This is the full text of a thing I posted on Facebook. I’m still working out what kind of content belongs on this site, and what I can post safely, but I’m proud of myself for having written this and posted it for over 120 people.
So here’s the TLDR.
I’m trans. I’ve known my entire life but I’ve been certain that I needed to transition for years. I went through a lot of therapy and professional guidance to get to this point. I’m not ready to be 100% out yet, but I will be going by Evey and using She/Her pronouns. If you’re not in a position to use that name or pronoun set for me, I hope you’ll at least use they/them.
[NOTE FROM EVEY: When this content was written I wasn’t out for everyone, to everyone, and some people needed to they/them me for my safety. I use she/her exclusively now.]
I started hormone replacement therapy a little over 100 days ago. If you want to talk to me about this at all, I’m an open person and I’m happy to discuss on messenger or anything like that.
Point of No Return
Ok, now that the TLDR is out of the way. I hope you can forgive what’s about to be a SUPER self-indulgent post but it’s Pride month and, honestly, I’ve been mulling if I could let this month pass unmarked for yet another year. This year I think I’m finally in a place that I can start having this conversation with you all (the ones who can read this). I’m taking a big risk here and I know it. They say if more than two people know something it isn’t a secret anymore. Statistically, at least some of you are really not going to be happy with me. I tried to curate this list of folks carefully, but nobody’s perfect.
I started transitioning medically on February 22, 2019. It wasn’t really a choice at that point. I had been dragging my feet on it for years, waiting for the Perfect Time™.
When Chester Bennington, who I admired and who helped me through a very rough childhood, killed himself in 2017, it hit me really hard. I considered Chester an example that you could beat the traumas and pain you’d gone through and I used his example to keep me alive. He could do it, so could I. When he lost that fight, it made me realize I could lose that fight too.
And I’d been fighting that fight for a very, very long time. I remember telling my therapist years ago that every single day I woke up and wondered if that was the day I was going to kill myself. And it was true. I wasn’t actively suicidal, per se, it just seemed like fate. Every day since I was in my early teens the answer was “no.” It’s not that bad. Not yet. When Chester died, I realized that one day the answer would probably be “yes. Today’s the day.”
And at first knowing that my life was in the hands of the seemingly random chance that my brain would decide to kill me gave me energy and motivation to transition. If I were going to kill myself, I should at least die as me. I owe me that much. Chester killed himself in 2017 and it took me until 2019 to get this far. I was, and still am, absolutely terrified and vulnerable.
But, I don’t ask myself that question every morning any more. Every day I’m excited to see what’s new and different with this body. Every day is a discovery for me now instead of a potential death sentence. Even if you disagree with my decision, I hope you can understand that I’ve never been so happy and that this isn’t just good for me — it’s essential to me being alive.
Some of you have known me through some really shitty periods in my mental health and almost shittier periods when I seemed mentally healthy and just acted like an asshole. Nothing I’m doing or saying here excuses anything I did or said to you, nor the theatrics I put on trying to be a “man.” I hope y’all can forgive the nonsense I pulled and see that I’m working hard to be a genuine, healthy, and complete person.
I know lots of folks say when they “knew” they were trans but for me it was an anger I carried around my entire childhood. I didn’t have the words to be trans, but I knew I was absolutely bitter that I was a boy. My grandma, who knows and has been amazingly supportive, once pulled me aside when I was little and asked why I had such a chip on my shoulder. I really wish I’d had the words to have told her then.
I didn’t really get the language for this until I was in college and by then I had resigned myself to enduring life as a guy and hoping that I’d be reborn properly next time around. The only trans women I knew of were all porn actresses, and to be honest they didn’t represent me. It’s not a criticism of them, I just didn’t see my trans-ness through the lens of sexuality that way.
I really owe Laverne Cox a huge hug if I can ever meet her, because she was the first trans person I’d ever seen represented who wasn’t hyper sexualized by her trans-ness. She was just a beautiful, powerful trans woman who helped me get the language I needed to move forward.
It took months and years of therapy to really wrap my head around my identity and to start seeing my life through the right sets of lenses to make healthy decisions.
I am so, so, so grateful for the group of friends I’ve managed to gather in my life. Y’all have taken scared, suicidal me and helped create an environment where I know I’m safe, loved, and welcomed to be the person I need to be. I really hope I can expand that environment today with all the folks on this list and that I can keep expanding it until I never have to use my dead name again. If you all have any questions, or thoughts, or whatever you can comment here or message me.
I’m going to be journaling and chronicling the changes and the experiences I have through my website https://eveywinters.com. (there’s very little there right now) I hope, in time, that my experience can be useful for other folks to get this language and understand that they can move forward and be a genuine and true expression of themselves.
Happy Pride everyone! Thank you for reading this, and I hope to talk to y’all soon <3.
– Evey Winters