AGING AS A TRANSGENDER WOMAN

As I write this blog, I sit back to recall all the moments in my life that I honestly never thought I’d even make it to; much less prepare for. As a 51-year-old Black woman of Trans Experience who is also living with HIV, Epilepsy, Pre-Diabetes, High Blood Pressure AND High Cholesterol, JUST TO NAME A FEW, I’ve lived long past my life expectancy. Who would’ve thought that I’d be still alive to deal with everything that the aging process has thrown my way? Yet it has.

Let’s just keep it real y’all, there are lots of resources available for people who are aging, but whether they are appropriate for Transgender Women is a whole other topic. Is there a place that won’t erase all the hard work I have done on myself; a place that will respect my choice to live in my truth? It’s hard enough to find appropriate care for our community regardless of our age. For myself, the older I get, the more I worry about my quality of life and what that’s going to look like when or if I ever need someone to help me with things that I can’t do anymore.

Have I done enough to sustain me, with rising prices and little to no chances for better pay or promotion in the workplace? Understanding that it means more work for little pay or staying at a job simply because you’re worried about will a different place invest in you at your current age? Or maybe having to work a second job at a time in life when rest should be a priority for you. These are the things that stay on my mind these days, as well as trying to keep up with aesthetics and the imaginary bar that I’ve set for myself along the years.

I’m finding that it’s the little things that mean the most to me. The small things like simply having someone to talk to matter so much. Someone who is happy to see my number come across their phone. Someone who understands that it just might take me a little longer than others for me to express what I’m trying to tell them. The aging process can be quite a humbling experience and if you don’t have a good support system, depression can really begin to set in. Unfortunately, we are at a time when funding for support groups has become non-existent even though we all know the need for it is so great. The importance of communicating with others who are experiencing similar things and documenting how to navigate through it can leave behind a roadmap for others to follow in the future.

So many of our leaders are finding themselves getting closer and closer to this aging process, with not many to take up the important work that we’ve been doing for decades now. This forces us to work longer hours than we anticipated, not able to take care of our own health in the way that we advocate for others to do for themselves. What does this mean for our community, and how do we answer these questions? How do we make certain that this important work continues?

I’d like to think that I’ve shown up for my community; not only in the work that I do, but outside of work as well. Some might even say that this is the most important work I’ve done. Whether it’s just to offer a listening ear or to offer advice. Or to just sit with someone in silence and maybe hold a hand or give a hug to someone. I’m a mother, a mentor, a person who has worked in the field for decades, a performer, a friend, a survivor, an elder… in so many ways I do things in community that directly connect to aging gracefully and staying connected. It appears life is now showing me how I can work to create a space where transgender women can receive a different kind of service. Hopefully a space where we can evolve with dignity and respect.

It is my hope that I’ve done this subject justice. It was a very personal piece and very hard for me to complete. It took me to some dark places, and I hope that it gives the person reading it a sense of relief that someone is thinking along these lines.