Trans Man Finds Faith In Their Future

You can learn more about L. Nichols and their book “Flocks” at their website.

Transcript

CONTENT WARNING: We mention self harming in this episode. Go to thetrevorproject.org for resources.

You Gotta Have Faith

Growing up in small town, Louisiana, L. Nichols says everyone knew everyone else. 

Most of the people who are there have been there for a while, like my grandparents lived there. My parents grew up there …. if we weren't like, closely related, we were probably distantly related at some point. 

Church was a big part of life – Pentecostal, Southern Baptist, Evangelical. In this conservative community of 3,000 people, many men wore pants and women wore dresses. Even in PE class, girls had to wear ankle length skirts. And every Sunday the entire town got up early and went to church.

If you didn't go to church, you were talked about.

But L. felt different. No matter how hard they tried to participate – singing in the church choir, wearing dresses their mom picked out, liking boys, L. didn’t fit.

The thing that didn't feel good to me was I always felt like an outsider and didn't know why. 

At a young age L. knew they were queer but kept it a secret and prayed to God to change them.

So I had a conception of, like, gay and lesbian. But I didn't have any idea that people can be other than that. And so, like, when I was a teenager, I was like, ‘oh, why do I feel this way about The X-Files?’ Like I have feelings about them both. But I'm very confused here, very confused. And then I was like, in Star Trek. I'm like, What are all these feelings I'm having? And it's like, What am I? I'm very confused…‘Why do I identify very strongly with Odo?’ 

In most parts of the country it was difficult to be queer in the nineties, but in this small Louisiana town it felt impossible. L. carried around a lot of shame because they knew it wasn’t accepted by their church, their community, or their parents.

I knew how they felt, like I knew how they felt about queer people … And I knew that to be safe in this environment, I needed to just fold up a little bit and tuck in some pieces of myself so they don't stick out. So it wasn't that they were actively unsupportive, it was that like I knew what the consequences were. 

This is a story about how L. put a new spin on faith. This is 2 Lives. I’m Laurel Morales.

Finding Refuge

One place where L. felt a sense of refuge was in nature. They grew up in the country on five acres where they could be their authentic self. They’d pick berries along the creek, go fishing at the pond, collect eggs from the chickens, or ride horses.

I always felt very safe with the animals just because, like, they were happy I was there. Like I didn't need to do anything other than like, be.

It was here in nature, not the church, where L. felt the presence of God.

I had this tree. I really loved that I would play under them like it was this old oak tree. And it had these, like, really cool roots and I'd always, like, play in the roots…

It was the one place where L. felt safe and free, free to be different. 

Around the same time L. also found they could escape into their drawing, escape into their own mind.

I don’t know that I would be able to sort through things without art.

Found Family

L. always did well in school and had teachers and parents who encouraged them, and school gave them a way to imagine a different life outside their small town. So at age 10 L. set the goal of going to MIT. 

For the first time L. discovered there was more than one way to have faith – to believe in your future.

When I was like, I'm going to do this thing, they're all like, yeah, go do it. You can do this.’

One summer L.’s parents encouraged them to apply for the Governor’s Program for Gifted Children, an academic summer camp and L. was accepted. It was there that they finally discovered other smart kids. They analyzed complex novels, did science experiments, performed plays, and made friends. But the program wasn’t without its flaws. One day another kid made fun of L.’s southern accent.

LAUREL: Were you embarrassed when that person pointed it out to you? L: Oh, incredibly, but like, I mean these days I realized that that's like, oh, internalized classism, like, that's what that is. Just being like, oh, like, I don't want to be seen as, like, an uneducated, poor person from the South. 

At the time L. internalized this bias and forced themself to stop saying words like ain’t and fixin’. Once again L. worked hard to fit in, even though it didn’t feel honest. 

Just before L. started high school their parents divorced. L. found comfort in food and didn’t like what they saw in the mirror. L. says with a shattered family, a body they hated, and secrets to hide, they found it hard to get out of bed in the morning. 

I had never imagined a future past a certain age. Like, I just could not imagine a future because I didn't think I was going to have a future. I don't know. Like, I was just like, it's a big block or just like, what's happening here. 

When L. was 16,  they were accepted into the Louisiana School for Math, Science, and the Arts, a residential high school.  So for junior and senior years, L. was able to get a fresh start and escape the chaos at home.

There, L. found other teens like them who didn’t always feel like they belonged back home and made friends who they could finally be themself around. At last L. admitted the truth that they were queer, and was shocked to discover their friends still accepted them.

I realize how much love I have and that like, my friends are my family. They are. I feel about them stronger than I feel about the family I grew up with in a lot of ways, because, like, you know, we've struggled together like it’s something we did together.

Spring of their senior year acceptance letters from colleges began to arrive. L. checked the mailboxes everyday until finally an envelope arrived with the familiar MIT logo. L. was overjoyed to be accepted by one of the highest ranking universities in the country. 

MIT was so intense they struggled academically. But sophomore year L. got a job at the rainbow lounge, a community center for queer students. They admitted they were “equal parts horrified and thrilled.” L. read books and met people who helped them begin to understand themself and feel less alone. They also decided to live at a dorm called New House…

It was the first time I'd seen trans people like being talked about regularly, knew people there who had transitioned. And like it was living there where I realized like, oh, that's what's going on with me… But it like it really did take like being exposed to like a lot of different types of people and seeing different paths that people would take and having this like group of people who were like weird and quirky who are just like, yeah, we're all in this together. We're going to support each other. Just like radical acceptance and like celebration of difference. And it was there that I was like, ‘oh, I'm trans.’ Like, that's what's been going on. Like the like missing puzzle piece where I just like, that's what's going on with, like, my sexuality and also why I'm depressed a lot and like, why I have these issues wearing dresses where I'm just like, ‘no, I feel very strongly that I don't want to do this, and I'm not sure why.’

Faith In A Future

L. spent junior year at Cambridge University. Faced with their conflicting feelings about their sexuality, they started self harming. But they also found a healthier outlet in drawing. It became a refuge and a way for L. to sort through their feelings. 

I had been drawing like little rag dolly characters for a while but when I was there, I realized …I was drawing the same one and, like, giving it my piercings, my hairdo. And I was like, ‘wait, I'm drawing myself, like, what am I doing?’ And once I kind of, like, made that connection to like what my subconscious is already trying to get out there, I started trying to use it as a tool to talk about the stuff I was dealing with…But a lot of it was driven by the fact that I could not conceive of drawing myself with a body. It's like if I had thought about trying to draw myself, it was just like, blank.

When L. tried to imagine a future beyond college, they drew a brick wall. 

Senior year they went back to MIT and decided to move to senior house. Suddenly they were surrounded by people who were proud of being themselves in every shape, color, and size and they accepted L for being their true self. L. credits these friends with saving their life and they became L.’s found family.

It was around this time that L. sought out the help of a therapist who taught them mindfulness techniques and prescribed antidepressants. It was through therapy that L. realized they had been punishing their body for not being masculine enough. 

Once again, L. was confronted with faith that was so hard for them to accept as a child. You see L. had to believe things could be different before they were a reality. It was only then that L. began to see and draw a possible future. Now they saw transitioning as an act of faith.

L. NICHOLS: It took me realizing I was trans. Because until that point. There was nothing. And so I think like the first part of that wall breaking was me just accepting that part of myself and having faith … Being trans is a faith driven thing because it's like I don't have any proof that this is going to be better. Like I can't, like, test out my life beforehand. You know, I can just be like, I'm going to do this. This is where I feel like I need to go. And I'm going to have faith that it'll be the right path for me. Like that was the moment that that wall started crumbling and I could see a path forward.

They went to grad school and fell in love. In 2007 L. and their girlfriend decided to marry. L. had been out among friends but hadn’t yet told their parents. And they wanted them at the wedding. 

I knew my dad's feelings on this were, and I avoided them because I wanted to maintain the relationship I had with him. But when I came out, he made a bunch of reasons he couldn't come to my wedding, and … I don't think our relationship was ever the same afterwards.

Married With Kids

In 2014 L. and their wife had their first baby with the help of a known donor. On the day their child was born, L. remembers a combination of feelings – happy, terrified, relieved.

And I saw his little scrunched up face. My first thought was just like, ‘welcome,’ just a very gentle like I'll always be here for you. Like, I just wanted to protect him. 

L. is now the father to two kids (ages seven and nine) and wants them to have a different childhood than L. had.

I just try to be available? And I think that one of the things I try to do that my dad didn't do is be emotionally available…I try to give them an example of how to be a human. And like, apologize to them if I'm like, ‘oh, now I really messed up. Sorry about Buddy.’ I feel like I've learned a lot about loving and how to let go because I always felt that my love with my parents was very conditional… I'm very explicit with them. I was like, I don't care what you do. I don't care who you grew up to be. I don't care who you love. I don't care how many people you love. Like just go, do you.

L. believes in meeting their kids where they are. L. says therapy has helped L. work through some childhood trauma that was triggered when their kids were toddlers.

L. NICHOLS: It made me realize the things I didn't get as a kid. And how alone I felt like I feel like it really brought up a lot of that. I just want to try to give my kids what I didn't get. And it's also kind of spurred me on to I guess heal myself, like through that interaction of being like, I don't want to pass on the pain I got like, this stops with me. And certainly, I mean, like I said before, like I know, I know. I don't get everything right. 

LAUREL: I'm just wondering, as your kids grow older and they choose their family, like from my own experience, that I'd want them to continue to choose me. And is that something you think about as you've chosen your own family? 

L. NICHOLS: I want them to choose to talk to me and stay in my life. But, like, I also know I can't force them to do anything. I mean, I know what path I took with my parents and it was necessary for my own growth. So, I mean, I guess the only thing I can hope is that, like, I have done okay enough that they want to keep me around. But like, I also acknowledge I don't control them and never have. They're their own people. … I'm not parenting because I want reciprocity. 

L. frequently takes the kids camping and shares their love of the outdoors. It’s often in this setting that L. lets them in on their story.

One of the things I've been trying to do, especially now that I have kids is to learn how to talk about my experiences and learn how to explain myself and learn how to be vulnerable. Like I try very hard more and more as I age. To be, like, as vulnerable as I can be. Because I think that if you meet a hardness with hardness, it's not going to go nothing's going to change. But then it does actually take like strength to be vulnerable and to be resilient when you're hurt. 

Drawing A Future

Sharing their story with their kids has given L. the courage to share it in a book and in 2018 L. published a graphic novel titled “Flocks.” They went to bookstores for signing events and met people who could relate.

I've had like multiple people either from like a similar religious background … being like, I think this will help my family is understand like, oh, this is very similar to my story … I mean, at least in my experience, it was just like such an isolated growing up to find a connection in these moments that felt very alone, I think is powerful… There was one time I had a mom come up to me and tell me that reading my book helped her see how her son could have a future. And that meant so much of like helping like a mom accept their child. 

As I read their book I was struck by how much empathy L. had for their community of origin.

It's very easy to have black and white thinking. It's lazy. And that if you're going to be compassionate, you have to understand nuance and understand how things passed generation to generation and how everyone is kind of interconnected and intertwined. We're all connected. Every single one of us is connected. We all influence each other. 

It made sense. L. had experienced bias and stereotypes and judgments all their life.

L. NICHOLS: I didn't want to portray where I grew up as this monolithically bad thing, and that's a little lazy writing. It's also not true. Like these people, like my fifth grade teacher sang in the church choir with me and, like, taught me how to cook a lot of things, and I know how to cook. When I started college, like, I used to help her cook church dinners and she taught me how to watercolor. So it would be very easy to just like, throw this richness and this goodness away if I was just like, yeah, they sucks because of this other thing like f them You know? LAUREL: Lots of people do that, though. L. NICHOLS: I know,. … I know why people do it, too. Because, like, it hurts the shit hurts her is a lot.  Like it's hard to get over hurting. Everybody here is hurting. Like everyone is just hurting in their own way. Just different flavors of hurting, to see the pain, usually anger is a sign of pain usually. Any bad thing is often just a sign of someone suffering. 

L. knows people are messy, so L. tries to use openness and vulnerability as a defense.

L. NICHOLS: People are going to respond to you as a human. And if you treat them as if they're going to act better, they usually will act better because people want to please, regardless of where they're coming from, like people like there's a social structure where we all try to like whether or not you consciously are doing it, just everyone wants to try to find connection.

LAUREL: If you could tell younger you anything at this point what would you tell? L. NICHOLS: I would tell me to not be afraid. That the pain was worth it. And that life is beautiful and it's far more complex than you ever could imagine. 

L. could never imagine redefining their faith as they have done again and again throughout their life – faith in something greater, faith in a better future, faith in becoming who they were meant to be all along.

This is 2 Lives. I’m Laurel Morales.