I really enjoyed listening to the video and reading along. I took down pictures of my trans family member at their request and I have some photos pre transition in a hidden file on my phone. I don’t look at them often but when I do I find it stranger to see the pre photos than the way I see them now in person. I’ve grown accustomed to that face and it feels more real than before.
Yeah, I find that fascinating. Maybe it's a little like watching a kid grow into an adult. We look back at pictures of them when they were young, and it's sometimes hard to connect that with the person we know now.
This was beautiful Robin, and what a treat to be able to watch you read your own words.
Thank you for sharing such an intimate part of your life with us. I must admit I had never given much thought to what would become of pictures of those who’ve transitioned… and you gave me so much to consider and muse about.
For me personally, I’ve found immense joy in using my rudimentary photoshop skills to re-gender some of my childhood photos. The kid in those photos didn’t know that being non-binary was an option, so going back in time and changing the past to give her that option she didn’t have feels really affirming. (It’s also a nice way to let my mom hang up old photos without cringing internally every time I see them.)
For people who don’t want the DIY option, there’s a trans woman named Andrea Carpenter who offers this as a professional service through her business, Gender Carpentry.
This is brilliant. I've seen some other trans folx show touched up photos of themselves from similar sources, and this is definitely a gift of modern photo apps (and artists like the one you mention).
thank you for sharing so openly, with such vulnerability this aspect of you and your family's experience. it's become clear to me as i've progressed on my own journey my subconscious motivation - i used to hang photos of my father as a young man rather than those of myself...
You know, prior to transitioning I dreaded pictures of myself that made me look like my mother. Now, I find that I look a lot like my father, and it doesn't really bother me at all. It's pretty pleasing, in fact.
This was courageous and generous and so very relatable for me, Robin. Looking at photographs of myself pre-and-early transition is such a kaleidoscopic emotional experience. I suppose it's also a good barometer of where I'm at on any given day in terms of my dysphoria and my level of psycho-emotional integration. And of course, there's the landscape of transphobia, transmisia, and overall trans hysteria that factors in, too.
The impostor feelings you named are there for me, too, as is the preoccupation with how others might see me now if they see how I presented earlier in my life. That happens for me even when I tell others that I'm trans. It's hard to put words to what it feels like when I see even a subtle shift in someone's eyes, or a slight ripple of something in their face that belies their cognitive dissonance at the two separate, but valid realities of me. It's easier to name that it takes tremendous emotional energy to feel it.
Speaking of which, I'm guessing it must have taken a lot from you to offer this post to us. I'm really holding that, with gratitude and respect. I'm also feeling gratitude that your trans child has you and your spouse to support them as they grow. Wow. 🩵🩷🤍🏳️⚧️🩵🩷🤍
So great to see you "in action" Robin - ironic that the post is about pictures, which often don't capture the real us. We are moving, changing, feeling, talking creatures, not cardboard cutouts - this was a great chance for us to see the real you - or as close to real as we can get. 💜
Robin, First, I want to agree with other commenters regarding how wonderful it is to watch you read this very personal piece.
There is clearly discomfort in your words, questioning and I suspect some level of not being entirely prepared for these images to be so complicated.
I have those pictures and at times, it’s disorienting for me to know that I lived that life. Those pictures were of me but a version of me that was stilted and edited and so incomplete.
I just underwent FFS and people ask what I think when I see myself in the mirror now after 60+ years of seeing “someone else.” I suspect they’re imagining themselves finding the experience disorienting. I actually find looking at myself now to be calming. It’s the looking back at the person I used to present as that can be disorienting.
Thank you for capturing your experience with such honesty and vulnerability.
For me, what I feel depends greatly on who is sharing the photo, why they are doing so, and if the photo a rare one of me getting to look a bit like myself and in a candid moment of happiness or (the much more often) a staged photo op that one or both of my narcissistic parents demanded and orchestrated to show off an afab that they saw as their property.
When my birth parents (was never adopted or removed, but that's how I refer to them) "share" photos of me with others they make it very clear their reason for showing them is the same reason they took them: to "prove" that they and tget alone will always own my narrative, to lie and repeat the message that "we took these (staged: they constantly omit that piece) photos of you as a child and you are smiling so you were never angry or sad - it's proof you're a liar" without having to say it out loud (even though on many occasion they have said it out loud), and to bully me into saying what they wish was the truth. They never wanted a trans child and "worked so hard" to make sure neither me or my siblings "ever turned out wrong", so how DARE I say that I was always trans. It is worth mentioning that every single time they have done this they deliberately pick photos where they had forced me into ridiculously prissy looking outfits and that those where I am smiling (in many, I look depressed af because I couldn't hide it anymore that day and they punished me cruelly for the lack of smiling after) 1 of 2 things was always happening: 1) they were forcing me to smile or 2) they accidentally caught a brief moment where I had comforted myself into forgetting what I was wearing, how my head felt covered in heavy and itchy weeds (they forced us to have long hair down to our waists), and how my body was betraying me and I was pretending instead that I was in the body I knew I was meant for (and that was making me feel overjoyed - to have my dream feel so close to being real).
When my Chosen Family shares childhood photos of me, it is always ones where we are together and I am genuinely smiling because I feel happy to be close to them - so happy that I again forget how much me is trapped. That's how close those members of my Chosen Family were with me as a child: they not only let me act like myself always around them but knew me so well that they could feel when I was purely joyful and were aware how different my "give the parents what they demand smile."
When I find the smaller # photos there are of me that capture myself - wearing my hair slicked back, (self-haircut) made to look like a boy's cut in front even though the rest was still long and tucked behind me, or stuffed underneath a cap, in shorts and unshared legs or in baggy jeans, and wearing an oversized t-shirt - smiling ear to ear because my parents were nowhere in sight and I didn't have to pretend for anyone for at least a few hours, I cry from joy. Even without those photos, I do still know the truth. But to hold and see the proof in my hand - that I was always there, still existing even though I wasn't permitted to live, and desperate to breathe, to escape, to BE - it's moving on an entirely different level. When I escaped my birth parents' house, I didn't have time to take much. So it's been about 7 years since I last held any of those pictures in my hands. I do have digital copies, but I am positive that after my birth parents found out that I was out and proud they burned every one of those photographs.
There are a lot of reasons I will never step foot in that house again. It was where my birth mother called me horrible names thousands of different times without apology, where she and her husband (yes, my birth father) screamed hundreds of times in my face, where they both threatened and blackmailed me multiple times, where my birth mother told me to my face and in front of other relatives that she was "certain" I was "POSSESSED BY THE DEVIL - A WITCH!!!", and where my birth father physically assaulted me three different times. Those 2 adults were bigger bullies to me than any kid in school ever was - even if I added up all my school bullies out together from grades K thru 12.
And after other relatives confirmed to them that I was out, these 2 asshats went out of their way to have more of their staged photos in the most pollyana dresses and poses (which they demanded) possible BLOWN UP TO OFFENSIVE SIZES and mounted on the walls.
Relatives who are NOT in my Chosen Family still have no understanding at all of why this hurts, and they ask why don't I go see them and take new pictures then. The answer to that one is very simple, "They don't deserve that. And I don't deserve to be re-traumituzed by pretending that would be a joyful experience. It wouldn't be. It would be hell. And I am fucking through hiding, pretending, and sugarcoating anything for these bullies."
Kris, thank you for sharing all of this. The difference between how our birth families view us and how our chosen families see the real us can be incredibly profound. I’m so sorry you’ve been through such cruelty with people who should have loved you as you are. But I’m also glad that you can share this as it helps all of us see just how harmful some behaviors can be for trans people, especially when our needs are disregarded.
Thank you. I apologize for the typos, but yes I do hope that parents who are trying to show genuine support for their trans children can take positive lessons away from this. One of my favorite motivational speakers and coaches is Dr. Lulu. She works with many such parents across multiple platforms to learn and practice more about providing supports for their trans children (at all ages).
Robin, this felt incredibly generous. Listening to you, seeing you on screen as you shared, I felt invited into the vulnerability of your visibility. And I felt deep gratitude for what I can only imagine was a teachable moment for anyone who has not heard a trans person share an experience like this. I learn, too, from hearing you, friend. And I'm truly grateful for the whole of you.
You know that feeling of a vulnerability hangover? That hit me repeatedly creating this post. Which is how I knew it was significant for me just as much as for anyone else who finds it.
Just thinking out loud - we are all a mixture of the past selves we have been - it is part of being human. I suppose I do not feel as if I have a fixed "self" - I experience myself as fluid - both as a product of my physical health, my neurodiversity - my non binary bi self -
As for other people's holding on to old photographs - I think this has to be a personal decision, there is not going to be a good way or bad way to respond. This response might change over time too. The "old self" is a manifestation of who we are now. All aspects of who we are exist continually.
The first time I heard someone say that our gender could grow and change just like other aspects of us as humans, I was blown away. It was so simple and true I just hadn't seen it.
I think we can, if we want see ourselves as works of art like the sky - forever changing - we can choose, I think must recognise this is different for everyone. There are no “sides” right or wrong - there will be compromises as we all need to live as well as we can respectfully. With over 7 billion of us knocking about on this planet it is impossible for us all to agree - and I would not want to live in such a dry arid landscape
Robin, thank you. I wish this country were moving toward making your lives easier instead of where we are. And where the shitbirds want to take us.
For what it’s worth, I’ll be standing with and for you and your child and every other trans human forever.
Thank you again. Your honesty and vulnerability are seen and held in my heart. 🤍
Kate, your approach to kindness and community is the right way. As long as you're here, we have hope.
I really enjoyed listening to the video and reading along. I took down pictures of my trans family member at their request and I have some photos pre transition in a hidden file on my phone. I don’t look at them often but when I do I find it stranger to see the pre photos than the way I see them now in person. I’ve grown accustomed to that face and it feels more real than before.
Yeah, I find that fascinating. Maybe it's a little like watching a kid grow into an adult. We look back at pictures of them when they were young, and it's sometimes hard to connect that with the person we know now.
This was beautiful Robin, and what a treat to be able to watch you read your own words.
Thank you for sharing such an intimate part of your life with us. I must admit I had never given much thought to what would become of pictures of those who’ve transitioned… and you gave me so much to consider and muse about.
Thanks, friend. I'm glad this held meaning for you.
For me personally, I’ve found immense joy in using my rudimentary photoshop skills to re-gender some of my childhood photos. The kid in those photos didn’t know that being non-binary was an option, so going back in time and changing the past to give her that option she didn’t have feels really affirming. (It’s also a nice way to let my mom hang up old photos without cringing internally every time I see them.)
For people who don’t want the DIY option, there’s a trans woman named Andrea Carpenter who offers this as a professional service through her business, Gender Carpentry.
This is brilliant. I've seen some other trans folx show touched up photos of themselves from similar sources, and this is definitely a gift of modern photo apps (and artists like the one you mention).
Thank you for sharing this. You are doing so much good. Your story and others like this are what alter the social narrative.
Ps. The photo from your wedding day is beautiful but I would not have recognised the man I see on video from it.
Aoibhín, your compliment is really lovely. Thank you. And I agree, this is exactly how we change things.
As the parent of a trans child, I love you.
I love you too, Amy. Tell your kid how awesome they are for me please.
thank you for sharing so openly, with such vulnerability this aspect of you and your family's experience. it's become clear to me as i've progressed on my own journey my subconscious motivation - i used to hang photos of my father as a young man rather than those of myself...
Well that is fascinating.
You know, prior to transitioning I dreaded pictures of myself that made me look like my mother. Now, I find that I look a lot like my father, and it doesn't really bother me at all. It's pretty pleasing, in fact.
This was courageous and generous and so very relatable for me, Robin. Looking at photographs of myself pre-and-early transition is such a kaleidoscopic emotional experience. I suppose it's also a good barometer of where I'm at on any given day in terms of my dysphoria and my level of psycho-emotional integration. And of course, there's the landscape of transphobia, transmisia, and overall trans hysteria that factors in, too.
The impostor feelings you named are there for me, too, as is the preoccupation with how others might see me now if they see how I presented earlier in my life. That happens for me even when I tell others that I'm trans. It's hard to put words to what it feels like when I see even a subtle shift in someone's eyes, or a slight ripple of something in their face that belies their cognitive dissonance at the two separate, but valid realities of me. It's easier to name that it takes tremendous emotional energy to feel it.
Speaking of which, I'm guessing it must have taken a lot from you to offer this post to us. I'm really holding that, with gratitude and respect. I'm also feeling gratitude that your trans child has you and your spouse to support them as they grow. Wow. 🩵🩷🤍🏳️⚧️🩵🩷🤍
So great to see you "in action" Robin - ironic that the post is about pictures, which often don't capture the real us. We are moving, changing, feeling, talking creatures, not cardboard cutouts - this was a great chance for us to see the real you - or as close to real as we can get. 💜
Ha! Thanks, Troy. It's pretty nerve wracking to show up on video, but I'm glad it translated well.
Thank you for sharing this.
Thanks, Nancy.
Thank you for sharing yourself to us. Know that you are what you were always and are. You are loved.
Well that's a pretty awesome thing to say. Thank you!
Robin, First, I want to agree with other commenters regarding how wonderful it is to watch you read this very personal piece.
There is clearly discomfort in your words, questioning and I suspect some level of not being entirely prepared for these images to be so complicated.
I have those pictures and at times, it’s disorienting for me to know that I lived that life. Those pictures were of me but a version of me that was stilted and edited and so incomplete.
I just underwent FFS and people ask what I think when I see myself in the mirror now after 60+ years of seeing “someone else.” I suspect they’re imagining themselves finding the experience disorienting. I actually find looking at myself now to be calming. It’s the looking back at the person I used to present as that can be disorienting.
Thank you for capturing your experience with such honesty and vulnerability.
For me, what I feel depends greatly on who is sharing the photo, why they are doing so, and if the photo a rare one of me getting to look a bit like myself and in a candid moment of happiness or (the much more often) a staged photo op that one or both of my narcissistic parents demanded and orchestrated to show off an afab that they saw as their property.
When my birth parents (was never adopted or removed, but that's how I refer to them) "share" photos of me with others they make it very clear their reason for showing them is the same reason they took them: to "prove" that they and tget alone will always own my narrative, to lie and repeat the message that "we took these (staged: they constantly omit that piece) photos of you as a child and you are smiling so you were never angry or sad - it's proof you're a liar" without having to say it out loud (even though on many occasion they have said it out loud), and to bully me into saying what they wish was the truth. They never wanted a trans child and "worked so hard" to make sure neither me or my siblings "ever turned out wrong", so how DARE I say that I was always trans. It is worth mentioning that every single time they have done this they deliberately pick photos where they had forced me into ridiculously prissy looking outfits and that those where I am smiling (in many, I look depressed af because I couldn't hide it anymore that day and they punished me cruelly for the lack of smiling after) 1 of 2 things was always happening: 1) they were forcing me to smile or 2) they accidentally caught a brief moment where I had comforted myself into forgetting what I was wearing, how my head felt covered in heavy and itchy weeds (they forced us to have long hair down to our waists), and how my body was betraying me and I was pretending instead that I was in the body I knew I was meant for (and that was making me feel overjoyed - to have my dream feel so close to being real).
When my Chosen Family shares childhood photos of me, it is always ones where we are together and I am genuinely smiling because I feel happy to be close to them - so happy that I again forget how much me is trapped. That's how close those members of my Chosen Family were with me as a child: they not only let me act like myself always around them but knew me so well that they could feel when I was purely joyful and were aware how different my "give the parents what they demand smile."
When I find the smaller # photos there are of me that capture myself - wearing my hair slicked back, (self-haircut) made to look like a boy's cut in front even though the rest was still long and tucked behind me, or stuffed underneath a cap, in shorts and unshared legs or in baggy jeans, and wearing an oversized t-shirt - smiling ear to ear because my parents were nowhere in sight and I didn't have to pretend for anyone for at least a few hours, I cry from joy. Even without those photos, I do still know the truth. But to hold and see the proof in my hand - that I was always there, still existing even though I wasn't permitted to live, and desperate to breathe, to escape, to BE - it's moving on an entirely different level. When I escaped my birth parents' house, I didn't have time to take much. So it's been about 7 years since I last held any of those pictures in my hands. I do have digital copies, but I am positive that after my birth parents found out that I was out and proud they burned every one of those photographs.
There are a lot of reasons I will never step foot in that house again. It was where my birth mother called me horrible names thousands of different times without apology, where she and her husband (yes, my birth father) screamed hundreds of times in my face, where they both threatened and blackmailed me multiple times, where my birth mother told me to my face and in front of other relatives that she was "certain" I was "POSSESSED BY THE DEVIL - A WITCH!!!", and where my birth father physically assaulted me three different times. Those 2 adults were bigger bullies to me than any kid in school ever was - even if I added up all my school bullies out together from grades K thru 12.
And after other relatives confirmed to them that I was out, these 2 asshats went out of their way to have more of their staged photos in the most pollyana dresses and poses (which they demanded) possible BLOWN UP TO OFFENSIVE SIZES and mounted on the walls.
Relatives who are NOT in my Chosen Family still have no understanding at all of why this hurts, and they ask why don't I go see them and take new pictures then. The answer to that one is very simple, "They don't deserve that. And I don't deserve to be re-traumituzed by pretending that would be a joyful experience. It wouldn't be. It would be hell. And I am fucking through hiding, pretending, and sugarcoating anything for these bullies."
Kris, thank you for sharing all of this. The difference between how our birth families view us and how our chosen families see the real us can be incredibly profound. I’m so sorry you’ve been through such cruelty with people who should have loved you as you are. But I’m also glad that you can share this as it helps all of us see just how harmful some behaviors can be for trans people, especially when our needs are disregarded.
Thank you. I apologize for the typos, but yes I do hope that parents who are trying to show genuine support for their trans children can take positive lessons away from this. One of my favorite motivational speakers and coaches is Dr. Lulu. She works with many such parents across multiple platforms to learn and practice more about providing supports for their trans children (at all ages).
Robin, thank you. You demonstrate such generosity here in the written post, the photo, and especially the video. I’m so very thankful.
Wendy, I'm very thankful for you as well. ❤️
Robin, this felt incredibly generous. Listening to you, seeing you on screen as you shared, I felt invited into the vulnerability of your visibility. And I felt deep gratitude for what I can only imagine was a teachable moment for anyone who has not heard a trans person share an experience like this. I learn, too, from hearing you, friend. And I'm truly grateful for the whole of you.
You know that feeling of a vulnerability hangover? That hit me repeatedly creating this post. Which is how I knew it was significant for me just as much as for anyone else who finds it.
I do know that feeling. And I see your courage.
Just thinking out loud - we are all a mixture of the past selves we have been - it is part of being human. I suppose I do not feel as if I have a fixed "self" - I experience myself as fluid - both as a product of my physical health, my neurodiversity - my non binary bi self -
As for other people's holding on to old photographs - I think this has to be a personal decision, there is not going to be a good way or bad way to respond. This response might change over time too. The "old self" is a manifestation of who we are now. All aspects of who we are exist continually.
The first time I heard someone say that our gender could grow and change just like other aspects of us as humans, I was blown away. It was so simple and true I just hadn't seen it.
I think we can, if we want see ourselves as works of art like the sky - forever changing - we can choose, I think must recognise this is different for everyone. There are no “sides” right or wrong - there will be compromises as we all need to live as well as we can respectfully. With over 7 billion of us knocking about on this planet it is impossible for us all to agree - and I would not want to live in such a dry arid landscape