Ten Years

Ten years of my life, I gave to my country through Navy service. Not because I was honorable, courageous, or committed, but because I wanted to prove that was worthy. My father, my uncle, and my grandfathers had served for generations. Maybe there was some genetic predisposition for service. I'd try my best. During boot camp, I struggled to run and, at one point, failed to complete a mile and a half in 12 minutes and 30 seconds, as was required for an 18-year-old male. By the skin of my teeth, on my last attempt, I managed to make the run by running it in 12 minutes 29 seconds.

But at last I'm out of Bootcamp and into a tech school for learning languages. I joined to be an interpreter. I attended that for six months before failing, because, as it turns out, Russian is hard to learn.

Again and again, I was being tested and failing to make the grade. Finally, I found I was capable enough at IT work, and so I've been an IT for the entirety of my military service. After 2 years on board my ship, something I'd been trying to ignore but which I knew in my heart was true was that I'm transgender. When I first joined, that would have been a disqualifying factor for my enlisting. After a year, that was lifted, and it took some time for me to build the courage enough to act on it. Forcing myself to conform to the expectation of being someone I'm not was eating at me more and more until I finally told the ship psychologist. And you know what, she agreed I needed to transition. The Navy allowed me to take medication and change my name and gender marker. I could grow my hair. For the first time, I felt like myself. Sure, my father and I cut ties because he refused to accept me, but for all the sadness that loss gave, peace of mind more than made up for it. I was not miserable. Didn't feel like an imposter. Before I knew it, I had reached the end of my 6-year contract and needed to decide whether to continue. "What's six more?" I asked. "They've been so good to me." Notice that six plus six is not ten, and yet here I stand speaking in the past tense.

Ten years I gave to my country. And now my country says to me, "Transgender people are unfit to serve," and changed the policy again. "Get out." and just like that, my second contract finished before its conclusion. That insecurity has returns. Maybe I wasn't good enough. I've heard people say we are costing the taxpayers too much money. True fact, the military spends more money on Viagra every year than on gender-affirming care. How much more? Eight times as much. Something isn't right here. But c'est la vie, one might say. You were never quite comfortable in the military. Look how much you struggled day after day to match their expectations.

Ten years I gave to my country. Three commands. In truth, I don't know if I would have given another ten. But I'll be damned if I allow anyone, especially a bigoted, insurrectionist man, call me dishonourable for being transgender. The truth is I don't regret giving my nation ten years of my life, the majority of my 20s, nor regret coming out five years ago. My life does not end with the military, just as my story does not begin today. I am and have been worthy of all the things I aspire to, and wherever I go from here, it is my decision, and it is right.