Parker Robb’s Coming Out Story

Hindsight is 20/20 – a cliche, but for me, it is true. There are many parts about my coming out story that are “typical” of the trans narrative. I was a tomboy as a child. I experienced extreme distress surrounding wearing feminine clothing. I attributed my masculinity to my “gayness”, and identified as gay for many years, etc.

“I never felt as though there was a boy trapped somewhere within me”

But among all of these “typical red-flags”, there were many ways in which I also strayed from the narrative. I always loved to have my hair long, I embraced many of my “feminine” attributes, and perhaps most importantly – I never felt as though there was a boy trapped somewhere within me. 

Growing up, there were hardly any representations of trans people in the media. I can recall one, maybe two instances of trans people portrayed on television, and in every case they were played by a cis actor, and often told the tragic story of a “freak” who never quite fit in.

“I chose to turn a blind eye and continue living as I was”

Accordingly, I barely even knew trans people existed, and my only impressions of them were very negative. It is safe to say that my understanding was not only entirely misguided, but also extremely limited. Personally, I didn’t want to see myself in these tragic narratives, so I chose to turn a blind eye and continue living as I was. 

It wasn’t until my second year of university that I began to really struggle with my gender. I landed a co-op position in a professional (and very cis-heteronormative) setting, and this would be the first time that I would be forced to wear feminine business-casual clothes.

I expected it to be somewhat uncomfortable for me, as I was used to wearing masculine skate-branded clothing. But the discomfort I experienced in those 8 months was much worse than anything I could have predicted. This was when I began to really dig deeper into how I was feeling and why. 

“the existence of non-binary people in mainstream media was minimal at best”

Although this was only less than 5 years ago, the existence of non-binary people in mainstream media was minimal at best. I spent hours researching different explanations as to why I was feeling the way I was, and the vast majority of them told me that I was likely trans. At this point, I knew a bit more about trans people than I did in highschool, so this explanation didn’t carry the same “doomsday” feeling that it once had.

I began asking my friends to use gender neutral pronouns for me as an attempt to distance myself from femininity. I also took the time to follow nearly every trans guy I could possibly find on Instagram, and after months of feeling entirely jealous of their changes, I decided that hormone replacement therapy (HRT) was a route that I needed to explore. 

“there was one empty box glaring back at me: I still didnt feel like a boy deep down”

Throughout all of this, I still had that nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something was missing. Despite all of the checkmarks on the “are you trans?” list, there was one empty box glaring back at me: I still didnt feel like a boy deep down. All I knew was that I was extremely unhappy in my body, I hated that society viewed me as a girl, and I needed to do something about it.

I also knew that having my friends use gender neutral pronouns for me (they/them/theirs) made me feel more at home in my identity than I had ever felt before. A shift towards testosterone meant a shift away from being perceived as a girl, and that was a good enough reason for me to pursue HRT. 

I’ve been told by fellow trans people that I seemed to do things backwards. In a sense, they are right. Many trans people realize that their gender is different than what society perceives it to be, and they use medical intervention to align their body to how they feel on the inside. Instead, I used HRT in the hopes that it would help me figure out my gender. I knew I wasn’t a girl, but that’s about all I knew.

“for the first time I can finally speak about my gender in a confident way”

Thankfully, as time passed and changes began to happen on testosterone, I began to feel more at home in my body. Interestingly, I also began to see clearly that I was right all along: I am not a man. I am non-binary. Although things have shifted to the other end of the spectrum, and society now sees me as a man, for the first time I can finally speak about my gender in a confident way. 

Figuring out my non-binary identity was difficult. Nonbinary people are hardly represented in the media, and even when they are, there is no “right” way to be nonbinary. The word “nonbinary” holds a beautifully unique meaning for each and every person who proudly claims the title. My hope is that in the coming years, non-binary people will be represented in many different ways, making it easier for folks like me to navigate their journey.