This is me - Losing the binary saved my life
Finding the words to articulate who I am took thirty-eight years. Finding the confidence to use those words would take another two. Hi, I’m Terry and I am a non-binary gender queer photographer. Those are words that I never thought I would say out loud, let alone have images that show who I am. Being queer in Texas isn’t the easiest thing in the world, and when you add gender identity into the mix and it just gets really complicated.
I grew up in a middle class white family. One that heavily encouraged attending the local Baptist church. Growing up in this atmosphere left me feeling alone and disconnected. You see I never fully felt like a boy. That was how I was treated though. That is how I was raised. Growing up in a religious household in a religion that says queer people are evil and deserve to burn did wonders for my mental health. I silently kept who I was hidden away. I didn’t feel comfortable, let alone safe, to come out and talk about my queerness.
I dressed the part and lived my life as a cis heterosexual male for the entirety of my adolescence. I didn’t rock the boat and did what was expected of me. Even though I was struggling with feeling seen and truly accepted.
I was “accepted” as long as I fit the standard expected of me. As long as I played the part that I was cast at birth. That didn’t help with feeling like an outsider. I didn’t allow myself to connect with people deeply because I didn’t want them to see past the walls that I kept up to hide this side of me that went so entirely out of bounds of what was acceptable.
Not feeling like I could be myself contributed heavily to depression and feeling broken. Multiple times in my teen years I held a razor to my wrist ready to end my life to make the pain go away. Between the bullying and the not being able to share openly of who I was for fear of rejection and abandonment was a daily battle.
As I grew into adulthood and the pressures of playing at being who I was expected to be lifted off my chest I could finally breathe. I was able to come out as queer and live more openly as myself and learn what that meant for me.
However, there was still part of me that was hidden. A part of me that didn’t have words to express outwardly why I felt “right” when I put on a dress or clothing socially deemed as feminine. I didn’t feel like a boy, and I didn’t feel like a girl. However, both had things that I connected with.
I would explore this in secret and kept it hidden even from those closest to me. While I had been accepted as queer, I wasn’t able to talk about this other aspect. I didn’t have the words to understand it within myself let alone the ability to talk to someone about it. It made me embarrassed because I still thought there was something wrong with me.
As I moved into my mid thirties I started actively working to educate myself on the trans experience to be a better ally to this portion of the community that was marginalized even, sometimes especially, within the LGBTQ+ community. It was through this that stories were resonating with me more and more. I kept seeing myself in the stories of these people I was absorbing. The language manifested and I was able to finally articulate myself.
I’m non-binary. I’m not a boy. I’m not a girl. I’m masculine. I’m feminine.
Being non-binary is something I have always been. I just lacked the words and the freedom to explore and understand what that means for me. Having the support system in place as a kid would have changed so many things about the way things played out in my life. Having representation be present when I was young was vitally missing. Not having people to look toward to see myself reflected back did a great disservice to you younger self.
This is why I am so vocal. This is why I try to be present and share my message. So that those that are in a similar situation and finding who you are still, have someone that you can see reflected back at you. So that you know that you are not alone. That even when life feels difficult and like it would just be easier to take the path of suicide, life can be so much more. There are people that understand. Furthermore, there are people that will embrace you and love you and celebrate you for exactly who you are.
Being able to say that I am non-binary. Being able to present in a way that feel authentic to me. It saved my life. It helped me stop feeling alone, lost, and broken. If you are in a similar situation know that life will get different. Things will change. You are worthy of being here and you are loved.
I am proud of the person that I am. I am glad that I am able to tell my story. My hope is that by sharing my story, we have more people living to tell their own.
When I see portraits of me in a dress or clothing that is generally socially deemed as for women, I am happy. I feel content and at peace. I feel like myself.
Letting go of the conditioning of my youth. Allowing the shame, guilt, fear or being who I am melt away has allowed me to blossom into someone that I am very proud of. Someone that I love. Most importantly someone that I wish my younger self would have been able to see. To know that it’s going to be alright. That they are worthy of living and being loved.
I am neither male nor female. I am non-binary. I am me, and I love who I am.