Transgender Day of Visibility: A Local Story for the T-Boy

Guest post by Andrew Richardson

It is my pleasure to introduce you to people whose lived experiences will help you better understand what it is like to be transgender. 

Each year on March 31, we observe International Transgender Day of Visibility (TDOV). The purpose is to celebrate transgender, non-binary, and gender-nonconforming people worldwide. Founded in 2009, TDOV is a day to celebrate transgender people and their accomplishments. As a result, this brings awareness to the struggles and discrimination they continue to face.

While I can write about ways to honor TDOV, I can't speak to what it means to face these challenges. It is my great joy and honor to have my son-in-law Andrew here to share his experiences with us. 

A Local Story for the T-Boy

Every year on Trans Day of Visibility (TDOV), I feel more present in my transmasculine identity; a phrase I’ve been familiar with since my early twenties. Recently, I have increasingly found myself pausing to really think about the intentional and unintentional ways myself and other trans men are visible for each other.

As a transmasculine adult, visibility has shaped my understanding of who I am, my relationships, and the blissful ways humans often interact together.

From an early age I was looking for signs of visibility. Though I didn’t have the words for it (as many trans people will tell you), my nature almost always gravitated towards masculine, apart from my high school years. The funny thing is, I spent a lot of time waiting for someone else to confirm my visibility. My relationship with myself became something I needed externally validated by others around me. When I first realized I was trans, I didn’t suddenly feel brave or certain. I felt excited. Like someone who just got their second shot. I now understand this was necessary. I was fast-tracking my path to visibility in the best way I could imagine-meeting my husband while pursuing my undergraduate degree.

Leo is someone I could write endless pages about, and let’s be clear, I don’t write a lot. He was blazing his path of visibility many years before I found mine. At first glance, during my final two semesters of college, across the choir circle, Leo really saw me. Our conversations were filled with curiosity, respect, and admiration for one another.

TDOV provides a time when we can take a few moments to celebrate each other’s individual journeys and be active members in our local LGBTQ+ community.

Together, finding our community in rural Vermont has taken some time, but there are often days when we have serendipitous moments that bring me so much joy.

My husband and I have been married for almost 2 years and together for 6 years before that. We have made a home for ourselves in a small community with great potential. Over the years, our search to find more LGBTQ+ community has been slowly increasing. But this takes time and that is to be expected with any search for a community, not just the LGBTQ+ community.

Recently, Leo and I were perusing the shelves in a local book shop and overheard the most wonderful conversation. It was a simple conversation between two transmasculine folks. They shared their stories of how and why they were in this area and mentioned how finding other transmasculine people was hard in a rural area. This issue (the silent path that many trans guys find themselves on) is one I tend to agree with most of the time. But here we were in this little bookstore together. Neither Leo nor I spoke to the two people, but we spent the rest of our visit talking together about just how enjoyable it was to bear witness to this interaction.

This year, I feel different. This year, I feel grounded.This year, I want to hold space for my visibility as a trans man while also holding space for other trans folks to find their own visibility.

As a student of psychology, I know how easy it is to look at your life and focus on the things you don’t have, the things you can’t yet see and the places you haven’t yet been seen in.

So, for those who are not yet comfortable in their visibility, I hope you remember this: whenever you’re ready, and especially if you’re not, you only need to keep your ears open because you never know when you could be the wallflower in a room full of others who have so many shared experiences to yours. It happens in class, it happens in the grocery store, and it happens in your local bookstore.

Visibility is everywhere, but it dresses in plain clothes, sounds like a regular conversation, and shows up in the simplest of places.

Andrew Richardson is a Vermont State University Castleton graduate and currently works as a Student Success Advisor and serves as the LGBTQ club advisor on campus. He helps all students on campus in navigating their academic journey and donates his time to help advise the VTSUnity students who run the club. In his free time, he enjoys quality time with his husband Leo, and two cats, Darcy and Penne, as well as time outside and with friends.