Voices of resilience

I know I'm not a man, about that much I'm very clear, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm probably not a woman either, at least not according to a lot of people's rules on this sort of thing. The trouble is, we're living in a world that insists we be one or the other, a world that doesn't bother to tell us exactly what one or the other is.

If you are trans or non-binary like me, please know that I see you, I feel you, I am with you. You are validated, you are loved and you are not alone. No one can take away our identities and no one can tell us who we are or aren't.

I constantly had to educate people and explain why I identified with those pronouns. It was absolutely exhausting. And that is one of the reasons I know it's important to continue spreading the word.

I feel even more seen, and even more like me. Which is uncharted, uncertain territory for me, as I'm so used to hiding.

It's not that I don't want to wear my femme clothes to work; it's that I know as soon as I do, my entire nonbinary identity will be disregarded … Even people who claim to be accepting of nonbinary gender still expect that our expression must deviate from the norms associated with our sex assigned at birth.

They shouldn't be made to feel like their identities are not mainstream, or to be marginalised just through genre and categories. … I think it's really important to break down those binaries, and not feel that because you are making 'weird' music, that you are a 'weird' person.

When I was younger, I wish I would have been told more often that I was right and nothing was wrong with me, that I was deserving of everything this world has to offer, and that my visions for my future were worthy of pursuit.

Nonbinary is both a gender identity and a big middle finger aimed at the concept of gender itself. … I get called 'she' every day — and I admit that I often let it slide or gently remind people that my pronouns are they/them, because I don't have the time or energy to explain the intricate inner workings of my gender identity.

I constantly had to educate people and explain why I identified with those pronouns. It was absolutely exhausting. And that is one of the reasons I know it's important to continue spreading the word.

I feel even more seen, and even more like me. Which is uncharted, uncertain territory for me, as I'm so used to hiding.

It's not that I don't want to wear my femme clothes to work; it's that I know as soon as I do, my entire nonbinary identity will be disregarded … Even people who claim to be accepting of nonbinary gender still expect that our expression must deviate from the norms associated with our sex assigned at birth.

Identifying as nonbinary was my way of saying to everyone else, 'I'm not playing your game.' … The sneaky magical thing about that word, nonbinary, is that it doesn't say what you are. It only says what you're not.

The gender thing is something that is imposed on you. We are born as who we are.

Trans people are extraordinary, strong, intelligent, persistent and resilient. We have to be. And we will not stand for the picking and choosing of rights. We still have hope.

It is really important, in a world that is often very 'either/or', to remember there can be both, neither and everything — that is, other than the 'binary' of male or female.

For me, gender is a spectrum. My gender identity and expression is entirely about me, and not about how other people perceive me. I don't know how we deal with that in a world so desperate to define by gender.

Being nonbinary is not new. It's not niche. You've always existed. You deserve to be seen, supported, and protected.

While it is true that who I am today looks a lot different than who I was yesterday, the river indeed has changed too. My identity, however, has not. Like an unwavering beacon in the dark, it is the light that has always called me home.