Finding Belonging in Unexpected Places: A Trans Man's Journey Through Texas

Traveling down from Los Angeles on a work trip, I couldn't help but feel like maybe Texas was trying hard not welcome me. After a series unfortunate delays, I missed my connecting flight in Dallas. By time I finally landed in McAllen, a whole day had slipped away. At first, I laughed it off, but a little voice in my head whispered, "Is this a sign?"

I'm a trans man, and while I usually blend in, there's always that underlying worry about standing out, especially in places where diversity isn't always embraced. McAllen, close by Texas's southern border with Mexico, wasn't a place I'd anticipated feeling relaxed. My goal was clear: keep things low-key, steer clear trouble, and remain as invisible as possible.

stormy nights and restless thoughts

One night, a co-worker invited me out karaoke, a chance lighten things up a bit amidst work. But it seemed like nature had other plans — a storm rolled in, streets flooded, and our phones buzzed with tornado warnings. The bar shut down early, and I couldn't shake off that naggin' thought: "Maybe you're just not meant be here." It's not rational, but fear rarely plays by fair rules, especially when mixed with weather craziness, politics, and personal baggage.

The following night, we tried again going out. Karaoke was off table, but we did find a bar with live band play. Despite surroundings, I couldn't quite settle. I longed a place where overthinking wasn't necessary, where existing didn't feel like walking tightrope.

finding a haven

Someone recommended a gay bar nearby — one two places like on strip. I jumped on opportunity and headed over. The moment I walked in, it was electric. The room buzzed with energy from Lady Gaga drag show, in honor her birthday. Performers lit up stage with tons confidence and wit, filling space with glitter and joy.

For a while, I didn't worry about how was seen. No anxiety about being "clocked," just living present moment among people who also chose be there despite odds. Even my non-queer friends found delight in night, which struck chord. Queer spaces, open anyone wanting be themselves, whether 'too much' or 'not enough,' where you always fit right in.

finding freedom

Living in California comes with perks — reliable healthcare, supportive communities, and smooth transition processes. But there's always that naggin' fear, feeling watched. That week in Texas, it followed me until I walked that vibrant bar.

Amidst stage lights and thumping music, I let part go. In times when drag shows face bans and queer happiness gets questioned, when trans folks meet hurdles, dancing at red-state spot felt almost rebellious. Maybe it was.

Fittingly, Lady Gaga set night soundtrack. Her songs have long been sanctuary folks like me, and hearing them on her special day felt oddly meaningful — like universe finally telling me it's okay just be, even if just one night.

For trans people, being seen isn't simple. Often not choice, caught between fear and freedom. That night, I got taste both.

embracing identity

In place I expected stay guarded, I left bar feeling more like myself than had in ages. Not because everything was perfect, but because those few magical hours, I reconnected with who truly am.

I'm still here. I've always been here. No matter what storms come, I'm not going anywhere.

Jay Robinson calls Los Angeles home, caring kittens Best Friends Animal Society. He recently crossed finish line first marathon — Los Angeles Marathon. Reach Jay at [email protected].