Names and places in this work have been removed for the safety of people and parties involved.

Driving up to a Georgetown church, one might not expect anything unusual for small town Texas. Maybe a small congregation gathered for a Monday night sermon, perhaps the building empty and awaiting Sunday’s return. However, Monday, March 31st saw something out of the ordinary in comparison to more conservative churches in the South. People filed in the doors, some carrying homemade dishes, some carrying pride flags, and even some carrying Blåhaj, the infamous IKEA find that has become a symbol for the transgender community. In a swath of blue, pink, and white, attendees celebrated bravery. Bravery to be one’s truest self, bravery to support others despite judgement – the bravery to simply live as a transgender or nonbinary individual.

Hosted by PFLAG Georgetown, the event was filled to the brim with energy and joy much like the surrounding signs of spring. Guests received nametags, pronoun pins, bracelets, and stickers to help them feel comfortable both inside and outside the event. The event workers were extremely kind, all volunteers from the church or PFLAG. They helped serve warm, fresh food and sweets, direct people to seats, and keep conversations warm and welcoming. The attendees were similarly energized and joyful even before the celebrations began. Filled with home-cooked goodies and kind conversations, the real party began. Accompanied by songs like “Walking On Sunshine” and “Funky Town”, attendees did crafts, forged connections, and celebrated the joy and bravery of their lives. The celebration also saw performances by a local drag queen and king, who were absolutely breathtaking to watch.

As a former member of a conservative Baptist church, this celebration was unlike anything I’ve ever attended. It felt beautiful to see trangender and nonbinary people supported by friends, families, and allies, especially when some churches may consider their existence sacrilege. This is not to say that every church, denomination, congregation, or churchgoer is transphobic. However, as someone who was once surrounded by an unaffirming congregation, the celebration felt extra touching and meaningful. The church members meant their kindness and support, making each and every person feel welcome, accepted, and visible on this important day. This Trans Day of Visibility celebration reminded everyone in attendance that we all deserve to be seen, heard, and loved for who we truly are—no exceptions.

In a time that can seem unsure or dark, it is important for us to see the good in the world. The Trans Day of Visibility celebration did just that. It brought transgender, nonbinary, and allied people together, reminding them that they are not alone. I will tell you the same, dear reader. No matter who you are, what you believe, or what you identify as: you are loved. You are appreciated for who you are. And you are never, ever, alone.