Friend #29 – Ashton

Ashton is a twin.  The pair couldn’t be more identical.  In fact, they are so identical one twin usually doesn’t survive.  The babies were taken from their mother’s womb at thirty-two weeks and the only differences between the two are the hormonal ones after birth…yet Ashton’s sister always knew there was something different about Ashton. 

Ashton knew it too.

The pair had a cookie-cutter childhood in Ahwatukee, Arizona, where the homes were new and the neighborhoods were filled with white, middle-class families.  The twins were honor students.  They went to church every Sunday.  Ashton had a particular affinity for art. 

The twins chose to go to a Christian college in Spokane, Washington and it was during those years where this story gets really interesting.  Ashton’s sister identifies as a lesbian woman.  Ashton identifies as non-binary, which means that on a gender line where male is on one side and female is on the other, Ashton falls somewhere in the gray in between. 

Ashton might be that person that your child once pointed to in public and said, “Mommy, is that a man or a woman?” really loudly, the person you didn’t really notice because you were so busy trying to hush-up the child that you overlooked them.  But if you’d taken a moment to really see the person in front of you…Ashton is beautiful… with shining eyes, soft skin and a smile that lights up the room.  There is an internal joy that emanates out of their* mouth into words intelligent beyond their years.  And the unsure looks, the hushed questions beyond their back, those are all daggers to the soul. 

Think you’ve never met a transgender person?  Ashton told me that conservatively there are at least thirty thousand people living in Arizona who are transgender.  That means you have crossed paths with someone who is transgender.  Did you notice them?  Ashton pointed out that the coffee shop I had picked at random contained at least two transgender people, not including Ashton, while we were sitting there.

Ashton came out in college, which was no easy task in at a conservative university.  At the beginning of their freshmen year, there were no openly transgender people on campus but at the end of their senior year, there were a few who were no longer hiding in dark corners, hoping to go unnoticed.  Ashton felt like they had changed the stigma there and put their passion for art on hold in order to work on transgender legislation in Arizona.  It was just too important, because a transgender person’s body often doesn’t match how they feel on the inside and they live in constant fear that their medical rights will be taken away.

For example, Ashton worries that one day they will be denied gynecological care because their driver’s license says they are male.  Think about that for a moment.  As I sat across from this gentle soul, a cold, prickly hand reached into my chest and squeezed my heart.  That fear is real and legitimate.  For years, Ashton had to walk around with their breasts bound under three layers to feel normal, even in the blistering one hundred fifteen degree Arizona summers.  An unexpected automobile breakdown could throw them into heatstroke with so many layers.  Removing breast tissue is considered cosmetic, is not covered by most insurance and is expensive. 

Ashton said in some ways they miss the bliss and naivety of their cookie-cutter Ahwatukee neighborhood.  There is something to be said for being ignorant to the evils of the world.  And the transgender community has a lot to be angry about.  They are angry because they live in a constant state of fear of being judged and misunderstood.  They are NOT monsters or deviants or child molesters.  They are simply people who are trying to laugh and love and live out their own personal truth, just like every other human being on this planet.  

*Dear Grammar Nazis, Ashton uses the pronouns ‘they’ and ‘them’ so in order to be sensitive, I am using those pronouns throughout this piece.