I came out as nonbinary when I was 16 years old. It was October 2019, I was in high school, I had just met an openly trans person for the first time in my life. Their discussions about gender dysphoria really resonated with me. I told them that, and they said that can't be true because I'm a girl.

I layered two bras over my chest, and put on a baggy t-shirt late at night after the house was asleep. I was not a girl for very much longer. I was not a girl, and I was scared. When I came out to my parents, I taped a letter to my bedroom door, closed it, and ran into the woods without telling anybody. I got a text about 15 minutes later, saying that it was better I wasn't home to see my dad's initial reaction.

The letter was full of apologies, from what I remember. I haven't exactly read it since. Pleading insistance that I swear I'm still the same person, I don't even want to physically transition in any way, let alone change my name. I approached the whole thing carefully, fully aware that my parents who loved me so much were "losing" their daughter. I swore that they didn't even have to change how they referred to me (though, being their child instead of their daughter would be nice!), I just wanted to tell them about my feelings.

I'll spare the details of the aftermath. The arguments, the inevitable fallout when I did decide to finally pursue top surgery (and then, years later, testosterone). The whole world locked down due to COVID not too long after, and as soon as the lockdowns lifted I set out to get a job so that I could pay for top surgery (and get out of the house). When I started that job at a particular big-box department store, I was extremely open about my identity.

It was a different time, even though it was only six years ago! My new manager asked me how I'd like to be referred to. The generally conservative but well-meaning store owner held an all-hands meeting to explain to my coworkers that even though I was different and transgender, they all had to be as respectful as possible. I was still a baby gay, and despite how self-minimizing and apologetic my coming-out letter was, I was very enthusiastic about correcting people on my pronouns.

And then, somewhere along the line, the enthusiasm wavered. Maybe it was after getting laughed at by a customer for the 100th time, or maybe it was after another car ride where I was berated for making my life harder than it had to be. Maybe it was when I went back to in-person classes, and my peers loudly talked about wanting to shoot all the communists and dykes when I rode the bus. Maybe I just got tired of explaining how they/them pronouns work to yet another healthcare worker, or teacher, or coworker. Maybe I realized that by asking people to respect my pronouns, they suddenly thought I would want to discuss my genital or hormonal situation.

Luckily, getting top surgery made the social dysphoria of it all dull its edge a bit. I liked my body more, I was finally comfortable and also damn proud of myself, so I didn't need the external validation from strangers to feel like I was real. And I'm happy to say that now, my parents are much better allies. I don't talk to most of my extended family anymore, but the ones I do talk to are very supportive. I got top surgery almost 5 years ago, and started testosterone almost 4 years ago, and it's all very... easy, now.

But I still don't correct people about my pronouns.

There's a handful of reasons for this. While I'm firmly nonbinary and love they/them pronouns, I also know that trans rights have sort of fallen apart in the United States. I'm never going to 'pass' as nonbinary, which is fine, but it also means that well-meaning but uninformed strangers simply cannot gender me correctly first try. My coworkers are kind, but they are not the type that will ask pronouns or avoid assuming gender. It's not 2019 anymore, public messaging encouraging gender inclusivity has been basically outlawed.

When I was looking for a job, I'd become whatever gender employers wanted. I still dressed generally androgynously, but if someone assumed I was a man or a woman I'd just agree. Yes, I'm a nice young man. Yes, I'm an ambitious young woman. Yes, I need a job. Because of testosterone deepening my voice, I was read for a man a little over half the time - though almost certainly an extremely gay man, because I haven't put any work into adjusting my mannerisms or inflection (nor do I want to).

Now I have a full-time job. I work at a European company that still advertises diversity and inclusion in its messaging. I'm not closeted by any means, my coworkers almost certainly know I'm queer. But I don't say anything. I let people assume what they want. I'm still scared, honestly, even if the dysphoria isn't as bad.

I doubt anybody will threaten to kill me or anything like that. My coworkers are generally very kind and well-meaning people. But I know now, through years of experience, that asking people to use my pronouns will just be a headache. I wish it wasn't. But there's only so many long drawn-out apologies, invasive questions, snide remarks and awkward tip-toeing I can deal with. Plus, there's no gender-neutral bathroom.

I just wish for a world where so many people wear pronoun pins that it's not an invitation for interrogation. I wish that we lived in a world where I could introduce myself as "Jay, and I use they/them" and it wouldn't be a whole Thing. I wish the bathrooms were gender netural, so I didn't have to do 4d chess trying to figure out what gender the majority of people in the office see me as. I wish I could finally get rid of the heavy, sad blanket that being misgendered constantly creates. And honestly, I wish I still had that argumentative streak I had in high school.

Teenage Jay got into a lot of arguments about their pronouns. They'd loudly, and openly, and obviously correct people, no matter the context, just as if their conversation partner had mispronounced their name. Teenage Jay had the impulse all but beaten out of them by a society that sees their identity as a frivolous game played by weird kids with not enough hardship in their lives.

For now, I still try to be brave in other ways. My hair is bright red again, even though my last boss made a lot of nasty comments when I dyed it a bright color. I talk openly about my girlfriend, even though so many people still read me as a woman.

And I found an option, hidden behind three menus that not even HR knew about, to add my pronouns to my email signature. I selected the correct option, but I won't tell anybody directly. It's all I can do for now.

♥Jay (they/them)