July 2022. I’m going to the beach. It may seem trivial, but for me who is shaking right now, it’s something else.
Alongside my boyfriend, cold sweats run down my back. I bite the inside of my bottom lip. It leaves a metallic taste in my mouth. I’m wearing baggy black pants and a one-piece swimsuit that I bought in a fit of excitement. In the distance, the noise of people having fun. In a few minutes, I will have to take off my pants to swim. How I envy the ease of my boyfriend who doesn’t ask himself the questions I ask myself. I know that a body like mine can raise questions. Dozens of eyes will examine me. I try the technique of ” tucking (which consists of flattening the protrusion of my penis, a practice often practiced by trans women or cisgender men who do drag queen shows) unfortunately this method is never without pain for me.
In a few minutes, for the first time in my life, I’m going to swim with the protuberance of my sex showing through my swimsuit. I voluntarily challenged myself. I hear neither the birds nor the laughter of children chasing each other. My heart is pounding. I want to turn back, to scamper like a gazelle chased by a lion. Although in my life there have been gazes filled with sweetness on me, today I think of those filled with hatred that have imprinted themselves for years and that make me hypervigilant right now. How I wish the fact of being thirty-two allowed me to lower my lids on those inflamed eyes that burned me so much.
My boyfriend, noticing that I’m frozen on the beach, comes closer to me and takes my hand. ” Did you ever think that if people look at you, maybe it’s because they find you beautiful? I immediately regain my senses, moved to have never thought like this.
Nobody knows that today a trans woman is diving into the water at the same time as into her new life. A life away from shame.
Nobody knows that, earlier, this woman had to lie down on the floor of her living room by force, waiting for the truck of anguish to finish rolling over her. In a panic, she managed to say, “I can’t fall any lower, the floor is supporting me. Through her tears, she managed to find a compassionate smile for her, open the door and join her boyfriend.
Yes, a trans woman swims alongside someone who loves her for who she is. And we’ll see more and more of that since every body is a beach worthy body and that should never be questionable. The more we see varied bodies, the more we will see the beauty in this diversity.
I’m not immune to moments when I’m going to turn back, but I have to remember that the beach won’t run away, that it’s waiting for me in all the fairness of its sand.
It’s Pride week in Montreal, and it’s a perfect opportunity to remember, in the heart of this summer, that when we see a trans person on a beach, we have to tell ourselves that they have probably spent a whole morning, maybe even a week, dreading this day, questioning her right to have a slice of the sun too.
The rights of 2SLGBTQIA+ people are unfortunately fragile, threatened in several countries; our identities are constantly challenged. It’s a Saturday like the sun knows so well. It’s also perfect for remembering that a trans person dipping their feet in the sand is an act of revolution in itself.