Aotearoa in 20: Looking beyond the rainbow

Wednesday, 2 September 2020

After years of feeling disconnected from his body, Riley realised he was transgender when talking to a teacher at high school. Riley shares his story for Aotearoa in 20, a Stuff special project.

I probably started noticing my gender when I was about 11 or 12 – that puberty, developing bodies phase. It was awkward for everyone at that point. I realised people were growing out of that awkwardness, but I was still feeling this really intense feeling that I didn’t have any words for.

I was probably 13 or 14 when I even learned that being trans was a thing. If I had that language before then, I’m sure I would’ve expressed myself and known what was up earlier. I wouldn’t say I had a very gendered childhood, nothing was imposed on me. But there are some moments that make sense looking back, like ‘why did I resist this thing?’

Things that seem really superficial, like hating certain things that I associated with femininity. I felt quite guilty exploring that. I was like, ‘is this internalised misogyny?’ But I realised what it came down to was a really intense disconnect with a body that had been assigned a gender, and that wasn’t me.

* Aotearoa in 20: How a steak knife in the eye became a significant life event

* Aotearoa in 20: Living in an abandoned gentlemen’s club and really enjoying life**

When I was about 15, I started talking to people about it. At first, it was very much joking and using that as a way at hinting that I was exploring these deeper feelings. But I remember having a conversation with a teacher at school who I really trusted, and it sort of just came out. I wasn’t sitting down to talk to him about this but I said something like, 'I just hate being a girl’. He asked, ‘when you see and think about maleness and being a boy, is that something you’re attracted to – do you want to be with them? Or do you want to be them?’ It was that difference.

He directed me to resources around terminology: what trans means, what transitioning means. That was quite a powerful day. I think it was November 5, 2012. It sticks in my mind as the turning point. From there, I connected with someone from Tranzform. That was the first time I talked to a person who I knew was trans. They really represented the potential for what I could be. Hearing them talk about all the different ways you can transition – socially, medically – it was opening up this whole world that could alleviate that disconnect I was feeling.

Talking to my family was a huge thing. It was probably in this room actually. I told my dad first. I gave him an article that my teacher who I’d talked to gave to me. It was written from a father’s perspective, about their child who was assigned female at birth and was coming out as trans. I gave it to my dad, and ran away into my room. He talked to my mum for me. I remember them both coming in and just reinforcing that they loved and supported me. It definitely took time for them to come around. But I was teaching them things.

I think that’s a common thing throughout my transition – being an educator. I think it’s a really cool thing. I think it’s such a positive thing to be trans. I can only say that because of the support I’ve got from my family. Unfortunately, that’s not a reality for many trans and non-binary young people. I feel very lucky. Without them I wouldn’t have been able to be me, essentially. They're real champions.

I went to Onslow College and felt comfortable to tell my year group in front of an assembly that I was trans. I received very little backlash. I was one of the first openly trans people there.

There were a lot of questions and again, that educating role came into it. It’s a real double-edged sword. Ninety per cent of the time I really love doing that. It comes in waves, the burnout. I think engaging with these issues for a long time, talking to people and hearing the statistics which reinforce the disparities between trans and non-trans populations, it hits you at moments.

Sometimes you get a memory of something you really relate to – dysphoria, depression. But then the spark ignites me to keep going. It’s interesting because I don’t always connect with that word – activism – maybe because what I think is an activist is a very particular thing. Activism comes in so many forms.

Being trans is not up for discussion. And it should never be used as a weapon. But at the same time, it’s political because there’s such a lack of understanding around it, and people have such misunderstandings about what it means to be trans. So we require activism, in that sense.

But that idea of coming out has been such a journey. Also, my relationship to that term. I recently heard someone, rather than talking about ‘coming out’, talking about ‘inviting in’. I thought that was really nice, because it gives the autonomy to the person to let people into their lives and experiences. I think there was a real pressure for me to come out.

For many trans and non-binary people, coming out can mean so many different things throughout your transition. You might be coming out as your affirmed gender, or later on as I’m experiencing now, it’s coming out as trans, if people are reading me as who I am. Because I’m quite open, coming out is not this definitive moment.

People might know about me from hearing other things or from knowing other people, and that’s all good. I hope fewer people have to come out because it reinforces that ‘other’ stereotype, where you have to claim who you are, because people assume that you are part of that norm. I’m noticing more young people are resisting coming out, which I think is really cool and hopefully reflective of where we are and moving towards in Aotearoa.

Every day of my life since I was however old I’ve had gender on my mind. I can’t deny it’s shaped my work, community, friend groups, and myself. But when it becomes tokenised and people call on you just to talk about your trans experiences and not see other parts of who you are, that becomes an issue. I think for myself that’s been a journey, too: trans, rainbow stuff aside, what are my interests? Who am I? I have to consciously be like, ‘I have things outside this’, because for so long it’s been the only thing I’ve been thinking about.

One thing I could do all day for the rest of my life would be trail running. If it’s on a trail and out on the bush in the forest I can spend the whole day running, tramping.

I find that movement of my body quite meditative. I really have a lot of gratitude that my body can move in that way. And I think being in Wellington, that’s connected me to this place more – the geography, the landscapes.

I’m really drawn to the wind and the hills. Just 300 metres from my house is a trail head to anywhere. I could run to the south coast, Mount Kaukau or down to Porirua. I find a lot of happiness in that space – being by myself, or with my sister. I developed this really cool cycle route during lockdown which I feel quite nostalgic about. I might bring it back again if we go back into another one. It was up and down the hills, I called it the four peaks. That really gave a good sense of grounding for me. I felt very secure and protected. We’re almost up in a nest here in Karori. I’m also really interested in thru-hikes.

I’m a bit obsessed with the idea of long-distance hiking. I’m planning to do the Te Araroa Trail this summer. That map of it has been on the wall for four years. I really want to experience living out of a backpack for a long amount of time, and having no goal but to walk from one place to the next.

I don't think that passion came from my family, though my dad is sort of into tramping. It’s that drive to feel connected. I've always felt a connection with natural landscapes. Being amongst trees, I’ve felt that insignificance.

I don’t know if it’s a yearning for something bigger than myself, but I really find a sense of calm, particularly in a forest where you’re protected.

I love movement. It’s strange, because in high school I was not sporty. It’s something that I’ve come to learn about myself. It’s from me.

As told to Andre Chumko for ‘Aotearoa in 20’, a Stuff project.