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When I was 14, I stopped drinking water at school. I would always have a dry mouth and sometimes feel a bit dizzy at school – especially in the summer.
I also absolutely hated the changing rooms used for P.E., and felt uncomfortable and anxious. As a result, I’d wear as much of my kit as possible under my clothes, which would just make me sweat and even more dehydrated.
But I didn’t want to drink any water because then I might need to use the toilet.
And, for me, the bathroom was where I felt the most uncomfortable. That’s because – in my early teens – I hadn’t fully realised it yet, but I was transgender so I’d do everything in my power not to use the female loos.
My lightbulb moment with my gender identity didn’t happen until I was 15.
I learnt what it meant to be transgender when I caught part of a documentary on the TV about the experiences of a young trans man looking back at his life and describing what it was like for him growing up.
I was confused and upset for a while after seeing it, but couldn’t pinpoint why.
Within a year, I started to talk about what I’d seen with a counsellor who was working with me at the time for my anxiety and other mental health struggles. I had never thought to question that maybe gender wasn’t quite as simple as I had always believed – that I wasn’t just avoiding water and toilets and P.E. because I hated them for no reason.
I wanted to scream at myself for not working it out sooner. That I am not – and never really was – a girl.
With the help of this counsellor, I invited my mum to a session and I came out to her then. She was supportive, so a week or two later we – in the same way – told my dad.
Both of my parents reacted well in their own way. It took a while for them to adjust to my new name and pronouns, but we worked it out together.
At school, I asked the staff to use my chosen name (Rain) and preferred pronouns – both ‘he’ and ‘him’ or ‘they’ and ‘them’. Teaching assistants who worked with me were really accepting.
But some teachers weren’t quite as receptive. I was called my old name and referred to by incorrect pronouns a lot.
It was frustrating for me, not least because other students in my class became confused about what to call me as they’d constantly hear two different names being used.
I kept reminding people about my new name and pronouns, but at the end of the year, my results certificates were in my old name.
Throughout it all, the biggest issue I had while I was socially transitioning was the bathrooms.
I received comments on how I looked and dressed, was laughed at and ridiculed, and was even pushed against a sink by my fellow students. I didn’t report it because I was too worried about what would happen and scared that it might make things worse.
I was really shaken by the experience and – to this day – I won’t use a gendered bathroom in a public place.
Eventually, I left the Sixth Form at my school to attend a college in a different town, and I finally began to feel safer in an educational setting. It was really nice having a fresh start where most people didn’t know that I’d ever had another name. On top of that, for the first time, I had two other trans people in my class! It felt like a miracle to not be the only one.
Teachers were really good about my pronouns and were just generally more laid back, which really helped with my confidence.
Now, aged 21, I look back at my time in school and I realise that a lot of my struggles through my social transition were down to lack of understanding from the adults and young people around me.
There wasn’t any mention of gender diversity in the curriculum or any policies in place for how staff or peers should challenge issues like ignorance, bullyingor harassment towards transgender pupils.
To make matters worse for transgender youth today, the Government recently released draft guidance for schools on gender diverse young people, which talks about us as if we’re a problem.
Worryingly, it specifically states: ‘There is also no general duty that says schools and colleges must support a child to take steps that are part of “social transition” – such as agreeing to change their name or pronouns.’
If teachers follow draft guidance like this, I feel that it would be catastrophic for trans pupils already struggling at school – like I did. If I was still in school, I’m honestly really unsure how I would have coped.
I think my mental health – which already wasn’t brilliant – would’ve been a lot worse. I doubt I would have been able to sit my exams or stay on at school – let alone use a bathroom, like I feared the most.
I worry that these considerations aren’t made with the opinions of people like me in mind, but rather from external pressure. We deserve to have our views heard and respected, especially when decisions are made that affect our lives.
I believe that trans young people should be allowed to be themselves at school – and supported for it.
I’m hopeful that, in the future, all trans youth will feel accepted and supported at school. As is their right.
As a trans teen, I didn’t drink water at school so I didn’t have to use toilets
When I was 14, I stopped drinking water at school. I would always have a dry mouth and sometimes feel a bit dizzy at school – especially in the summer.
I also absolutely hated the changing rooms used for P.E., and felt uncomfortable and anxious. As a result, I’d wear as much of my kit as possible under my clothes, which would just make me sweat and even more dehydrated.
But I didn’t want to drink any water because then I might need to use the toilet.
And, for me, the bathroom was where I felt the most uncomfortable. That’s because – in my early teens – I hadn’t fully realised it yet, but I was transgender so I’d do everything in my power not to use the female loos.
My lightbulb moment with my gender identity didn’t happen until I was 15.
I learnt what it meant to be transgender when I caught part of a documentary on the TV about the experiences of a young trans man looking back at his life and describing what it was like for him growing up.
I was confused and upset for a while after seeing it, but couldn’t pinpoint why.
Within a year, I started to talk about what I’d seen with a counsellor who was working with me at the time for my anxiety and other mental health struggles. I had never thought to question that maybe gender wasn’t quite as simple as I had always believed – that I wasn’t just avoiding water and toilets and P.E. because I hated them for no reason.
I wanted to scream at myself for not working it out sooner. That I am not – and never really was – a girl.
With the help of this counsellor, I invited my mum to a session and I came out to her then. She was supportive, so a week or two later we – in the same way – told my dad.
Both of my parents reacted well in their own way. It took a while for them to adjust to my new name and pronouns, but we worked it out together.
At school, I asked the staff to use my chosen name (Rain) and preferred pronouns – both ‘he’ and ‘him’ or ‘they’ and ‘them’. Teaching assistants who worked with me were really accepting.
But some teachers weren’t quite as receptive. I was called my old name and referred to by incorrect pronouns a lot.
It was frustrating for me, not least because other students in my class became confused about what to call me as they’d constantly hear two different names being used.
I kept reminding people about my new name and pronouns, but at the end of the year, my results certificates were in my old name.
Throughout it all, the biggest issue I had while I was socially transitioning was the bathrooms.
I wanted to use the men’s loos, as it felt like the more comfortable option – but I was too scared. Instead, I used the women’s, and my worst fears came true.
I received comments on how I looked and dressed, was laughed at and ridiculed, and was even pushed against a sink by my fellow students. I didn’t report it because I was too worried about what would happen and scared that it might make things worse.
I was really shaken by the experience and – to this day – I won’t use a gendered bathroom in a public place.
Eventually, I left the Sixth Form at my school to attend a college in a different town, and I finally began to feel safer in an educational setting. It was really nice having a fresh start where most people didn’t know that I’d ever had another name. On top of that, for the first time, I had two other trans people in my class! It felt like a miracle to not be the only one.
Teachers were really good about my pronouns and were just generally more laid back, which really helped with my confidence.
Now, aged 21, I look back at my time in school and I realise that a lot of my struggles through my social transition were down to lack of understanding from the adults and young people around me.
There wasn’t any mention of gender diversity in the curriculum or any policies in place for how staff or peers should challenge issues like ignorance, bullyingor harassment towards transgender pupils.
To make matters worse for transgender youth today, the Government recently released draft guidance for schools on gender diverse young people, which talks about us as if we’re a problem.
Worryingly, it specifically states: ‘There is also no general duty that says schools and colleges must support a child to take steps that are part of “social transition” – such as agreeing to change their name or pronouns.’
If teachers follow draft guidance like this, I feel that it would be catastrophic for trans pupils already struggling at school – like I did. If I was still in school, I’m honestly really unsure how I would have coped.
I think my mental health – which already wasn’t brilliant – would’ve been a lot worse. I doubt I would have been able to sit my exams or stay on at school – let alone use a bathroom, like I feared the most.
I worry that these considerations aren’t made with the opinions of people like me in mind, but rather from external pressure. We deserve to have our views heard and respected, especially when decisions are made that affect our lives.
I believe that trans young people should be allowed to be themselves at school – and supported for it.
I’m hopeful that, in the future, all trans youth will feel accepted and supported at school. As is their right.
