Musings on Self-Acceptance as a Trans Man
Hello! My name is Kabir, and I’m a trans man. I want to share some reflections on self-acceptance in a society that often demonizes trans identities. This is a big topic—some things may resonate with you, others may not. Take what feels helpful and leave what doesn’t.
Here’s where we’re going in this post:
A bit of “Kabir-lore” for context
Some ongoing struggles with self-acceptance
Concepts and tools that have supported me along the way
For most of my life, self-acceptance has been a challenge. In middle and high school, I remember feeling deeply uncomfortable with the changes in my body—weight around my hips and stomach, the development of a chest. I didn’t have the language for dysphoria then, but looking back, that’s exactly what it was. It took up a lot of mental space. I was constantly thinking about how I looked, how my clothes fit, how my body moved, and how others might see me.
When I went to college, I entered a femme phase and tried hard to love my body the way it was. I wore clothes that accentuated my figure and told myself that “beauty is pain.” I wanted to believe that if I could just conform to what others said was “me,” my suffering would stop and everything would finally click into place.
Learning that gender wasn’t binary changed everything. I realized my experience wasn’t unique or wrong.
Learning that gender wasn’t binary changed everything. I realized my experience wasn’t unique or wrong. I got an undercut, then my first “masculine” haircut. I tried they/them pronouns, which fit for many years. I wore more masculine clothing and tried a binder for the first time… each of these steps was life-affirming and I finally felt more comfortable in my skin.
A major turning point came when I taped my chest. I cried looking in the mirror because, for the first time, I felt like myself. That moment led me to realize I wasn’t nonbinary—I was a trans man. I remember wearing a suit and finally seeing myself: confident, attractive, and happy.
These days, my understanding of self-love is rooted in mindfulness. As I write this, I notice the breeze brushing my arm hairs. I feel my body relax with each breath. I savor the cold water trickling down my throat. These are small ways I connect with my body outside of my trans identity.
My body doesn’t look like a gym bro’s, and clothes don’t fit me the way they might fit someone else, and yes, that affects me. But I’m learning to relate to my body through joy and play: dancing to 2000s pop hits while cleaning, enjoying a sweet cup of coffee, planning new piercings, tattoos, belt buckles, and bolo ties as acts of love toward myself.
None of this has anything to do with what transphobes say I am. These are things I do for me. The hatred in the world is loud, but now is the time to seek out queer and trans community, to be around people who understand and believe you deserve safety and joy. It’s been healing for me and maybe it will be for you, too.
Recently, I was in a community space where someone said:
“I’m happy that I got the chance to live my life authentically as myself.”
That hit home. No matter what happens, no one can take away the years I’ve spent living authentically or the life-affirming actions I’ve taken. I’m so grateful to have had the chance to live as myself.
If the struggle toward self-acceptance feels unbearable right now, please know you’re not alone. Reach out to safe, loving people. Ask for help. Start therapy with someone who understands. You deserve support, joy, and peace in your body.