11/20/2024
Today is Trans Day of Remembrance, and tomorrow, I’ll be 35. While today is bitter, filled with the weight of remembering those we’ve lost, tomorrow is sweet—marking another year of my own life. I find myself feeling a bulk of mixed emotions. The bitterness comes from the consistent harm faced by my community—systemic violence, discrimination, and injustice. But the sweetness comes from the resilience and resistance we embody every day, living with purpose and fighting to survive in a world that doesn’t always make space for us.
The life expectancy of Black trans women is significantly lower than that of the general population. This disparity is not random but stems from a complex intersection of systemic racism, transphobia, violence, discrimination, and barriers to healthcare access. Studies and reports highlight the alarming risks faced by Black trans women, including higher rates of violence and fatal harm, as well as disproportionate economic and social marginalization. The lack of inclusive healthcare, societal stigmatization, and the intersecting challenges of race and gender identity all contribute to a shorter life expectancy for many of us.
While specific numbers can vary, the reality is stark. A 2020 report by the Human Rights Campaign and other studies have pointed to the fact that trans women—especially Black trans women—are more likely to experience violence, with some estimates suggesting the average life expectancy of trans women of color may be as low as 35 years in extreme cases. These figures, though hard to quantify accurately, are a haunting reflection of the challenges we face. Underreporting, lack of comprehensive data, and regional variations all complicate the picture, but the truth remains: the intersection of our identities makes us vulnerable in ways that others may never fully understand.
As I reflect on my own life, I realize how incredibly fortunate I am to still be here. I came from a place of homelessness—struggling to survive, facing uncertainty about my future. But thanks to the love and support of my community, I’ve been able to transform my life. It wasn’t just through my own efforts, but through the actions of others who saw me, uplifted me, and believed in my potential. Today, I am a homeowner. I have a roof over my head, a space to call my own, and a future that, for so long, seemed out of reach. This is the power of community. This is what happens when we support one another, especially in the face of adversity.
As I live my life navigating the intersections of blackness, q***rness, and femininity, I am filled with pride for the person I have become, and the community that helped me get here. While I have faced so many challenges—discrimination, violence, and the everyday microaggressions that weigh on us—I am still here. And for that, I am grateful.
I want to thank my community and all those who have uplifted my name in spaces I’ve never even occupied. Thank you for your support, your love, and for seeing me—truly seeing me—for who I am. Your belief in me sustains me, and your solidarity gives me strength.
If you’re wondering how you can support trans folks today, there are tangible ways to make a difference. You can send funds directly to trans people in need, donate to grassroots organizations and projects led by trans folks, or advocate for inclusive policies in your workplace. Hiring trans individuals and fostering more inclusive environments is an impactful, long-term way to make a difference. Helping one trans person often has a ripple effect, sustaining many, and contributing to the collective power of our community.
The fight for equality, justice, and dignity for Black trans women is ongoing. But we are still here. We are still fighting. We are still living, loving, and thriving, despite the odds. And for that, we deserve to be celebrated.
-Brielle
