Transphobia can be deadly. Delaying reform of the Gender Recognition Act will only lead to more hate

Almost half of transgender people in Britain have attempted to take their own lives. If people could only see the human side of the debate, it would be a very different discussion

It was 2018 and I was 19 years old. I had only come out a few months before and was lucky enough to have supportive family and friends. I felt hopeful about my future for the first time in my life. All it took was one Facebook post for that hope to go up in flames. A transgender person I knew had committed suicide.

I try not to talk about him too much because I had only met him a few times – but there are some people you meet who just stick in your memory. It’s odd how, despite not really knowing him, I still find myself stuck in a constant cycle of grief. Part of this is because of the realisation that he would not be the only transgender person I’d lose to suicide in my life. Almost half of transgender people in Britain have attempted to take their own lives, and 84 per cent have had suicidal thoughts. His death was not an isolated tragedy.

Over the past few years there has been a staggering increase in transphobia within the UK. Part of this is due to the Gender Recognition Act consultation in 2018. The GRA allows transgender people to have their gender legally recognised and changed on their birth certificate. The current process is dehumanising, expensive and time-consuming. The current consultation and reform of the law is aimed at streamlining this process, but there’s been significant transphobic backlash due to rampant misinformation surrounding the issue. This is most likely one of the reasons behind the 81 per cent increase in hate crimes against transgender people in 2019.

Last autumn, when my student union held a vigil for the Transgender Day of Remembrance, we wrote the names of every trans person who was reported as murdered from November 2018 to November 2019 on banners. Even though the list does not include those who committed suicide, it still took us around six hours to write all 331 names. The vast majority of those killed were transgender women of colour, and the youngest person on the list was Kate Maikelly de Jesus Barbosa, who was only 14 years old. I had to leave the room after reading that.

I don’t blame anyone for believing transphobic narratives. When that’s all you see in the media and when there is so little education about what it means to be transgender, of course people are going to believe what is being said. We’re afraid of what we don’t understand, and this leads to mistrust. The first step to overcoming that mistrust is to be willing to listen to what transgender people are saying.

Here’s what I say: I want to be able to get married and to legally be a husband. I want my children’s birth certificates to have me recorded as their father. I want to be able to die with dignity. Most importantly, I want my community to be safe.

Everyone can agree that no one deserves to suffer because of who they are. Being transgender is not a choice – but choosing to allow ourselves to be comfortable in our own bodies and not subject ourselves to hatred and suffering is. That is something that should be celebrated.

Fundamentally, this is about our rights to respect and dignity. When we’re subjected to invasive and irrelevant questions to access gender affirming healthcare, when we’re buried under the wrong name and gender, we’re stripped of our humanity. Transgender people are just people. By framing our lives as a debate, we are stripped of our voices, objectified by the public gaze, reduced to the spectacle that our bodies have become.

I’m terrified about the announcement about whether the GRA will be reformed and exhausted by the delays and continuous debate about our rights. I shouldn’t have to live in constant fear that I’ll lose another friend. I should be able to be a normal 21-year-old figuring out how to be an adult. Instead, I’m navigating a political minefield of grief, anger and exhaustion. I speak up about trans rights not for the sake of an “agenda”, but because I don’t want anyone else to go through what I have.

Two years since he passed, and I still think about him every day. It hurts because he should still be alive. He deserved so much, but his life was cut short because of forces outside his control. Transphobia is real, and it is deadly. If people could only see the human side of the debate about our lives, I think it would be a very different discussion. We just want to live in peace.

But despite everything, I’m still hopeful. I’m inspired by my friends who fight for trans rights and the way we uplift and support each other. I look up to trans elders, who have paved the way for us and are the backbone of our community. Every time I see a trans child my heart bursts with joy because they get to have a real childhood. I thank the parents who listen to their children and love them unconditionally. Most of all, I’m grateful to still be alive.

Ray Everall is a 21-year-old student from West London who advocates for the equality of trans people in the UK

If you are experiencing feelings of distress and isolation, or are struggling to cope, The Samaritans offers support; you can speak to someone for free over the phone, in confidence, on 116 123 (UK and ROI), email jo@samaritans.org, or visit the Samaritans website to find details of your nearest branch.

If you are based in the USA, and you or someone you know needs mental health assistance right now, call National Suicide Prevention Helpline on 1-800-273-TALK (8255). The Helpline is a free, confidential crisis hotline that is available to everyone 24 hours a day, seven days a week.