Being Trans Shouldn’t Exclude Me From Health Laws

One day in June, I sat in a crowd of thousands at Dolores Park in San Francisco, blankets spread across the lawn, bottles of champagne uncorked, rainbow flags waving in the breeze. All around me were women in sparkling halters, men in skimpy shorts, trans and cis and genderqueer people. Glitter everywhere. It was 2011. New York had just legalized marriage equality, and “I ♥ NY” T-shirts dotted the hill. My boyfriend, who is now my husband, and I had come down from Portland, Oregon. I wasn’t new to big Pride celebrations, but this was the first time I’d been part of an enormous group of queers as myself: a queer trans man.

I took off my T-shirt and exposed my bare chest in public, something I hadn't done since I was a little kid. I’d just had top surgery six weeks before. My scars were still raised and red, and I probably shouldn’t.