
Once you know it, you can’t un-know it. That’s something I think about when I reflect on the moment that I realized I was trans back in 2003. The fact that once I came to the true realization that I am a man, there was no turning back.
Throughout my life, I had experienced tremendous suffering and abuse at the hands of people that were supposed to have loved me. I carried it with me and it weighed on me in ways that led to self-harm, self-doubt and loneliness.I had lived my life as a lesbian up until that point, but I wasn’t happy.
There was some relief in the awareness that I was trans and that I needed to change. But there was fear and isolation. And so, suicidal ideations began, especially since I didn’t know anyone else that was trans.
There was no one to help navigate this unchartered territory.My thoughts turned to the idea of not being able to live if I was never going to be happy. I couldn’t imagine living a closeted life or a life as a trans person.
At the time, you mostly heard about trans women – and people were not kind to them at all. Trans men were essentially invisible.So, I decided there was no alternative.
I went to the beach fully intending to end my life. But someone, something, had a different plan for me that day. I heard a very loud voice tell me “STOP! CREATE YOURSELF!”CT LGBTQ advocates blast executive order banning federal aid for transgender care for minorsI took that voice and turned into the power to create the person I always knew I was on the inside.
I started my journey by having people call me Tony and he.Once I embraced that power and the person I truly was, it was important to surround myself with people that honored my wishes. It was hard, sad and even disappointing but I had to let some people go.
I had no room in my life for people that refused me as Tony.On March 9, 2005, when I was 40 years old, I had my top surgery and that is what I consider the anniversary of my transition. It totally changed my life.
I did not start taking testosterone until two years later, after I had my hysterectomy in 2007. People noticed physical changes and the sound of my voice, and it made me feel good. I wanted to scream to the world and say “Look at me! I am finally the person I was born to be!”Not everyone in my family accepted me right away, especially my parents.
But my twin and my younger brother never wavered; they stood by me through it all. I’ve learned that you can’t push someone into acceptance, it has to be a journey they take on their own. And when they finally get there, you know it’s real.
It took time, patience, and forgiveness, but today, I’m grateful to have a relationship with my parents.It wasn’t long after my transition that I became an advocate, a voice and a face for the trans community. I never really took much time to just be Tony.
I started out as a youth mentor with True Colors. From there, in 2008, I started youth support groups, and they still run to this day.I recently have heard people say, “We have been here before,” meaning that the trans community has faced this same kind of adversity that is happening now.
But I disagree, when I was younger, we were fighting for rights, we were fighting to be more accepted and understood. And we achieved it. And now, it’s being taken away.
That’s a sinking feeling even for me as an adult. So, it is a tremendous weight for today’s trans youth to bear and this moment is not one we have ever really experienced before.The fact is gender affirming care is not optional.
When you sit where I sit, in the darkest moments with kids and their parents and when you engross yourself in their pain and suffering because they can’t get the care that they need – then you can have an opinion. Otherwise, it is not fair to impose your beliefs as if they are facts. I have lived what today’s trans kids are living — it is real, and it is scary.
Reflecting on my journey and this 20-year anniversary, I look back and wish I had some answers when I was younger. I do believe that everything happens when it is supposed to happen. I would never go back and do anything different.
The pain. The sorrow. The isolation.
All of it has made me the right person to help today’s youth. To hold hands and give hugs in the psych ward. To reassure parents and dry tears.
To share a message of kindness and hope for the future.I keep hope in my heart. It’s how I survived.
It’s how I didn’t kill myself. If all of my hurt and challenges helped create who I am today and allow me to sit with a young person and empower them to live, then it was not all for nothing. My pain had purpose.
A lot of things have changed – Connecticut is a pretty safe place to be right now and so many more people across the country are advocating for trans youth than ever before.My hope is that the community (especially kids) don’t feel hated. I worry about the children who are in unsupportive environments.
What do we do for them? Trans Day of Visibility – is not just about being seen. It’s about showing up. Making sure our youth – no matter where they are in their personal journeys — can envision themselves and a future into adulthood leading happy, healthy lives.
Push forward. Be joyful. Kindness is contagious.
Tony Ferraiolo joined Health Care Advocates International (HCAI) in 2021 and helped establish the Youth and Family Program, which provides one-on-one family and youth coaching. Through the Program, Tony also trains educators, administrators, and staff to make schools more welcoming and inclusive for all students. Tony facilitates HCAI’s binder program, which provides free chest binders to the transgender and nonbinary communities, ensuring that money is never a barrier to a binder that can change, or even save, someone’s life.
Tony is also a co-host of the bi-weekly podcast Prideful Connections.To learn more about Tony and his journey, see these resources:Finding My Way Out of the Darkness — Tony’s memoireA Self-Made Man — An award-winning short film about Tony’s transitionTony’s Personal Website — Information on trainings, speaking engagements, etc..