Trigger Warning: This article discusses sexual assault, including statistics, personal experiences of trauma, and societal mistreatment of transgender individuals. It may be distressing for survivors or those sensitive to these topics. Please read with care and prioritize your well-being.
April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. And if you’re reading this, chances are you know what it’s like to live in a world that treats your body like it doesn’t belong to you. I wish this were just another awareness post with a hashtag and a hotline. But this is not that. This is for us. This is for survivors. This is for you.
This is a love letter to every transgender person who has endured the unbearable and still wakes up. Still breathes. Still hopes. Even if only in whispers.
I’m With You Because I Am You
My name is Bricki. I’m the founder of Transvitae. But titles don’t matter when you’re curled up in the aftermath, shaking and ashamed of something that was never your fault. I’ve been there. I am a survivor of sexual assault. More than once.
And I want you to hear me clearly: what happened to you is not your fault. It wasn’t because of what you wore, how you looked, how you moved, or who you are. And it sure as hell wasn’t because you’re transgender.
You are not broken. You are not dirty. You are not disposable.
The Cruel Math of Our Reality
Here’s the truth we’re forced to carry: transgender people are disproportionately targeted for sexual violence. The numbers are horrifying but not surprising to those of us who live them.
- According to the U.S. Transgender Survey (2015), 47% of transgender people are sexually assaulted at some point in their lifetime.
- That number jumps even higher for Black trans women, disabled trans people, and transgender people experiencing homelessness.
- Transgender youth are almost twice as likely to experience sexual assault compared to their cisgender peers, particularly in K-12 schools.
These aren’t just statistics. These are real people. Our people.
We are targeted because we’re seen as “other.” As vulnerable. As less likely to be believed.
And yet—while so many of us are survivors—we also live under the constant accusation that we’re the danger. We are painted as groomers, as predators, as monsters in locker rooms and bathrooms, by people who know nothing about us. This cruel reversal is more than a lie—it’s psychological violence.
Imagine being a survivor of sexual assault and then being told that you are the threat. That you are the one to fear. That your existence is dangerous to children. It’s not just wrong. It’s dehumanizing.
Let me be absolutely clear: Trans people are not predators. We are preyed upon. And we deserve safety. We deserve compassion. We deserve justice.
The Shame Isn’t Yours to Carry
If you’ve survived sexual assault, you know what it feels like to carry shame that doesn’t belong to you.
Maybe you didn’t fight back. Maybe you froze. Maybe you still see their face when you close your eyes, or maybe you can’t remember anything at all. Trauma doesn’t come with a guidebook. It shows up however it wants.
And if you’re trans, that shame is often compounded by a culture that already wants you to feel wrong for existing. We’re told we must be confused, or asking for it, or lying for attention.
None of that is true. The shame is not yours. It was never yours.
You Don’t Need to Be “Healed” to Be Worthy
Healing is not linear. Some days you’ll feel fine. Some days the smallest sound or smell will knock the air out of your lungs. And some days you’ll wonder if you’ll ever feel like you again.
You don’t need to be “better” to be lovable. You don’t need to be fully healed to be whole.
Your trauma is not a character flaw. It’s not proof that you’re weak. It’s proof that someone hurt you—and you survived.
I know surviving doesn’t always feel like a win. Sometimes it feels like dragging yourself through glass just to exist. But you are here. Still. And that’s a quiet kind of defiance.
Let’s Talk About Our Bodies
For many trans folks, our bodies already feel like battlefields. Then trauma makes that battlefield even more volatile.
- You may feel disconnected from your body.
- You may avoid mirrors, or intimacy, or medical care.
- You may struggle with boundaries, or reclaiming pleasure, or trusting anyone with your skin.
That’s okay. That’s normal. There is no right or wrong way to live inside a body that’s been touched without consent.
But I want you to know: your body still belongs to you. Even if it doesn’t feel like it. Even if it feels like a haunted house some days.
You are allowed to take your body back. At your own pace. In your own way. You are allowed to say no. You are allowed to say yes. You are allowed to say “not yet.” You are allowed to say “I don’t know.”
You get to decide what safety means. What healing looks like. What touch feels good—if any.
Believe Survivors, Especially Us
We deserve to be believed. All of us. No matter how we present. No matter our genitals, our hormones, or our surgeries (or lack thereof). No matter whether we “pass” or not. No matter how long ago it happened. No matter if we reported. No matter if we remembered yesterday or twenty years later.
Our stories matter. Even the messy ones. Even the ones that don’t make headlines or courtroom drama TV shows.
The truth is, many trans survivors don’t report what happened to them because they don’t trust the systems that are supposed to help. And for good reason:
- Trans people are more likely to be mistreated, disbelieved, or outright blamed by police and medical providers.
- Many of us fear being outed, misgendered, or assaulted again just for speaking up.
- When we do come forward, we are often told to stay silent for the “greater good” of the community—especially if our abuser is also trans or queer.
Let me be very clear: you are allowed to speak your truth. Even if it makes people uncomfortable. Even if it’s inconvenient. Even if they try to silence you.
There is no community “solidarity” that requires your silence. There is no justice that asks you to protect your abuser.
You Deserve Support. Real Support.
Support doesn’t have to mean therapy (though it helps—especially trauma-informed, trans-affirming therapy). It can be:
- A friend who checks in without needing details.
- A chosen family member who makes space for your rage and your grief.
- A journal you write in when you can’t say the words aloud.
- A moment in the mirror where you whisper, “I believe you,” to your own reflection.
Support looks different for everyone. But here’s what it always means: you don’t have to go through this alone.
And if you don’t have anyone right now, let me say this again: I believe you. I love you. You are not alone.
Our Bodies, Our Stories, Our Power
To be a transgender survivor is to carry layers of pain most people can’t fathom. But it’s also to hold a truth so powerful it terrifies those who try to erase us:
We are still here. We are still loving. We are still ourselves.
There is no lie loud enough to silence our truth. No smear campaign cruel enough to unmake our humanity.
We are not broken. We are breaking through.
You Are the Author Now
If no one has ever told you this before, let me be the first: Your story does not end with what was done to you.
You are more than a chapter of pain. You are the author now. You get to write the next page. Whether that next page is healing, rage, softness, joy, survival, or just one more day of breathing—you get to choose.
You get to be messy. And loud. And numb. And brilliant. And quiet. And full of contradictions. You get to be a survivor and someone still figuring things out.
You get to live. Fully. Authentically. Unapologetically.
The Bottom Line
To every trans survivor out there: I love you. I believe you. I am so deeply proud of you for making it this far. Your pain is real. Your truth is valid. Your body is worthy. Your story matters.
This April—and every day—you are not alone.
With all my heart,
Bricki
Founder of Transvitae.com
Survivor. Sister. Fighter. Family.
