Trans Advocate Janet Mock on Transgender Day of Remembrance
Friday, November 18, 2011 - 11:54am
by Danny Heffernan, GLAAD's Advertising & Campaigns Fellow
http://www.glaad.org/blog/trans-advocate-janet-mock-transgender-day-remembranceIn honor of the Transgender Day of Remembrance this Sunday, November 20, editor and trans advocate Janet Mock wrote a piece on her blog, Fish Food for Thought, about her first date as a 16-year-old beginning her transition. Earlier this year, Janet came out publicly in an article for Marie Claire magazine as a sign of solidarity with LGBT youth. In the following blog excerpt, Janet describes her experience of coming out to her date as a trans teenager and remembers the lives of those transgender women who were victims of violence.
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Heartbroken, I opened the door to his car. I felt rejected and went to my room, crying over how unlucky I was, how no one would ever love me because I was different. Why did I have to be this way? I plead to everyone and no one.
Now, more than a decade later, I look at how lucky I was to get to walk out of that car. I now know the world can sadly be a cruel place. I could have been hit or beat or killed. A victim of a hate crime, one that could have been deemed a mistrial due to the trans panic defense, one where my family would have no closure, one where I'd be buried as a boy because no one but my friends knew my dreams of womanhood.
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Trans Day of Remembrance: A Letter of Blessings to My 16-Year-Old Self
Posted by: Janet Posted date: November 18, 2011
http://janetmock.com/2011/11/18/transgender-day-of-remembrance-2011-first-date-16/When I was 16 years old, I went on my very first date. I was young and cute and had blonde streaks I copied from one of Destiny's Child's early videos. It was my "Bug a Boo" phase, a time in my teen years where I rarely went anywhere without a cowboy hat.
Adrian was tall and lanky and the color of fresh sugar cookies. He was the first man to ever ask me out.
These were things any passing observer could see. But underneath my PYT surface, was a young insecure girl, tiptoeing a delicate line, just months into her transition. Adrian could see the black pants and white blouse and pink lip gloss. He couldn't see the shoulder pads I wore in my panties or the cutlets I stuck in my bra for a curvier look.
