Stepping into the Emotional Battlefield of Gender Identity
I find myself treading on ground where even the most courageous angels hesitate. It’s a terrain littered with explosive emotions and polarizing opinions. Until now, I have managed to steer clear of this perilous zone, but recent events compelled me to confront it head-on.
The catalyst for this introspection was a conversation with an old friend, a Ugandan Asian, much like myself. She reached out to share some troubling news. Her 15-year-old granddaughter, she revealed, is a “beautiful girl” who wishes to transition to male. “She is going to the doctors to get hormones,” my friend said, her voice heavy with concern. “Nothing changes her mind. She is determined to be a man. Why? I can’t comprehend it. I’ve read about men who were once female and have committed terrible acts. It’s all so horrifying.” Tears followed her words.
As fate would have it, just a few days later, I tuned into the radio and heard “Young Lion,” Sade’s first release in six years. This song is a heartfelt tribute to her transgender son, Izaak. Sade’s voice remains as enchanting and soulful as ever. The lyrics resonate deeply:
“Young man, it’s been so heavy for you/ You must have felt so alone/ The anguish and pain/ I should’ve known/ With such a heavy burden/ You had to carry all on your own/ Forgive me, son/ I should’ve known.”
Moved by the song, I shared a YouTube link with my friend and also connected her with someone who works tirelessly for a trans rights charity. Yesterday, she sent me an email:
“This lady introduced me to some really nice trans people. Now I understand that it’s not horrible. It’s only the arguments in the media that made me anxious.”
We have become desensitized to the contentious debates between those who assert that gender is a fixed, biological reality and those who passionately argue against it. The public discourse is often dominated by fierce conflicts over rights and accusations of “wokery,” rather than focusing on the real human beings grappling with a multitude of emotions in an unforgiving and often hostile world.
One of our most beloved feminists, Sandi Toksvig, whom I admire, spoke at a Christmas concert at the Royal Albert Hall in London last December. She recounted how, three decades ago, society feared that “lesbians would destroy everything we hold dear,” and now the transgender community faces similar prejudices. She declared, “I won’t stand by and let that happen. I will stand up each time and say no. Clearly, if you’re anti-trans, it’s because you lack trans friends. If you truly knew them, you wouldn’t be able to look yourself in the mirror while saying such terrible things.” It’s likely that she faced backlash from those she challenged.
Last week, a letter published in The Guardian echoed Toksvig’s sentiments. Written by Rachael Stevenson, it described her young adult son’s transition to a trans woman. Initially, she felt fear:
“Transphobia is rampant now, just as homophobia was 20 years ago. It seems that society’s parallels to that situation are now ignored, as we once again find ways to ‘other’ people for being different and seek reasons to vilify them.”
She expressed pride in her daughter, who is thriving at university and in the world:
“To say I’m proud is an understatement.”
Tragic Narratives and the Fight for Understanding
This February, Under the Pink Sky, a harrowing memoir by Esther Ghey, was published. It recounts the tragic murder of her trans daughter, Brianna, at the hands of two teenagers. The judge determined that one motive was “hostility towards Brianna because of her transgender identity.”
In a poignant turn, a recent excerpt from Her Name is Alice: My Daughter, Her Transition and Why We Must Remember Her, by Caroline Litman, surfaced. Litman, who has been interviewed by The i Paper, shared the heartbreaking story of her daughter Alice, who battled severe gender dysphoria. Alice experienced profound distress from the mismatch between her biological sex and her gender identity. Tragically, she struggled with suicidal thoughts in 2019 and ultimately took her own life in 2022 at the age of 20, after waiting 1,023 days for an appointment at a gender identity clinic. Litman, formerly an NHS psychiatrist, now grapples with guilt:
“I didn’t want a transgender child. I’d seen the press coverage becoming increasingly toxic regarding trans issues. I didn’t want that for Alice. It was acceptable for other people’s children but not for my own. I feel so ashamed.”
She believes that her daughter would still be alive today had she received “gold standard” puberty blockers earlier.
TV presenter Lorraine Kelly has recently released a bestselling novel, The Island Swimmer, featuring a character named Freya, a lovable older trans woman based on Jane, a school bus driver. Kelly asserts that the trans individuals she knows “just want to get on with their lives.”
Ultimately, trans people deserve our understanding, compassion, and the opportunity to live safely and with dignity. Is that too much to ask?