Why Does My Existence Scare You?

Trying to Understand Anti-Trans Perspectives

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, mostly about trying to understand the conservative anti-trans perspective. Honestly, I find this nearly impossible—I struggle to grasp how they think or why they believe the things they do.

To me, they seem closed off, unwilling to open themselves to new information or experiences. This feels like an extremely limited way to live, almost the antithesis of what life is meant to be. Life, by its very nature, is about adapting, growing, and changing. Yet, many conservative beliefs, which fuel anti-trans sentiments, seem to resist this growth at all costs. Why? I don’t know.

We often call these beliefs "transphobia." But is it really fear? Or is it hate? Maybe it’s both. Fear does often breed hate. And I understand that no one likes to admit they’re afraid—fear feels like weakness. But if it is fear, what are they so afraid of? Why would someone fear another person’s ability to grow, change, or be themselves?

These are the questions that keep circling in my mind, unanswered.

Fear and the Refusal to Learn

I sometimes think the root of this fear is a lack of knowledge about trans people. But why would there be such a lack of knowledge when so much information is available? There’s an entire wealth of research on gender dysphoria, on the difference between physical sex and gender identity, on how our identities are shaped. Science is clear: gender is not binary, and life itself exists on a spectrum.

And yet, some people seem to resist learning. Maybe it’s because learning means changing, and change can be uncomfortable. Fear of change is deeply human, I suppose. Growing pains are real, but the rewards of growth—of understanding ourselves and others—far outweigh the discomfort. Still, many cling to their fears, their old assumptions, and the misinformation that reinforces them.

When faced with this resistance, I wonder: how can we educate a closed mind? How do you reach someone who refuses to listen?

The Power of Sharing My Story

I often feel it’s not my job to educate others. And yet, they won’t educate themselves. So, the only method I have left to confront transphobia is to share my story—who I am and what it means to be trans.

Here’s the truth: I am not so different from anyone else. I wake up groggy, force myself out of bed, work, eat, exercise, dream, and try to build a happy life. I have beliefs. I value science and learning, but I also believe in spirituality. My life may differ in details from others, but at its core, it’s ordinary.

The only real difference is that I was born with genitalia that didn’t match my identity. That’s it. A doctor—a perfect stranger—looked at me the day I was born and assigned a label, a gender marker, without knowing a thing about who I would become. And as I grew, I realized that assignment didn’t fit me.

Why does this one difference inspire so much fear and hate? Why should it matter to anyone if I corrected my body to align with my identity?

Why the Gender Marker Matters

Let’s talk about that tiny little marker on an ID—M, F, or sometimes X. For most people, it’s meaningless. They rarely think about it. But for trans people, that one letter can mean everything.

For years—decades even—many of us have lived with IDs that didn’t match who we are. Those letters became chains, tethering us to a life we didn’t understand and often hated. It was a daily reminder of being forced into roles that didn’t align with our true selves.

Cisgender people might not fully grasp this, so I ask you to imagine: what if every day you woke up hating your body, hating how others perceived you, and having to bury that hatred deep inside because society told you it was all in your head? Imagine being told you were crazy, that your feelings didn’t matter. Think about waking up every morning with but one dream, one wish - to have the life and body that match your identity and having that dream dashed every single day. Try to imagine forcing yourself into gender stereotypical roles that are completely opposite from your idendity. Forcing yourself to accept the judgement of those around you that you are only seeking attention. And then realize that the stupid little letter on Id is a constant reminder of that struggle. Then, imagine receiving a new ID with a letter that finally matched who you truly are. For the first time in your life, you felt free.

Now imagine having to give that up.

This is what many trans people are facing now: governments pushing to revoke our right to self-identify. That one little letter, so small and meaningless to most, can be life-saving for us. And yet, there are those who want to strip it away, forcing us back into cages we fought so hard to escape.

Why the Fear?

Why do people want to punish us further? We’ve already endured so much—years of self-loathing, judgment from society, and battles with our own bodies. Why inflict more pain? Why deny us the freedom to simply be who we are?

Fear seems to be the answer. But fear of what? Trans people existing? Sharing restrooms? Living ordinary lives? If they could step back and look at us—not through the lens of their fear, but as fellow humans—they’d see we’re not so different.

A Spectrum of Life

Life isn’t binary. Nature isn’t binary. Physical sex characteristics exist on a spectrum, from male to female to intersex. Chromosomes aren’t binary either—there’s XX, XY, XXY, XYY, and countless variations. Identity isn’t fixed at birth but discovered over time.

Science is clear on this, but so many cling to the illusion of a simple binary world because it’s easier than facing complexity. Growth is hard, but it’s necessary. Life demands it.

Conclusion: Let Us Be

In the end, all we’re asking for is the freedom to live authentically, without fear or interference. That shouldn’t be controversial—it’s a basic human right.

We know ourselves better than anyone else. We know who we are. Why is that so difficult for others to accept?

To those who resist, I ask: isn’t it time to let go of fear? Isn’t it time to let us be?