Originally published in the Summer/Fall 2025 edition of the Virginia Defender, issue 77, printed December 11. Reproduced here for accessibility and archival purposes. To find other stories in the Summer/Fall 2025 issue or to download the full PDF, see this post. For other issues dating back to 2012, see the Full Issues page.

By Aurora Higgs

Imagine that you’ve waited the majority of your life to receive the most precious gift you’ve ever been given. Then you get that gift, and it’s more beautiful and precious than you could’ve possibly imagined. Now imagine that instead of spending the rest of your days enjoying your gift, you are forced to spend that time protecting it from a world of people who want to take it from you. But it doesn’t stop there. In some cases, they also want to vilify you and remove that precious gift from existence.

That’s what it’s like being transgender in the United States in 2025.

The analogy above is, admittedly, a bit reductive. The truth of the matter is that being transgender is so much more wonderful and scary than I could possibly put into words. And let me be clear: being transgender can certainly be difficult, but for the sole reason that my identity has been politicized in a way that we’re being used as scapegoats for those who want to advance their political agendas and careers. It’s a tactic as old as time: convince your community that a fake problem exists, work them up with false stories of a “boogeyman,” then pretend that you have the solution to exterminate the problem. This is classic fearmongering, and it has proven effective many times in history.

It also bears mentioning that in 2025, trans individuals are not the only scapegoats being targeted in contemporary propaganda. Migrant peoples, anti-Zionists, leftists, and even Gen Z have been the target of such toxic rhetoric.

I won’t mince words: 2025 has already been exhausting and emotionally draining. I have shed an unquantifiable amount of tears because I was terrified about what the future would hold for me and those being targeted. Conservatives have been positioning their campaigns on single-issue threats of eliminating DEI and rolling back the rights of trans people. I could barely leave the house and was constantly experiencing dizzy spells because my blood pressure was through the roof from the stress. I was worried that my existence was going to be outlawed and I’d be forced to leave the country I’ve called home. Eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that the looming threat and fear were not going to magically disappear. Being a Virginia native, I also had to acknowledge that I am relatively lucky that I live in a state with moderate protections for trans adults. So, I can choose to hide in fear (which is what those who target us want) or I can be a voice for my community and amplify the needs and challenges of other communities being targeted similarly to mine.

Being in Virginia has been a godsend, which may surprise many who grew up in historically progressive states. I grew up being a visibly queer child who had the courage and audacity to come out as such to my parents at the wise old age of 7. As much as I’d love to take credit for such courage and audacity, it mostly stemmed from growing up around people who loved me unconditionally and were far more interested in fostering my precociousness rather than grooming me into fitting into some heteronormative mold that was much too confined for someone like me. So I owe a lot to Virginia, specifically to my community in Richmond, where there stands a mural in my honor on MacArthur Avenue. I hope more than anything that Virginia will continue to uphold the values of its diverse peoples, many of whom do not want to see democracy being undermined by those who are willing to sell out in order to cater to billionaires.

Unfortunately, Virginia is not out of thewoods yet. I write this piece a month before the Virginia governor’s race, and there is so much riding on this election because of our country’s slide toward fascism. I want to continue to call Virginia my home, but if the results of the election are not favorable, then I will be forced to relocate. At the beginning of this year, I put out a crowdfunding campaign to raise money to leave the United States if necessary. I just want the freedom to live my life in peace and achieve all of my most grandiose goals for this lifetime. Transgender people are not a threat to anyone’s livelihoods, and we simply want the same in return. Believe it or not, we have so much to offer this world. The world simply needs to allow us to thrive to do so.

Aurora Higgs (she/they) is a Richmond-based producer, actor, consultant and professional speaker who specializes in the intersections of Black, queer and performance-based media.