Hello again, it has been a while. I am sorry I have not posted for some time, life just carried me along for a bit. For the most part, things have been going well. Work has been steady, my health has been manageable, and life has been ticking along in a way that felt balanced. Almost too balanced, if that is even possible.
A Shift in the Air
Recently, though, I have felt a shift. Not in my body this time, but in the world around me. The atmosphere feels heavier and more hostile. My trans friends are having their identities chipped away at by gender critical voices who believe their opinion is more important than someone’s right to exist. I wish it was not the case, but I cannot ignore the fear that one day, I might be next.
It is not just about sexuality or gender identity. Disabled people are being dragged into the firing line too, with benefits being cut or tightened, and public opinion shifting back to the tired old narrative of us being burdens. As someone living with multiple chronic illnesses and AuDHD, I know all too well how fragile support systems can be, and how quickly the conversation can turn against us.
In the year ending March 2024, police in England and Wales recorded 4,780 hate crimes with transgender identity as a motivating factor. Transphobic crimes now make up 3 percent of all hate crimes, compared to just 1 percent ten years ago. That is thousands of people targeted purely for existing, a stark reflection of what we are becoming as a nation.
Living with ME/CFS, hypermobility, and other health challenges means I already have to carefully measure my energy and navigate a world that often forgets to include people like me. Some days are manageable, others are not, and that unpredictability is hard enough without the added fear that the safety nets could vanish.
With AuDHD, there are also the invisible challenges. The social misunderstandings, the sensory overload, the constant balancing act of managing my needs against what is “expected”. It is not something I can switch off, and it shapes every part of my life. When policies or public attitudes start shifting in ways that make life harder for people like me, I notice. I have to.
If any of this resonates, I would be interested to hear how you have dealt with similar feelings. Sometimes hearing from others can make the load feel a little lighter, so leave a comment if you’d like to.
I am still learning how to be proud of my sexuality and who I am. It is something I share openly only with a small circle of people I trust. My mum, my sister, and a couple of close friends (and now you too, anonymous reader or potential family member I didn’t know reads this blog), but beyond that, it is not something I shout about.
Sometimes, my mum makes light-hearted comments like “you will be fine, you can just be with a woman instead” if things get harder for LGBTQ+ people. I know she means well, but that is not how it works. I’m very happy with my life as-is, but let’s say I were to fall in love with a man, would I then have to weigh that love against the risk of abuse, discrimination, or even violence? That is not something I should ever have to calculate, and joking about it does not make the fear go away. Saying it will not happen, or that you cannot predict the future, only minimises what is already happening to trans people right now. I am sure similar reassurances were given when their acceptance and rights were at their height.
My dad, on the other hand, probably does not even know I am bisexual. He loves me, I know that, but he is also someone I cannot fully be myself around. We have to be careful what we talk about and when. Pride, LGBTQ+ rights, even the clothes I might want to try wearing, all feel like topics or choices that could spark a conversation neither of us really wants to have. It is easier to sidestep than to confront, but it means part of me stays hidden at home.
What Support Looks Like
Support is not always about big gestures. Sometimes it is about small, consistent signs that you are listening and you care. Looking into what is actually happening with rights in the UK, rather than brushing it off as media noise. Remembering when someone has mentioned something that worries them, and asking about it later. Showing that you have taken the time to understand why it matters, even if it does not affect you directly.
It is also about avoiding the instinct to minimise. When someone hears “you spend too much time looking at these things” or “because you are noticing it, you will notice more”, it feels like being told to put their head in the sand because it is more comfortable down there. Maybe there is some truth in it, but if people do not pay attention, and their friends lose their right to exist safely, or their own rights are chipped away, how could they live with themselves knowing they stayed silent when they could have at least raised the alarm?
I wish my mum would take my concerns more seriously, not because she does not care, but because I know she does. I think sometimes she shields herself from the sadness and frustration by not engaging too deeply. But for me, being heard, having my fears validated, and feeling like someone else is watching the horizon with me makes the weight easier to carry.
I have seen other people’s parents out protesting, wearing badges, posting about their support online. I do not know if that would help, but something visible, something that says “I see you, I am with you” would mean a lot. It is not about fixing the problem single handedly, it is about showing that the problem matters.
A Note to Mum (and Dad)
Mum, if you are reading this, please know that I love you and I think you are a wonderful mum. None of this is about blaming you. I just needed to put into words how I am feeling, and sometimes that is easier to do here than in person, especially with Dad around, lol. You have always been there for me, and I am grateful for that every day. This is just one of those things I hope we can talk about more openly, in whatever way feels right for both of us.
Dad, if you are reading this… surprise, I am bisexual. I know we have never talked about it, and maybe that has been easier for both of us, but it is still part of who I am. I know you love me in your own way, and I appreciate the things you do for me, the practical help, the problem solving, the ways you show you care without using many words. You are not really the “emotion” type, and we do not always see eye to eye on certain things, but that does not change the fact that you are my dad. I am not asking for big conversations or changes, just that you know this is part of me, and that it matters. Sometimes even a quiet understanding can mean more than words.
If any of what I have shared has struck a chord with you, whether because you have lived it or because it has opened your eyes to something new, I ask you to do one thing: pay attention. Notice the small shifts. Speak up when you can. Show the people in your life that their struggles matter to you.
Sources & Resources
- Transgender hate crime stats (England & Wales, year ending March 2024): 4,780 offences; 3 % of all hate crimes (Home Office) (gov.uk)
- Mind – Mental health support
- Stonewall – LGBTQ+ rights and support
- Scope – Disability equality charity
