Being trans has recently become increasingly visible in our culture and our media. Representation in a world where we formerly had absolutely no voice is wonderful. However, there's only really one story that has arisen. We've all heard it: "Since I was small, I dressed in boys' clothes and played with boys' toys," or "I've never quite felt I've fit," or "I've always felt like I was born in the wrong body." This is something that I like to call the "standard trans kid narrative."

(There is nothing wrong with this being your, or anyone's, experience. However, it is not the only experience and it's dominance in media does not mean that it is more valid than other experiences.)

Personally, self discovery has come to me in a whole different way. I'm 19 years old and I have always felt like I was wholly and comfortably a woman. I was assigned female at birth, I played with lots of different kinds of toys, and I had no problems with dresses or the color pink. I also liked to climb the dirt hills behind my house and build things at Home Depot. I was a pretty well-rounded kid and I had interests for both socially designated genders, but I never questioned my own. Even once I knew all about the labels and nuances of being trans, I had unwavering faith in my own gender.

It wasn't until the end of my first year of college that I started to question that faith. I have never felt dysphoric — like I was born in the wrong body. There are things I like and things I dislike about my body, but it is mine, and feels like mine. However, because of the standard trans narrative, I felt like I was pretending even in questioning my gender because I didn't feel uncomfortable with the way that others perceived me. I felt guilty, so, I asked all my trans friends, including a few I haven't talked to in years.

The overwhelming response was: Why don't you try it out? If it turns out that you are trans, cool. If you find out you're cis, that's cool too.

So, I did. I read all about different identities in the trans community. I gravitated towards non-binary, which is an umbrella term for people who feel they don't fit inside the gender binary; demigirl, which means a person who identifies partially, but not wholly, as a woman; and genderflux, which means you move between alignments.

Even once I had these terms, I was confused about what I fit into. I also felt like if I didn't know, I couldn't be trans. Demigirl and genderflux both felt a little bit wrong, and non-binary felt like it wasn't specific or certain enough to be valid. Unlike the former two, though, calling myself non-binary didn't feel wrong. It didn't feel magical, but it didn't make my stomach twist either.

I'd heard the standard narrative not only in media but from every trans person I knew. Maybe this was a coincidence, but either way, I felt like I was being trans wrong. But here's the thing: There is no wrong way to be trans.

It took me a while to figure that out. I bought a chest binder and I tested out a new name with a few friends. I wore more neutral t-shirts and kept reading about the different identities within the trans community. I still felt uncomfortable.

The turning point happened suddenly and instantaneously. One of my friends said, "Hey, Ev." It caught me off guard. But it did feel magical. It felt right, the way that acknowledging and accepting my queerness had felt in high school.

Feeling happy, or otherwise positive, when someone affirms your gender identity is called gender euphoria. It's sort of the opposite of gender dysphoria.

It's really cool. And it's really valid.

It's also totally cool to be comfortable with being non-binary, even though it isn't specific. It's cool to be super specific. It's cool to know from a young age, and it's cool to find out at fifty. If you wanna bind or tuck or pass or rock your natural body, that is up to you and it is totally valid. No matter what your trans narrative is, it is valid.

There is no wrong way to be trans.

(Resources about being trans and gender non-conforming.)