”

For years, I had been battling depression and anxiety, but a lot of that struggle stemmed from the fact that I couldn’t understand or express who I was. Once I had that understanding, once I could put a name to it, a huge weight was lifted. The past seven years have been about healing, growing into my skin, and learning to love myself.

I grew my hair out. I started wearing what felt right for me, doing my makeup when I wanted to. And slowly, I began to resemble the person I’d been hiding for so long. The REAL me, the person I had first known as a six-year-old, but had buried under fear, shame, and confusion.

Transgender Awareness Month is deeply important to me because I lived a life of self-hatred and shame for so long, and I refuse to go back to that. I refuse to let society’s narrow definitions of gender make me hate myself again. I refuse to be the scared kid who was bullied, hurt, and unsafe. I created safety for myself by being unapologetically me, and every year, during this month, I stand taller and prouder. Because I HAVE to. Because I WANT to.

Transgender Awareness Month isn’t just about visibility, it’s about self-love. It’s about showing the world who we are without shame, without apology. It’s about making space for people like me, and for those who might not have the words yet to describe who they are. There’s a quiet power in that—an unspoken invitation to others who might be struggling to come to terms with their identity, to see that they aren’t alone.

For people like me, this month is about celebration. It's about celebrating the joy that comes from finally being able to be yourself. For people who are questioning, it’s about offering resources and guidance so they can find their path, just like I found mine. It’s about creating a world where people of all genders and sexualities can thrive, without fear of rejection or violence.

When I think about what transgender awareness means, I think about all the kids, teens, and adults out there who may feel like I did—lost, misunderstood, and afraid. I think about the ones who don’t yet know that they can be whoever they want to be, that their experienced gender is valid, and that they have a right to express it however they see fit. I think about how transformative it would have been to have had more visibility and support growing up—more role models, more representation, more people showing me that being trans isn’t a curse, but a gift.

There’s been so much misinformation about what it means to be transgender. I’ve heard all the tired accusations about “grooming” and “indoctrination,” but the truth is, being trans isn’t about any agenda other than simply BEING—being free, being yourself, and being proud of that person. There’s no rush, no coercion, no forced medical decisions. There’s just the journey of self-discovery and the eventual, life-changing acceptance of who you are.

So, as we observe Transgender Awareness Month, I urge you to remember that this is about love. It’s about accepting one another as we are, and about celebrating the beauty in our differences. It’s about fostering a world where every trans person can walk through life with pride, knowing that they are seen, valued, and loved.

For me, this month is a reminder that I am not the person I once was—the scared, lost kid. I’m not that person anymore. I am the fully formed Cal. I am proudly, unapologetically, and joyfully trans/non-binary. And if you’re reading this, maybe you’re on your own journey, too. If you are, know this: you are loved, you are worthy, and you are exactly who you were meant to be in this moment. Take your time, show yourself grace, and look in that mirror EVERY. SINGLE. MORNING. to tell yourself that you LOVE yourself.

So let’s all take a moment to reflect on the beauty of being who we are, and to show up for one another with warmth, celebration, and unbreakable support.

‍Trans joy is real, and it’s worth celebrating every single day. Full stop.