I walked into a Casey’s before a doctor’s appointment, needing to pee urgently. Unfortunately, the men’s bathroom (which I use for my own safety and convenience) was being cleaned. So, naturally, not thinking much of it, I decided to use the women’s room instead. While I was using the bathroom, I heard a vigorous pounding on the door, followed by a scream, “YOU’RE USING THE WOMEN’S BATHROOM.” In a terrified daze, I pulled up my underwear and pants, then fled the Casey’s in my hometown of Salina to go to my appointment. With the task uncompleted. I felt terrified, dehumanized, humiliated, and a whole swirl of emotions that are still hard to articulate.
That was sometime in 2024. Conditions for trans people have since gotten worse, having passed a new wave of bigoted, anti-transgender legislation, after having a different set of laws repealed, after passage in 2022. I am genuinely afraid to use the bathroom in public because the fear of having a woman get upset or feel unsafe could mean jail time for me. Imagine using the bathroom, and then all of a sudden having to face the thought of prison. It’s hysteria of the highest order. All trans people like myself want to be able to do is live our lives in peace and love like the rest of cisgender society. One shouldn’t risk their humanity over who is a woman or a man, and just accept that some realizations come later in life, or aren’t a worry in others.
This newest wave of anti-trans legislation has left me feeling many emotions. I’m appalled, disgusted, horrified, and heartbroken. I wanted to believe that Kansans, or at least the elected representatives, had the decency to allow a marginalized group different from them to live in relative peace. Where is the outrage from the cis allies? I feel abandoned. Left behind by a state I’ve spent the last 29 years of my life in. I wasn’t one of the 1,700 trans people affected by the invalidation of their licenses, but it hits me like a shock wave just the same. I am not welcome here as a transgender woman. I must hide who I am. Or face prison or death. I struggle not to fill up with tears as I write this. I hope one day Kansas can learn the power of shared humanity, no matter the race, sex, gender, religion, and so on. But until then, I will feel like an outcast in my own state. After coming out as a woman on this day 3 years ago, everything has changed.
The heartache comes because I was taught as a kid that Kansas was a welcoming place, even though it became one of the main battleground states that ignited the American Civil War, often called Bleeding Kansas. We were the state with a court decision that helped pave the way for school desegregation, through Brown v. the Board of Education. Kansas has the potential, in my view, to be a purple state, littered with liberals, conservatives, far-right types, and left-wing socialists such as myself. We exist in Kansas, but hold virtually no electoral power during most cycles. I want Kansas to be a state that welcomes all people, regardless of who they are.
I feel afraid to move around in public in my own home state. This new anti-trans legislation will be a shameful, hate-filled moment in our history once the dust has settled. The hurtful part is that Kansas has the potential to be a much more accepting state. We regularly elect Democratic governors, Laura Kelly being the most recent. What makes 2026 so overwhelming and gut-wrenching as a trans person is how little cis folks are willing to fight for us, at the expense of themselves.