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Guest post from an upcoming anthology on how to be an ally

Suzanne DeWitt Hall
May 12
5 min read

We're posting something a bit different today. It's an essay written by transmasculine author Rowan Murphy about actions of allyship which made a difference in his life. This piece and others like it will be published in an upcoming anthology with a working title of How to Ally. Check back soon for more entries like it.

Allyship Done Right

I spent most of my life hiding. Not just from others, or from society, but from myself. By the time I reached my mid-forties, I knew something had to change. My already weakened sense of self had eroded completely and I was only defining myself in relation to other people and what I meant to them (I was a parent, spouse, employee, etc.). After a long and painful journey of self-discovery and identity transformation, I emerged much stronger. I felt empowered to own all the facets of myself that I had discovered, and I finally came out as a gay transgender man in 2022.

The moment I started my medical transition, life became bright and colorful, my confidence grew, and my mental health issues all but disappeared. I was done hiding. Unfortunately, the social and political climate had started to turn, just as I was finally, for the first time, feeling at home in my own skin. I no longer hated what I saw in the mirror. I enjoyed moving my body, walking down the street with my head held high.

Coming out to friends was a mixed experience; some were very supportive and respectful, but others would ask the strangest and most intrusive questions, ostensibly thinking that was okay. I had a small group of online friends who were instrumental in my journey, offering unwavering support and great advice, but I missed having a local community and ways to connect in person. Then I met my good friend George, about a year ago. He’s a little older than me, lives in a city not too far from mine, and he’s gay. We bonded over an LGBT+ TV show, both of us avid fans.

At first, I was a bit worried about opening up to him about my experience as a trans man who only started living his truth recently, at an age where most people have themselves figured out. I had been watching developments in the US closely, noting the ever-growing amount of anti-trans bills being proposed across the country. It became clear that people were emboldened by the increasingly hostile and degrading rhetoric, and the types of comments that would have previously been unacceptable seemed to become almost commonplace. I noticed that even within the LGBTQ community some folks were transphobic, and made no effort to hide it anymore.

It turned out that my concerns were unwarranted. George was an amazing friend; he shared his own experiences of growing up in a mostly homophobic era, dealing with bullies, witnessing the AIDS crisis in the 80’s, and he wanted to learn more about my journey. I felt like I could open up without fear of judgment. His curiosity was rooted in kindness and the desire to really get to know me, and to better understand the trans community. He didn’t ask intrusive questions like so many others, but gave me a safe space to share as much as I was comfortable with.

We bonded over shared experiences, and he was amazed at the amount of misinformation being spread by politicians and the media as it relates to gender affirming care. George wanted to learn, to be more informed, to understand the truth behind the sensationalist headlines. We talked about trans youth, about what treatment options actually are available. Spoiler alert: gender affirming surgeries don’t actually happen on minors. There might be exceptions in the intersex community, but that is a different matter entirely. I explained to him how puberty blockers work, and that they essentially just delay puberty, not stop it altogether. I explained that even some of the changes brought on by actual hormone therapy are reversible, and described the euphoria I felt after starting hormone therapy at 51. He was genuinely happy to share in my joy.

George’s open-mindedness and unfaltering support made me feel safe enough to talk about more private aspects of my transition, such as the surgeries I’d gone through and ones I was still considering, and about my fears of finding a partner in a generation of gay men who aren’t as likely to accept a trans male partner. He started researching things on his own, encouraging me through some difficult times, and validating my fears rather than brushing them off. He made me feel heard and seen, and offered suggestions to help me focus on the path forward when I felt stuck.

As the political environment grew more hostile, with hateful anti-trans rhetoric rife on the campaign trail, I became increasingly concerned. Many people would tell me I was overreacting – even after the election results were announced. I’ve been wanting to leave the US for many years, because I never really felt at home here, and these trends further reinforced my wish to leave. I’m from Europe, born and raised there, but got my US citizenship back in 2013 (at the time, I did not realize I was losing my original citizenship, which I now deeply regret).

George supported me through everything. Whether I needed to rant and rave about the German government and its convoluted laws (as of June 2024 it changed to allow dual citizenship, but not retroactively), or share my fears and concerns, all I ever received from him was validation. He even began to forward me information as he came across news or articles related to visas and asylum in other countries. George understood my fears, both because he shares some of them and because he knows me quite well considering our relatively short friendship.

So much of my life, including my formative years, I felt unsafe, like I was under constant threat, at the mercy of others who had all the power and control. The neural pathways formed by extended periods of existential fear aren’t easily rewired. Fear triggers an instinctual response, and it takes a lot of work to learn how to control your automatic and mostly involuntary reaction to these triggers. Knowing my history, George didn’t even once question my motivation to leave. On the contrary, he actively encouraged me to pursue a path that leads to my feeling safe, and to a potentially happy future.

The best forms of support I’ve received were from people who didn’t assume anything, didn’t judge the unknown, but approached me with honest curiosity and a desire to learn and try to understand. Only a few people actually crossed the boundaries of common courtesy and asked intrusive, inappropriate questions. The best I could do was to gently refuse an answer and remind them that I’m not a fascinating specimen under a microscope, but a human being with limitations on what I’m ready to share.

George’s allyship was exemplary: genuine interest in my journey and experience without a trace of judgment, empathy and support when I was struggling, and sharing in my joy when good things were happening. Every trans person should have a George in their life.

Rowan Murphy is a transgender gay man in his early 50’s. He is a certified life coach, passionate about empowering and guiding his clients through personal challenges, with particular focus on identity issues. Rowan grew up in Germany, studied English Literature and French Linguistics at University of Heidelberg, and recently rediscovered a love for writing.

To learn more about resources for supporting the LGBTQI+ community, check out Suzanne DeWitt Hall's Author page.