Transgender Day of Visibility

March 31st is Transgender Day of Visibility, and I’ve been thinking about what that word actually means to me.

It sounds simple. Like being seen is always a good thing. But for a lot of trans people, visibility is complicated. Being seen has not always meant being safe. Being seen has not always meant being understood. Sometimes it has meant being judged before you even get to speak. Sometimes it has meant someone looking at you, but not really seeing you at all.

For most of my life, I was much more comfortable being behind the camera than in front of it. Behind the camera, I had a place to put my attention. I could look outward. I could notice the light, the color, the emotion, the small details. I could be present without having to feel too visible myself.

And honestly, I think that safety mattered to me before I fully understood why.

Photography gave me a way to access feelings I didn’t always know how to name. It let me hold things at a distance just long enough to understand them. Grief. Joy. Tenderness. Fear. Beauty. An ordinary moment that starts to feel meaningful simply because you stopped to look at it..

That’s part of what makes visibility feel so important to me now. Because I know what it feels like to look in a mirror and not fully recognize the person looking back. I know what it feels like to avoid being photographed because the image feels wrong in a way you can’t quite explain yet.

I care about making people feel safe in front of my camera. I care about the room feeling low-pressure. I care about letting the world be seen fully rather than forcing it into an image. I want to pay attention long enough to notice what is already there.