Opinions
Understanding trans identity from a therapy perspective
Navigating friendships, romantic relationships, other facets of daily existence
The trans identity has been written about extensively from a political perspective. Many columns in the Blade, and other outlets, speak of gender ID laws, barriers in trans healthcare, pronouns, trans representation in state legislatures and eventually Congress, and the legality of offering trans children hormone blockers, among other treatments.
While speaking of politics can be good, it’s equally important to understand trans lives from the perspective of someone with a social work degree — or, in other words, from an emotional and therapeutic perspective.
Trans people, simply put, face many emotional barriers in life that others usually don’t have to encounter. Let me list several here. I don’t have an MSW, but will try my best to articulate these problems in detail.
First and foremost, trans people face lots of change: change in personality, change in appearance, change in passing versus not passing. Whether we like it or not, change invariably means that we have to act differently in the environments that surround us, and when we change as people, we also have to change our behavior and relationships with others. I like to tell friends this saying: “Change is inherently uncomfortable, and change is painful. Moving from one place in life to another means there is lots of growth, but also room for lots of loneliness when you have reached a new personal destination.”
As someone who changed from being a cis female to a man who fully passes as one — and never gets mistaken as trans — this transformation invariably affected my relationships with others. Suddenly, I was expected to make friends with other cis men, some straight, and forming these new relationships took lots of work and necessitated more personal growth. While change can be good, it is also hard, and few others know what it feels like to have to shuffle friendships.
The second emotional barrier trans people face is one that is almost instantly recognizable: our love lives. To be very frank, trans men often go from being an object of sexual desire, as cis females, to being men who repulse many people away. Others view our bodies as disgusting and something to avoid. Many lesbians like to avoid trans men and think that sleeping with us is some form of betrayal to their own community. If trans men are interested in men, we face the problem of wanting to sleep with people who statistically assault us more, and can be violent and degrading to our bodies. Trans people also sleep with people who want to keep our dalliances secret, which shames us into thinking that our bodies are not something to be proud of, but rather monstrous things that can only exist underneath the sheets, and not outside of bedroom doors.
The third emotional hurdle trans people face is that of passing: some of us pass extremely well, but others don’t. There is conflict within the trans community between those who pass and those who don’t. Some in the community view passing as another sign of betrayal to those of our own kin: trans men who pass fully as men are often excluded from queer events or groups. Cis people might think that it’s a choice for us to pass well, when in reality passing is often a result of genetics, as people with thicker jaw lines and more muscle can naturally adopt the other gender better. Passing is a source of envy and jealousy, and ignites fault lines within our community, when in reality, we need less rupture in our community in order to survive as one whole group.
The fourth emotional obstacle trans people face is job security, and managing emotions in the workplace. As a transman who passes well and is never mistaken for gender nonconforming, I can say firsthand that it is easy to never have to talk about being trans at a job. In fact, it usually serves us well to not talk about our transness in career settings, as gender variance is something that cruelly detracts from our career prospects, and rarely adds to career growth. Unfortunately, most workplaces are laden with colleagues — usually male, and usually older — who are transphobic to some extent. Navigating these difficult relationships requires a lot of emotional labor that can otherwise be put into finishing memos, leading meetings, and scaling the corporate ladder. But instead, we’re left to fight old crusty men in cubicles.
There are many more emotional hurdles we face, which can be described in other columns. As stated, it is critical to understand trans lives through an emotional lens, comprehending the difficult feelings we face with friendships, romantic relationships, and other facets of daily existence.
Isaac Amend (he/him/his) is a trans man and young professional in the D.C. area. He was featured on National Geographic’s ‘Gender Revolution’ in 2017 as a student at Yale University. Amend is also on the board of the LGBT Democrats of Virginia. Find him on Instagram @isaacamend.
Commentary
Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength
Rebuilding life and business after profound struggles
I grew up an overweight, gay Black boy in West Baltimore, so I know what it feels like not to fit into a world that was not really made for you. When I was 18, my mother passed from congestive heart failure, and fitness became a sanctuary for my mental health rather than just a place to build my body. That is the line I open most speeches with when people ask who I am and why I started SWEAT DC.
The truth is that little boy never really left me.
Even now, at 42 years old, standing 6 feet 3 inches and 225 pounds as a fitness business owner, I still carry the fears, judgments, and insecurities of that broken kid. Many of us do. We grow into new seasons of life, but the messages we absorbed when we were young linger and shape the stories we tell ourselves. My lack of confidence growing up pushed me to chase perfection as I aged. So, of course, I ended up in Washington, D.C., which I lovingly call the most perfection obsessed city in the world.
Chances are that if you are reading this, you feel some of that too.
D.C. is a place where your resume walks through the door before you do, where degrees, salaries, and the perfect body feel like unspoken expectations. In the age of social media, the pressure is even louder. We are all scrolling through each other’s highlight reels, comparing our behind the scenes to someone else’s curated moment. And I am not above it. I have posted the perfect photo with the inspirational “God did it again” caption when I am feeling great and then gone completely quiet when life feels heavy. I am guilty of loving being the strong friend while hating to admit that sometimes I am the friend who needs support.
We are all caught in a system that teaches us perfection or nothing at all. But what I know for sure now is this: Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength.
When I first stepped into leadership, trying to be the perfect CEO, I found Brené Brown’s book, “Daring Greatly” and immediately grabbed onto the idea that vulnerability is strength. I wanted to create a community at SWEAT where people felt safe enough to be real. Staff, members, partners, everyone. “Welcome Home” became our motto for a reason. Our mission is to create a world where everyone feels confident in their skin.
But in my effort to build that world for others, I forgot to build it for myself.
Since launching SWEAT as a pop up fundraiser in 2015, opening our first brick and mortar in 2017, surviving COVID, reemerging and scaling, and now preparing to open our fifth location in Shaw in February 2026, life has been full. Along the way, I went from having a tight trainer six pack to gaining nearly 50 pounds as a stressed out entrepreneur. I lost my father. I underwent hip replacement surgery. I left a relationship that looked fine on paper but was not right. I took on extra jobs to keep the business alive. I battled alcoholism. I faced depression and loneliness. There are more stories than I can fit in one piece.
But the hardest battle was the one in my head. I judged myself for not having the body I once had. I asked myself how I could lead a fitness company if I was not in perfect shape. I asked myself how I could be a gay man in this city and not look the way I used to.
Then came the healing.
A fraternity brother said to me on the phone, “G, you have to forgive yourself.” It stopped me in my tracks. I had never considered forgiving myself. I only knew how to push harder, chase more, and hide the cracks. When we hung up, I cried. That moment opened something in me. I realized I had not neglected my body. I had held my life and my business together the best way I knew how through unimaginable seasons.
I stopped shaming myself for not looking like my past. I started honoring the new ways I had proven I was strong.
So here is what I want to offer anyone who is in that dark space now. Give yourself the same grace you give everyone else. Love yourself through every phase, not just the shiny ones. Recognize growth even when growth simply means you are still here.
When I created SWEAT, I hoped to build a home where people felt worthy just as they are, mostly because I needed that home too. My mission now is to carry that message beyond our walls and into the city I love. To build a STRONGER DC.
Because strength is not perfection. Strength is learning to love an imperfect you.
With love and gratitude, Coach G.
Gerard Burley, also known as Coach G, is a D.C.-based fitness entrepreneur.
I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and can enjoy it with family and friends and that you have things you can be thankful for this past year. That you have your health. Now here is the column I would have liked to share with you this Thanksgiving:
To all my friends and family. This year I am thankful the felon has left the White House. It feels we can all finally breath again. I am so happy his idea of a ballroom at the White House was a joke, and we can once again walk in Jackie Kennedy’s rose garden, and visit the beautiful East Wing. I am thankful the felon’s personal Goebbels, Stephen Miller, lost his job when the reality that he was a fascist was too much to take. It was wonderful to see the Supreme Court wake up and do their job once again. They stopped drinking the MAGA Kool-Aid and voided all the executive orders calling on museums to hide the history of Black Americans, women, and the LGBTQ community. They told the president he didn’t have the right to place tariffs, and that he couldn’t fire legally appointed members of commissions under the rubric of Congress’s control.
Then I am thankful the Congress began to do its job. That so many Republicans grew a set of balls and decided to challenge Speaker Mike ‘sycophant’ Johnson, reminding him they were an independent part of government, and didn’t need to rubber stamp everything the felon wanted. I was thankful to see them extend the SNAP program indefinitely, and the same with the tax credits for the ACA, agreeing to include these important programs in next year’s budget. Then they went further, and paid for the programs, by rescinding all the tax benefits they had given to the wealthy, and corporations, in the felon’s big ugly bill. Finally realizing it is the poor and middle class who they had to help if the country was to move forward. Then I can’t thank them enough for finally passing the Equality Act, and doing it with a veto proof majority, so the felon had to sign it, before he left office. They did the same for the Choice Act, and the Voting Rights Act. It was a glorious year with so much to be thankful for.
Then I am so thankful Congress finally stood up to the felon and said he couldn’t start wars without their approval, and the Supreme Court ruled they were right. That attacking Venezuela was not something he had the right to do. Then the final thing the court did this year I am thankful for, is they actually modified their ruling on presidential immunity, and said the felon’s grifting was not covered, as under their decision that was private, and not done in his role as president. Again, can’t thank them enough for waking up and doing that.
Then there is even more I am thankful for this year. It was so nice to see Tesla collapse, and Musk lose his trillion-dollar salary. The people finally woke up to him and insisted Congress mandate the satellite system he built, basically with money from the government, was actually owned by the government, and he could no longer control who can use it. It was determined he alone would not be able to tell Ukraine whether or not they can use it in their war defending against the Russian invasion. Then I am so thankful Congress went even further, and approved the funds needed by the Ukrainians for long-range missiles, and a missile defense system, accepting Ukraine was actually fighting a proxy war for the West, and Ukraine winning that war would help keep our own men and women off the battlefield.
And speaking of our military, I thank Congress for lifting the ban on transgender persons in the military, and honoring their service, along with the service of women, Black service members, all members of the LGBTQ community, and all minorities. It was fun to see Pete Hegseth being led out of the Pentagon, and being reminded he wasn’t the Secretary of War. There is no Department of War, it is still the Department of Defense, with congressional oversight. Again, so many things to be thankful for this past year. It seemed like my heart runneth over.
Then my alarm went off and I woke up from my big beautiful dream, only to realize I was still living in the Trumpian nightmare.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Commentary
Elusive safety: what new global data reveals about gender, violence, and erasure
Movements against gender equality, lack of human rights data contributing factors.
“My identity could be revealed, people can say whatever they want [online] without consequences. [Hormone replacement therapy] is illegal here so I’m just waiting to find a way to get out of here.”
-Anonymous respondent to the 2024 F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index from Iraq, self-identified as a transgender woman and lesbian
As the campaign for 16 Days Against Gender-Based Violence begins, it is a reminder that gender-based violence (GBV) — both on– and offline — not only impacts women and girls but everyone who has been harmed or abused because of their gender or perceived gender. New research from the Franklin & Marshall (F&M) Global Barometers and its report A Growing Backlash: Quantifying the Experiences of LGBTQI+ People, 2022-2024 starkly show trends of declining safety among LGBTQI+ persons around the world.
This erosion of safety is accelerated by movements against gender equality and the disappearance of credible human rights data and reporting. The fight against GBV means understanding all people’s lived realities, including those of LGBTQI+ people, alongside the rights we continue to fight for.
We partnered together while at USAID and Franklin & Marshall College to expand the research and evidence base to better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons through the F&M Global Barometers. The collection of barometers tracks the legal rights and lived experiences of LGBTQI+ persons from 204 countries and territories from 2011 to the present. With more than a decade of data, it allows us to see how rights have progressed and receded as well as the gaps between legal protections and lived experiences of discrimination and violence.
This year’s data reveals alarming trends that highlight how fear and violence are, at its root, gendered phenomena that affect anyone who transgresses traditional gender norms.
LGBTQI+ people feel less safe
Nearly two-thirds of countries experienced a decline in their score on the F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index (GBPI) from 2022-2024. This represents a five percent drop in global safety scores in just two years. With almost 70 percent of countries receiving an “F” grade on the GBPI, this suggests a global crisis in actual human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people.
Backsliding on LGBTQI+ human rights is happening everywhere, even in politically stable, established democracies with human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people. Countries in Western Europe and the Americas experienced the greatest negative GBPI score changes globally, 74 and 67 percent, respectively. Transgender people globally reported the highest likelihood of violence, while trans women and intersex people reported the highest levels of feeling very unsafe or unsafe simply because of who they are.
Taboo of gender equality
Before this current administration dismantled USAID, I helped create an LGBTQI+ inclusive whole-of-government strategy to prevent and respond to GBV that highlighted the unique forms of GBV against LGBTQI+ persons. This included so-called ‘corrective’ rape related to actual or perceived sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression” and so-called ‘conversion’ therapy practices that seek to change or suppress a person’s gender identity or expression, sexual orientation, or sex characteristics. These efforts helped connect the dots in understanding that LGBTQI+ violence is rooted in the same systems of inequality and power imbalances as the broader spectrum of GBV against women and girls.
Losing data and accountability
Data that helps better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons is also disappearing. Again, the dismantling of USAID meant a treasure trove of research and reports on LGBTQI+ rights have been lost. Earlier this year, the US Department of State removed LGBTQI+ reporting from its annual Human Rights Reports. These played a critical role in providing credible sources for civil society, researchers, and policymakers to track abuses and advocate for change.
If violence isn’t documented, it’s easier for governments to deny it even exists and harder for us to hold governments accountable. Yet when systems of accountability work, governments and civil society can utilize data in international forums like the UN Universal Periodic Review, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, and the Sustainable Development Goals to assess progress and compliance and call for governments to improve protections.
All may not be lost if other countries and donors fill the void by supporting independent data collection and reporting efforts like the F&M Global Barometers and other academic and civil society monitoring. Such efforts are essential to the fight against GBV: The data helps show that the path toward safety, equality, and justice is within our reach if we’re unafraid of truth and visibility of those most marginalized and impacted.
Jay Gilliam (he/him/his) was the Senior LGBTQI+ Coordinator at USAID and is a member of the Global Outreach Advisory Council of the F&M Global Barometers.
Susan Dicklitch-Nelson (she/her/hers) is the founder of the F&M Global Barometers and Professor of Government at Franklin & Marshall College.
