There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
I’ve been given so much in my short life: a supportive family and a grand group of friends, the gift of expressing myself in words and access to a great education, and most importantly growing up trans.
There has been no greater gift than that.
Growing up trans is a struggle. I constantly wished that my body matched the vision I had of myself. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t like other girls, and those differences became the daunting obstacle of my first 18 years.
The journey of my gender struggle is being shared in a profile in the June 2011 issue of Marie Claire magazine, written by Kierna Mayo and photographed by Perry Hagopian. I find it fitting that I told my story of transition and self-revelation in a magazine with the motto, “More Than a Pretty Face.”
Ten years ago, I was a senior in Honolulu, Hawaii, where I graduated near the top of class with an academic scholarship to the University of Hawaii. Yet I still cried myself to sleep because I felt my body didn’t match who I felt I was. As a teen, I felt I was given the wrong cocktail of hormones during puberty happy hour.
Though I knew deep down that what lied in between my legs did not define me, I still felt limited. I aimed for an unachievable “normalcy.” I wanted to hold hands with a boy, to wear a miniskirt without being called into the principal’s office, and go on with my days without worrying about the gender stuff.
I just wanted to be. I just wanted to be in a body that represented me at my best.
After a lot of hard work, planning and sacrifice, I traveled across the world to Thailand at 18 to seek reconciliation with myself.
Many trans people have to endure two puberties: their biological one and their chosen one they know is absolutely necessary in order to go on. I did not go through this. Gratefully, with the support of my family, my friends, my teachers and my endocrinologist, I was able to experience my transition as my peers in school were also going through their physiological changes in puberty.
My journey to reveal and align myself is detailed in broad strokes for Marie Claire readers. I worked closely with the reporter, who interviewed me at home, and the editors of MC, so that we effectively communicated the nuance of my journey of transition through high school. It needed to be right because it was not only my story; it’s the story of thousands of trans youth.
But I do wish I could change one thing in the piece: the term “boy” which is used a few times. Overall I’m fine with it because I was born in what doctor’s proclaim is a boy’s body. I had no choice in the assignment of my sex at birth. I take issue with the two instances in the piece: The first instance proclaims, “Until she was 18, Janet was a boy,” and then it goes on to say, “I even found other boys like me there…” My genital reconstructive surgery did not make me a girl. I was always a girl.
Despite that glaring and harmful misgendering, I believe the piece does a good job at putting another face out there for a whole generation of young trapped dreamers by showing that despite your circumstance you can become your dream and still hope for so much more. The main reason for my so-called “coming out” is to reach across my little space in this world and speak directly to young people who feel different and feel like outcasts and struggle with their bodies and endure the teasing and the bullying and the taunting. There are kids just like me who need to see people like them reflected on TV and in books and in the pages of magazines like Marie Claire.
I know that stories have the power to heal, to inspire and to makes us realize that we are not alone. I’ll continue to share more stories of my upbringing and my life in general on my blog and in my most important work, my memoir , which I hope will encourage others to more fully themselves.