I used to think being trans meant I had something to prove—that I needed to affirm an identity loud enough for it to stick. Somewhere between the test-maxxers, the pink-and-blue flags, and the identity politics, I lost myself in the performance of visibility.
But transition wasn’t a costume change. It was construction project. It fixed what was broken. It gave me back my health, my focus, my career, my peace. And in doing so, it reminded me that my identity doesn’t need to be argued for—it just needs to be lived well.
That’s what this post is about.
Because for a lot of people, transition becomes the peak of the story. A final line in the narrative. But the truth is, it isn’t the end of anything—it’s a foundation. The beginning of everything else. And once you’ve laid it? You still have to decide what you’re going to build.
I used to think being transgender was the end of something. A destination. A final chapter. But the truth is, transition wasn’t a period at the end of a sentence—it was a doorway. And stepping through it? That was just the beginning.
What I’ve noticed—and maybe you have too—is that there’s a strange kind of pause that happens when you’ve “figured out” your identity. Like the whole world has been turned upside down, re-labeled, re-mapped, and now that the internal compass reads true north again… you just stop walking. You set up camp in "transgender" and forget that you ever planned to go further.
But the thing is—this can’t be the destination.
If you’re reading this and you’re transgender, I’ve got questions for you:
Because listen—I’m not just transgender. That’s not even the most interesting thing about me. I’ve always been a carpenter. A musician. A thinker. A storyteller. Did you know I know how to make fireworks? See, why haven't I ever said anything about that? Transition was a necessary piece of my puzzle, sure, but it wasn’t the full picture. It was just the part that let the rest of me breathe again.
And now that I’m breathing? I’m building.
Transition Is Not a Brand
Here’s where I think some of us get stuck: we spent so long trying to be seen, we forgot to be everything else we are. Somewhere in the fight for visibility, we started mistaking it for a goal. I feel like I have seen a mindset at times of "I refuse to be happy until I feel seen" and my question is.. why wait for that? Is that really.. good for you?
Visibility is just exposure. What people see is only what you show.
If I want to be seen as more than a transgender person, then it’s on me to represent everything else I am. People will see I’m transgender—that’s fine. But what they remember will come from how I spend my time, what I build, how I treat people, and what I add to the world.
Ask Yourself This:
What do I really offer to people who are not like me?
We expect other people to answer that question with their actions. But we’re not exempt from answering it ourselves.
This isn’t about hiding who we are. It’s about expanding it. It’s about not settling for one dimension of your identity when you were born to be a whole person.
So if you're transgender like me, ask yourself again: now that you’ve transitioned…
Then what happened?
Because you still get to write that part. And I hope you do.
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