Published March 30, 2025

Creating Space for Trans Joy—And Rage

During my first Trans Day of Visibility after starting hormone replacement therapy, I’m feeling like being trans is such a gift.

“Trans Day of Visibility 2025” is a comic drawn with sketchy maroon linework colored in with yellow and purple backgrounds, evocative of the non-binary pride flag. The narration follows Teddie, the artist, and their thoughts about transness. Teddie is depicted as a white person with short brown hair and a masculine or butch fashion sense. In panel one, Teddie is standing in their bathroom. They share, “I’ve identified as non binary for almost a decade and have felt my gender non conforming for longer than that.” Panel two is an illustration of Teddie’s hand squirting gel out of a bottle. They think, “But this is my first year celebrating Trans Day of Visibility (TDOV) while on Hormone Replacement Therapy.” Panel three, Teddie applies the gel to their upper arm. Their caption reads, “I’m incredibly grateful for this gift—for my happiness around transition.” Panel four, Teddie pulls down the sleeve of their t-shirt, covering their arm and looking reflective. The caption reads, “A huge weight, a blanket of dread that seemed to cover my life previously, has been lifted.” Panel five shows Teddie washing their hands of any remaining gel. They think, “Despite that lightness, that joy, I’m scared and furious for my community, my trans friends and family, for all of us.” Panel six has Teddie drying their hands off, thinking, “Anti-transgender legislation is being passed in the United States at a mind-numbing speed.” Across panel eight and nine, Teddie ponders their complicated feelings while looking in the mirror, seeing both a happy and frustrated version of themselves staring back. The caption reads, “While we celebrate transgender lives today, it’s crucial to hold space for not just trans joy but to hold equal space for trans rage.”

The next panels show those heavy moments of trans rage. A candlelight vigil with a trans flag in the background, a difficult conversation with a friend who says “I took they/them out of my bio…” and a phone balanced on someone’s knees, being informed there are “no operators available” are all depicted. The narration reads: “Every time we mourn for our trans siblings who were taken too soon, every time someone goes back into the closet, every time someone alls the lifeline and no one picks up, I feel trans rage, trans grief.” The next panel shows Teddie lying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling sleeplessly. The caption shares, “Right before starting HRT, I would have nights where I couldn’t sleep, wondering if I could manage to postpone medically transitioning another four years…” Teddie thinks to themselves hopelessly, “...or forever?” The caption of the next panel reads, “I had my first inkling I’d eventually want HRT when I was a teenager during Trump’s first presidency.” Below is a drawing of teenage Teddie, sitting on the couch with a laptop, looking at Laurence Philomene’s Trans Gaze photographs on their computer. They see themselves reflected back in the faces of other trans and nonbinary people. The next panel reads, “But I swallowed that feeling down for years. Ultimately, I was choking on dread—I couldn’t do it again.” Teddie here is depicted in a spiral of distress and dread. They can’t keep going the way they’re going at this point. The next panel reads, “I tried to imagine myself as a cis person, but it felt pointless. I’m a gender-freak through and through.” The image in the panel shows a TSA agent pulls Teddie aside, telling them, “We’ll need to pat down your crotch area.” Teddie looks irritated but not surprised, thinking to themselves, “I’m sure you do.”

Cutting back to the present moment, Teddie’s caption shares, “I’m not politically optimistic. Things have gotten much worse in a short period of time.” Teddie is shown walking in their apartment, looking at news on their phone that says: “Texas Bill 3399 aims to ban gender affirming care for adults.” In the foreground, a stack of posters that say “Protect and Defend Trans Lives” lie on the table. The next panel reads, “But those feelings are contrasted with my sudden love for my life and my body.” Teddie looks in the mirror and, similar to when they were looking at those photographs as a teenager, really sees themselves reflected back. They smile. Teddie thinks, “I’m overwhelmed by this freedom—I am the person in control of my body!” They hold their hand to their heart, feeling like they’re at home. Narration shares, “I get to decide what feels happy and healthy for myself.” Teddie walks through the park, a spring in their step. Teddie approaches a sign pole in their neighborhood. The caption reads, “Bodily autonomy is a feeling worth fighting for—” The caption continues: “—worth harnessing all the trans joy and rage to protect and defend.” We see Teddie staple a poster to the pole with a staple gun. In the last panel, we see Teddie standing next to the sign pole with the poster “Protect and Defend Trans Lives” displaying behind them. They speak directly to the audience in the final moment of the comic, saying, “Happy Trans Day of Visibility.”

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