Trans Visibility: Why Is It So Hard To Discuss My Identity?

With Trans Day of Visibility having come and gone with little fanfare, I attempt to explain why it’s so difficult for people like me to talk about being transgender in modern Britain.

Easter 2024 marks nine years since I first came out openly as being transgender, but my transition is far from over.

I’ve been going by Ronald since mid-late 2017 though I waited to change my name legally until July 2019 due to the backlash I faced for coming out as male. When I moved into the marketing industry, I always presented myself as masculine, using male pronouns and wearing a variety of male clothing from suits and quirky patterned ties to patterned shirts and trouser braces.

However, I have been waiting an excessively long time to begin my medical transition. It took me four years to find a doctor willing to refer me onto the NHS waiting list for the nearest gender identity clinic, five years later and I’m still waiting to be seen.

While working full time in 2021 I was able to save up some money to go private for my Gender Dysphoria diagnosis so I could start transitioning physically sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, the money that would have been spent on my appointments to start hormone therapy had to be used for another emergency situation and by the time I had finally gotten things relatively stable again I no longer had a regular income I could rely on to pay for treatment.

Transitioning for transgender people is always depicted in the media and the news as this lightning-fast process that allows us to do what we want when we want to however this couldn’t be further from the truth. A lot of this coverage is often biased, deliberately omitting important details, or even straight up lying in order to paint a picture of the transgender community as dangerous and mentally unstable.

Every day there seems to be something else in the news or in my personal life that warrants an article of its own. Famous authors pledging money to anti-trans causes and legislation. The government finally admitting conversion therapy is abusive yet considering it a valid form of treatment for the trans community in the same breath. Universities “losing” or “missing” evidence of lecturers being outright transphobic and hostile to trans students when said lecturers threaten to sue them. The many, many murders and suicides of transgender people across the world…

It’s taken me three years to finally get comfortable with the idea of writing about my identity and community again. Having previously been very open and honest about my transition and the way my identity has grown and changed I used to write article and after article about how I was feeling, pouring my heart and soul into my writing for an audience I’d convinced myself wanted to know the truth.

Unfortunately, the people I was writing for had a very specific idea of how transgender people should be viewed and I ended up leaving my position and the entire community I had previously written for when they attempted to attribute ideas and made-up quotes to me that I didn’t agree with and that were wildly offensive and untrue.

Since then, I’ve been considerably more guarded regarding my transgender identity, especially as news coverage has continued to paint an inaccurate picture of who we are and what we stand for. Every time I’ve tried to write about who I really am I’ve deleted my work in a panic, worrying about why I’m attempting to talk about this subject in the first place.

What if people take my work out of context again or look for hidden meaning that aren’t there?

What if cisgender people think I hate them or am accusing everyone of being transphobic?

But what if I’m going too far the other way and putting too much emphasis on people outside the community, painting them as heroes for basic decency?

Do I really want to be known as that guy who prattles on about being trans all the time?

Seriously, why on earth do I want to write about being transgender!?

You make such a beautiful young girl…

But what’s your real name?

I prefer to think of you as a girl…

You seriously think you’re masculine!?

But you’ve got such nice boobs!

Ronnie’s a much prettier name…

That’s Ronald Barr!?

That’s why.

I’ve spared you from the more explicit and gory things that have been said and done to me over the years however these quotes alone should paint a detailed enough picture of what I go through on a regular basis as an openly transgender man. Including when interacting with professionals throughout Bournemouth, Christchurch, and Poole.

I’m saddened to say that half of the quotes listed above are genuine things that have been said to or about me by professionals at well-known businesses and events. For their sake, I won’t be disclosing the names of the individuals or organisations involved as many of you within my network reading this either know them personally or through your own connections.

I’ll emphasise now that the vast majority of my network have been nothing but supportive regarding my identity, however that hasn’t stopped connections, clients, and potential employers from questioning my gender, my name, or even disqualifying me from the hiring process altogether.

That’s not even mentioning attempts from other people to get me to detransition or put me through conversion therapy, threatening me with violence and rape, or completely cutting contact with me because they hate that I refuse to hide who I am.

Regardless of whether people are intentionally being transphobic or are genuinely well-meaning but unaware, transgender people in the UK are being failed. By the government. By doctors. By employers. By schools. By loved ones.

By you.

And by me too.

Not a day goes by when my identity isn’t being called into question, when all I want to do is just go to work, study, hang out with friends, use the toilet without scrutiny, hell, just live my life! And it’s the same for the rest of the transgender community in Britain, if not the world.

I’m tired of being afraid of what people think when I talk about who I am.

I’m tired of having my existence threatened directly and by legislation based on lies.

I’m tired of seeing other young people kill themselves because they don’t see how they can live their lives in peace.

Starting now I’m going to talk about who I am again, and this time people are going to listen. No twisting my words. No using me as a diversity hire. No assuming I’ll “cancel” them.

Will you please just listen?