RISING ABOVE THE PAIN

In my journey of self-discovery and transition, I’ve encountered a spectrum of reactions from the world around me—some supportive, others laced with ignorance or outright hostility. The sharp sting of stares follows me like a shadow, grounding me in the moment.

I remember people pointing and whispering “It’s one of them,” their hushed tones carrying on the breeze, mingled with the distant honk of traffic. Profanity yelled at me from passing cars slices through the air, raw and echoing.

I get misgendered all the time—the slip of a pronoun hitting like a cold splash—but being 6’3” in sandals, I know most reactions are conditioned, so I cut people a break. It’s very rare that I get the intentional jerk who simply wants to annoy me or look “cool” to their friends. I’ve often turned, put my arms up and flexed like Arnold in Pumping Iron and that usually shuts them up quick.

I go anywhere with confidence and a smile which is all I need, the warmth bolstering that inner glow. Laughter and a smile are powerful tools of communication and are great icebreakers.

Over time, this approach has become my armor; it disarms the stares and turns potential confrontations into fleeting moments.

There was that one afternoon at the local market, where the vibrant chaos enveloped me—the aroma of ripe tomatoes and fresh herbs wafting from stalls. A group of teenagers giggled behind my back, their laughter bubbling, but I turned, flashed a genuine grin, and asked if they needed help finding something—the awkwardness dissolved into a casual chat about fresh produce.

Or the time on a crowded bus, the rumble of the engine vibrating through the seats, when an elderly passenger misgendered me loudly, their voice crackling; instead of retreating, I politely corrected them with humor, sharing a light story about my own mix-ups with names, the shared chuckle warming the air.

Just last weekend I was at a market similar to Whole Foods called Seed to Table and they have entertainment too. It was Friday, so it’s High School football day and six cheerleaders pranced past me giggling. Then in the distance, stopping, and pointing at me when they thought I hadn’t noticed.

I excused myself from company and with a smile, I walked over to them. “Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but notice you pointing at me and chatting. I don’t mean to be blunt but, what would you like to know?” I towered above all of them. I think the tallest of them was 5’3″. I suspect I was quite intimidating. “You all look so pretty in your cheerleader outfits, what school are you from?” Total icebreaker.

These experiences, while stinging at first, have taught me resilience. They remind me that change starts with visibility, and my unapologetic presence is a quiet revolution.

Sure, the world isn’t perfect, and not every interaction ends positively—I’ve had to walk away from escalated situations for my own safety, the adrenaline pulsing—but leaning into empathy for others’ unlearning process has freed me from carrying their burdens.

Now, whether I’m striding through a park with the scent of mowed grass, attending a business conference amid throngs of people, or just grabbing coffee where the rich aroma steams up, that confidence radiates outward, inviting more allies than adversaries.

It’s not about ignoring the pain; it’s about rising above it, one step at a time.

Dr. Gwen Patrone