Trans Visibilty Day 2020
It’s really strange to me that this is the third Trans Day of Visibility that I’ve written about – all of them so wildly different from each other – the first one, so very soon after I’d come out was so naïve looking back. My heart was in the right place, I think it always is, but my thoughts, and my knowledge wasn’t. Last year I’d taken my first baby steps into being properly visible, I’d started hormone therapy and on TDoV last year I officially changed my name – I guess this is my first birthday. I still, in the words of Jon Snow’s girlfriend, knew nothing. This, year, the first year being Bobbi, has been one of breakneck change in every aspect of my life. I now know more than I did, I’ve seen more and I’ve listened more. I still don’t know enough.
I never really set out to be a role model, I just wanted to change things, to make people understand, to try and prevent others having to take the same road I did – that’s still so passionately the case. Aside from my kids it’s probably the most important thing to me. The role model label came as a complete surprise and it still sits uncomfortably with me. There are people far better than me, far more talented, more empathic, effect greater change than me that get no recognition at all. The label is one I feel I need to earn, to repay and live up to every single day, I will do better.
This year has been the one where lots of people seem to have heard of me – it’s strange – but its also the year where I have been priviledged to meet some truly inspiring people, some of whom are now my friends. It’s the year where I’ve won two amazing awards – the Outstanding LGBT+ Future Leaders and the Rainbow Honours LGBT+ Diversity Champion – I won’t state yet again how unworthy I feel of both of them. I,with the help of my amazing friend Freddie Cormack, arranged the huge Trans in the City collaboration – 65 organisations joining together to raise trans awareness. It was the year I discovered that actually I’m ok at public speaking, I rely a lot on my experience of playing in bands in working mens clubs I know, I don’t get nervous and I enjoy getting my message out. It was the year I moved to expressing solely as female, far too slowly and organically for some people I know! I’ve trained over 2000 people and almost reached the grand total of 100 introduction to transgender courses. I’ve been on BBC world news and spoken at lots of events. It has been the year that I have been absolutely visible.
Its also the year that I’ve realised that I’m incredibly lucky and privileged as a transwoman – because I can also be invisible. I’m not massively tall, I’m slim build with smallish shoulders, I have amazing hair that I love. I have enough money that I’ve been able to afford private hormone treatment and avoid the minimum 4 year wait on the NHS. I’m able to pay for my own electrolysis no matter how much I hate it. I can blend in, I can walk down the street, or go shopping, or go anywhere and very few people guess I’m transgender, except when I talk. That’s a privilege that not many transwomen have, many have to face abuse, ridicule and hatred on a daily basis because they are transgender and can’t blend in.
That abuse, that societal pressure, whether online or in the street, is still costing people their mental wellbeing and their lives. I know of two trans people that took their own lives over Xmas and a third that luckily survived an overdose. We, I, still have so much to do. We need everyone to understand that being transgender is natural, it’s not a choice.
That’s why even though I could blend in it’s so important that I don’t, its so important that I and every transgender person, if they are able, talk about what being transgender is, to normalise it, to help people understand every single day – I honestly think most people want to understand and are open minded. That’s why, as I’ve said for the past two years, Trans Day of Visibility is so important – it’s gives a focus and opportunity, one day, that amplifies trans peoples voices.
This year has been a massive year for me aside from trans activities too, and probably one of the toughest I’ve been through. In 2019 I made the huge mistake of working far too hard– I only took 2 days off and did around 400 hours outside of work on LGBT stuff as well. I ended up exhausted. My daughter, our youngest child, went off to university and I struggled so much with not seeing her, I still do (made me cry just typing that haha) I’m so proud of her but both my children have been my rocks in so many ways and its left a huge gap in my life. My wife and I separated after 28 years, not wholly because of me being trans, there were other factors as well, but that left me homeless in the first part of the new year and I’ve stayed with various friends and family since. Finally the tax changes meant the company that I’d built up over ten years had to close and I knew my main income would be ending in March. I think at one point at the end of January I was dealing with four of the five most stressful life experiences simultaneously.
In my usual style I told very few people and just tried to get on with things but the cherry on the cake was when one of my friends told me I’d become negative and whining and that really hit me very hard. I confide how I’m really feeling to very few people – everyone else gets the “its all fine, we can do it” Bobbi. I was living out of a suitcase, losing my job in 10 weeks, on my own for the first time in my life so I think I was probably entitled to feel sorry for myself and scared but it did make me take stock of me, how I react and what I’m like when things look bleak - that’s a hugely useful and positive thing. Since then I have been trying to only look at the good things – and there are so many – and to let go of the things that really aren’t important.
I know so many people are struggling with the isolation, uncertainty and anxiety due to COVID-19 – I am too; its not a great time not to have your own home, and be on your own for the first time frankly but all of the cancelled events and time sitting alone has given me time to reflect on what I need to be happy and I don’t think it’s a lot. Despite everything I’m the happiest I think I’ve been for so many years, I don’t remember having such a baseline happiness as I have now. I think it’s a testament to this that despite everything that has happened this year that I still want to be here and not once have I thought otherwise. It does seem a good opportunity to figure out exactly what I really want to do going forward with my life – another first for this year is me actually looking to the future – the time when everything has been thrown in the air seems a good time to think about what you’d prefer your life to be. Whatever happens I know things will be ok if I just keep going - they always are.
This year has been one that I have grown phenomenally as a person, I am so much more confident in the things I can do, and in me – because I am me. I have so many people that have supported me, helped me, given me tissues when I needed to cry, given me places to stay, told me things will be fine, celebrated, laughed, shared so much love. Being transgender is such a positive, wonderful thing and that is worth a day of visibility, of celebration in itself. See you in 2021.
Bobbi March 2020
I never really set out to be a role model, I just wanted to change things, to make people understand, to try and prevent others having to take the same road I did – that’s still so passionately the case. Aside from my kids it’s probably the most important thing to me. The role model label came as a complete surprise and it still sits uncomfortably with me. There are people far better than me, far more talented, more empathic, effect greater change than me that get no recognition at all. The label is one I feel I need to earn, to repay and live up to every single day, I will do better.
This year has been the one where lots of people seem to have heard of me – it’s strange – but its also the year where I have been priviledged to meet some truly inspiring people, some of whom are now my friends. It’s the year where I’ve won two amazing awards – the Outstanding LGBT+ Future Leaders and the Rainbow Honours LGBT+ Diversity Champion – I won’t state yet again how unworthy I feel of both of them. I,with the help of my amazing friend Freddie Cormack, arranged the huge Trans in the City collaboration – 65 organisations joining together to raise trans awareness. It was the year I discovered that actually I’m ok at public speaking, I rely a lot on my experience of playing in bands in working mens clubs I know, I don’t get nervous and I enjoy getting my message out. It was the year I moved to expressing solely as female, far too slowly and organically for some people I know! I’ve trained over 2000 people and almost reached the grand total of 100 introduction to transgender courses. I’ve been on BBC world news and spoken at lots of events. It has been the year that I have been absolutely visible.
Its also the year that I’ve realised that I’m incredibly lucky and privileged as a transwoman – because I can also be invisible. I’m not massively tall, I’m slim build with smallish shoulders, I have amazing hair that I love. I have enough money that I’ve been able to afford private hormone treatment and avoid the minimum 4 year wait on the NHS. I’m able to pay for my own electrolysis no matter how much I hate it. I can blend in, I can walk down the street, or go shopping, or go anywhere and very few people guess I’m transgender, except when I talk. That’s a privilege that not many transwomen have, many have to face abuse, ridicule and hatred on a daily basis because they are transgender and can’t blend in.
That abuse, that societal pressure, whether online or in the street, is still costing people their mental wellbeing and their lives. I know of two trans people that took their own lives over Xmas and a third that luckily survived an overdose. We, I, still have so much to do. We need everyone to understand that being transgender is natural, it’s not a choice.
That’s why even though I could blend in it’s so important that I don’t, its so important that I and every transgender person, if they are able, talk about what being transgender is, to normalise it, to help people understand every single day – I honestly think most people want to understand and are open minded. That’s why, as I’ve said for the past two years, Trans Day of Visibility is so important – it’s gives a focus and opportunity, one day, that amplifies trans peoples voices.
This year has been a massive year for me aside from trans activities too, and probably one of the toughest I’ve been through. In 2019 I made the huge mistake of working far too hard– I only took 2 days off and did around 400 hours outside of work on LGBT stuff as well. I ended up exhausted. My daughter, our youngest child, went off to university and I struggled so much with not seeing her, I still do (made me cry just typing that haha) I’m so proud of her but both my children have been my rocks in so many ways and its left a huge gap in my life. My wife and I separated after 28 years, not wholly because of me being trans, there were other factors as well, but that left me homeless in the first part of the new year and I’ve stayed with various friends and family since. Finally the tax changes meant the company that I’d built up over ten years had to close and I knew my main income would be ending in March. I think at one point at the end of January I was dealing with four of the five most stressful life experiences simultaneously.
In my usual style I told very few people and just tried to get on with things but the cherry on the cake was when one of my friends told me I’d become negative and whining and that really hit me very hard. I confide how I’m really feeling to very few people – everyone else gets the “its all fine, we can do it” Bobbi. I was living out of a suitcase, losing my job in 10 weeks, on my own for the first time in my life so I think I was probably entitled to feel sorry for myself and scared but it did make me take stock of me, how I react and what I’m like when things look bleak - that’s a hugely useful and positive thing. Since then I have been trying to only look at the good things – and there are so many – and to let go of the things that really aren’t important.
I know so many people are struggling with the isolation, uncertainty and anxiety due to COVID-19 – I am too; its not a great time not to have your own home, and be on your own for the first time frankly but all of the cancelled events and time sitting alone has given me time to reflect on what I need to be happy and I don’t think it’s a lot. Despite everything I’m the happiest I think I’ve been for so many years, I don’t remember having such a baseline happiness as I have now. I think it’s a testament to this that despite everything that has happened this year that I still want to be here and not once have I thought otherwise. It does seem a good opportunity to figure out exactly what I really want to do going forward with my life – another first for this year is me actually looking to the future – the time when everything has been thrown in the air seems a good time to think about what you’d prefer your life to be. Whatever happens I know things will be ok if I just keep going - they always are.
This year has been one that I have grown phenomenally as a person, I am so much more confident in the things I can do, and in me – because I am me. I have so many people that have supported me, helped me, given me tissues when I needed to cry, given me places to stay, told me things will be fine, celebrated, laughed, shared so much love. Being transgender is such a positive, wonderful thing and that is worth a day of visibility, of celebration in itself. See you in 2021.
Bobbi March 2020