Lucky

I'm one of the lucky ones.

I live in a time and place where, although it's not easy, it is possible for a transgender person to live a relatively peaceful existence.  As yet, there is no law prescribing jail time or the death penalty for being trans, though some of us are still condemned to death by individuals filled with fear and hatred.

I'm one of the lucky ones.  I have some family members that will still speak to me.  Many of my old friends still speak to me.  I have a church community that embraces me for who I am.  None of them have tried to harm me.

I'm one of the lucky ones.  I was able to keep my job.  Because of this, I can keep a roof over my head and food on my table.  I have employer-provided insurance and can afford to pay for medical care and medications.

I'm one of the lucky ones.  Because of genetically inherited traits, I can blend in reasonably well with other women.  I can use a public bathroom without putting myself in danger.  While I am regularly, though unintentionally, misgendered and occasionally deadnamed by people who knew me before transition, strangers use the correct pronouns.  No one shouts derogatory remarks at me when I'm walking down the street.

I'm one of the lucky ones.  I was born into a white, middle-class family, drastically reducing my chances of being harassed by the police and murdered for being trans, as well as having a much easier time getting an education and employment.

I'm one of the lucky ones.  I didn't do anything to deserve my luck, and sometimes I feel guilty about it.  My heart is heavy for all those who aren't so lucky.  The only thing I know to do is to try (and I often fall short) to help those who are less lucky.  We all deserve to live a life free from hate, fear, and deprivation.

I'm one of the lucky ones.  And I wonder how long my luck will last.