REFLECTIONS ON COMING OUT AND THE IMPORTANCE OF QUEER & TRANS CARE NETWORKS

This piece was originally written and published October 13, 2019 on www.queerfutures.com by Shoshana Schlauderaff

It’s National Coming Out Day! This is the fourth National Coming Out Day that I have been out publicly online. Every year this celebratory time comes around, it seems to be a little bit harder, a little more cramped, and a lot more frustrating, honestly.

When I first came out I was in a straight-passing dating situation and coming out publicly put a lot of strain on that relationship. My queerness has always threatened cisgendered men, frankly, and at the time I had come out as bisexual, allowing myself to begin to understand the complexities of the multitudes that I contain. Most of my friends were already aware, my family was DEFINITELY aware, and I felt the urge to let everyone know. I was already growing wary of assumptions about my identity while I was in a straight-passing relationship and I wanted to just wave a little flag above my head to say HEY! My queerness is not a phase! I can date whoever I want and still maintain this identity no matter what! It felt freeing, honestly. And that’s because I have always had people in my life that support me no matter what. I didn’t think twice about it. For that, I am lucky that I felt safe enough to come out online and to start my journey as an open member of the LGBTQ+ community and as an open LGBTQ+ advocate. Many people cannot do this. However, this was just the start of me understanding how uncomfortable the world is with this openness, and the tolls that being out would take on my relationships with people I care about.

Journey-ahead four years later and I am just tired. While being out can be exciting and useful, allowing me to actually vouch for myself and other queer and trans folks in spaces, it is also just fucking exhausting. By 2018’s National Coming Out Day we were already in a much different political climate and at this point I had cut off my long hair and stopped shaving. Being out is difficult in itself, and being out under the current political situation in the US is a struggle for me to find a will to continue on most days. I am constantly sad and confused. But I have found many beautiful things alongside the struggle. After a few friendship shifts and growing pains, I have found myself in a beautiful community of queer people of all types. I now know what queer platonic love means and how important it is to staying alive. My queer family, I love you.

This year I have openly come out online as trans and non-binary and I have asked people to use they/them pronouns for me. This year I began doing LGBTQ+ workshops and trans allyship trainings and I am learning what it means to be resilient. I am learning what it means to explain queer and trans theory to someone for two hours only to have them misgender me at the end of the workshop. I am learning that being out as trans means being free to openly label myself and to not have to hide, but also that my mental health will always be a disaster.

This year things are very different. I’m not in a safe queer space in college anymore. I face transphobia every day from my employers and students as I struggle to be out in workplaces that claim they are “open to that sort of thing.” There are days when I really hate myself. When I become transphobic towards myself. But I’m not sad because I am trans. I am constantly on edge and anxious because other people hate me, verbally attack me, and want to undermine all of the hard work I have done on myself. I can’t use dating apps safely, I can’t go home without my family invalidating my trans identity, I can’t escape people constantly trying to tell me that who I understand myself as doesn’t exist. I have found myself countless times at parties or social outings taking opportunities to educate people about what transness is to me, only to have them to say something like “Excuse me for playing devil’s advocate, but how will I know someone is referencing you with they/them pronouns?” “Well, what will your KIDS call you one day??” “I understand the non-binary thing, but different pronouns are just too weird.” And honestly, it is those comments that can hurt me the most. It makes me so angry to share about all the beauty and wonder of what being trans is to me, and then for you to throw it all aside so you can ask your hetero- and cis-normative question.

Don’t you understand that the revolution is breaking down systems and re-classifying ourselves? That it is the reclamation of our bodies and the allowance to have language that differentiates our experiences from a society that chooses to call them “weird” or “un-normal” or “disgusting.” That of course it works against government structures and cis-normative spaces. It always has. They have always been against us, so now we are finding our own spaces to exist and find joy.

Trans resilience is tolerating transphobia in nearly every interaction with cisgendered people. It is questioning how many times I should let someone misgender me before I get the courage to ask them to use my correct pronouns. It is hearing people I considered friends refusing to use my correct pronouns. It is my family placing higher value and importance on my relationships with cisgendered men. It is people refusing to interact with me because they are disgusted by my body hair. It is my bosses ignoring my pronoun pins and my cries for help in the workplace when I am being harassed by co-workers. It is being dismissed by other LGBTQ people for not “looking trans” (whatever that means). It is the silent discomfort some cisgendered people have around me that I can feel without them having to say anything. It is being forced to explain basic trans, nonbinary, and queer concepts to folks that could just as easily find resources online or in books.

Most days, it is hard to just find the will to go through my day. I know these are the struggles I’ll face everyday, and at this point I am very aware of how each interaction will weigh on me. My mental health is worse than it has ever been and I am tired of having my identity constantly invalidated. I am scared to go to therapy in fear of having a therapist that will be transphobic.

And you must be asking, then why not just conform? Why are you making things so difficult for yourself? And honestly, I am asking myself these things some days as well. Yes, it would be easier. Of course I know that solely based on social interactions it would be easier for me to be quiet, to keep this inside. But the truth is that either way is hard, and living my reality means respecting myself for who I am. Something cisgendered and heterosexual people will never understand is how deep and important trans love is. When I am with other trans and non-binary people, they get it. I can’t even explain properly how beautiful and tranquil that feels. Even if we are all a mess, we are together and we understand each other. We are allowed to be ourselves and it is pure joy. I have never felt more myself than when I am around other non-binary and trans people and they understand the insecurities I feel, and they understand what it means to want to just exist, and they know me for my spirit, my entity, my whole being.

When I reflect on Mental Health Awareness Day and National Coming Out Day this week, I think about the importance of queer & trans care networks and creating love for and with each other in an attainable way. I think about real allyship, the people in my life both trans and not that are active advocates and question heteronormative systems along with me. People who let me know that I am not alone, that they want a world for me to fit into as well. That my existence is valid. People who are normalizing asking for pronouns. People who correct others for misgendering me when I am not around. People who are reading books, doing research, following LGBTQ stories. You don’t have to be a part of the community to want to help. You don’t have to be gay to be an advocate. You can learn, and you can help. What I want is a worldwide community that can advocate together, and not force trans people to do the work every time.

You can pay trans people for the everyday exploitation we face, for the lack of support we get, for the poor access to proper care and therapy. You sharing this post helps a little. You venmoing me money to @shoshana-schlauderaff so that I can pay other trans people who need it helps a lot. You advocating for trans people in your workspaces and daily routines saves our lives. Be aware.

image description: two photos of shosh floating in a river, they are wearing a black one-piece swim suit. you can only see their torso, arms and legs. the sun is shining off the water.

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My name is Shoshana (They/Them)! I currently reside in Arizona. I am working as a digital arts & astronomy teacher for Studio 39 Performing and Visual Arts School in Anne Arundel County, Maryland.

I am a freelance interdisciplinary artist that works on projects varying from astrophysics education, interactive installation, meditative virtual reality, trans justice performance, and more!

You can contact me at shoshanahope@gmail.com for inquiries. Resume & CV available upon request.

Some fun facts: I’m an Aquarius, ENFJ, and Enneagram Type 2w3. When I’m not working, I enjoy playing guitar, gardening, hiking, cooking, and swing dancing.