My New Vagina Isn’t What Makes Me Happy. Being ME Does That

I was raised on this colloquial wisdom of my dad, an Irish cop and first-generation American: “You can always tell an Irishman, but you can’t tell him much!” My Jewish in-laws constantly prove the accuracy of the old saying, “Ask two Jews, get three opinions.”

We transgender folks have favorite expressions, too. My favorite is one adapted from old car commercials and ads from my youth, and is not exclusive to the trans experience: “Your Mileage May Vary,” now more likely to be seen in a hashtag as #YMMV. It means no one’s journey, or struggle, or transition, is necessarily like anyone else’s.

It’s also been said, “Once you meet one trans person, you’ve met… one trans person.” That is to say, as in #YMMV, we are not a monolith. We have commonalities, but we rarely function as a community. That’s why I prefer the word “trans population” as opposed to “trans community.”

But for the past week, we have been speaking with one voice, and it’s our angry voice. You already know this if you are friends with one of us, or you are a member of this statistically small population — a 2016 study determined 1.4 million adult Americans, or…