Like many queer people in the 80s and 90s, I grew up without the language for myself. There were hints, of course. Little glimmers of recognition here and there in books and on TV. I’d find myself drawn to characters who didn’t fit neatly anywhere, or who slipped through the cracks of their own stories, but I couldn’t have told you why.
Thanks to Section 28 and the long shadow of the AIDS crisis, you barely saw gay people in the media, let alone trans or non-binary folk. We were the silent minority, left fumbling in the dark because the grown-ups thought that if we didn’t know, we wouldn’t become.
Thankfully, we’re all too fabulous for that to have ever worked.
As a kid, I knew I was different. As a teenager, I knew I fancied boys – for all the shame that initially brought me. But the missing puzzle piece was the realisation that I wasn’t actually a boy myself. And for me, that part didn’t click until much later.
Coming out as anything at the age of twenty-seven can feel a bit like you’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, but the truth is simpler. I wasn’t late. I was just living in a world that didn’t give me the mirrors I needed. Over the next few years, I slowly learned more about myself, changed my name, and settled into a non-binary identity. For the first time in my life, I was beginning to feel comfortable not just with who I love, but who I am.
As an author, I find myself thinking often about the stories I needed at sixteen. Or twelve. Or ten. I would have felt so much less alone if I’d been able to read a story where trans people simply existed. Not used as punchlines or plot devices, but part of the world’s fabric, holding their own alongside everyone else.
Now that I’m one of the grown-ups, I’m determined to undo some of that silence. In my upcoming novel The Boy From Elsewhere, some characters happen to be trans in the same way they happen to be clever, stubborn, or hopeless at keeping secrets. It’s there because it’s true. It’s there because young readers deserve to see themselves without having to endure a narrative built around their pain.
As Trans Awareness Week invites us to talk about visibility and remembrance, I keep returning to one simple question: how can I be the person I needed when I was younger? Is it by marching? By battling trolls online?
Sometimes, maybe. But I don’t think we must shout until our throats are sore to help the cause of liberation. Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is let a trans character save the day, fall in love, or sit on a rooftop wondering what the stars are up to.
So, this Trans Awareness Week, I invite you to remember that activism isn’t only marching and megaphones, however vital they may be. Sometimes liberation begins in quieter places. Sometimes it’s as simple as sitting down with your younger self and telling the stories you wish you’d had.
More about Kestral Gaian
Tubelines (Reconnecting Rainbows, October 2024) firmly establishes Kestral Gaian as a poet of depth, humour, authenticity and originality. As a prolific writer, Kestral is due to release their next YA novel, ‘The Boy From Elsewhere’, in spring 2026 – the first in a new series called ‘Reality Quake’. Think contemporary mystery with sci-fi and fantasy elements. This will be Kestral’s fifth book and second YA.
- Tubelines by Kestral Gaian published on 4 October 2025 by Reconnecting Rainbows.
- ISBN: 9781915893093
- RRP: £8.99
- More information: https://reconnectingrainbows.co.uk/book/tubelines/
