FINDING THE WORDS

I'd always been told I was gay, made fun of for it. I felt comfortable in environments with queer women. But something in me knew that I was transgender. It was something I had always known but didn't have the words for, wouldn't permit myself to embrace. "I was nevera girl. I'll never be a woman. What am I going to do?" I used to say. Have always said.

- ELLIOT PAGE

The first time I acknowledged I was trans, in the properly conscious sense, beyond speculation, was around my 30th birthday. Almost four years before I came out publicly.

"Do you think I'm trans?" I'd asked a close friend. They answered hesitantly, knowing no one can come to that conclusion for someone else, but they looked at me with a quiet recognition and said, "I could see that ..." It was a light shining through from under the door.

Then there was the time when I wasn't the one to bring it up. I was having a small party. People jumped in the pool and huddled together on outdoor furniture. My friend Star and I sat off alone, catching up on the patio. I met Star when we were making the first season of Gaycationshe worked at a San Francisco clinic run by trans women that offered health care and support for those in the LGBTQ+ community who needed it.

Star and I connected, in that way where the future flashes, an auspicious beginning. We stayed in touch and became good friends. She has experienced far more obstacles and barriers than I have, yet she holds space for me, supports me, sees me. She's a singer, and I remember being mesmerized by her voice when I first listened to her album, Star. The lyrics of her song "Heartbreaker" played on repeat in my mind for weeks after:

I run away from feeling too good

I'm scared as hell you'd leave me if you knew

I run away from feeling too good

I'm scared as hell you'd leave me if you knew