Every July 4th, the sky erupts in fireworks, flags flap from porches and pickup trucks, and America puts on its favorite mask, celebrating freedom, liberty, and justice for all.
Except… not all.
For transgender Americans, Independence Day hits different. It feels like a celebration we were never actually invited to, one where the hosts smile as they cut cake with one hand and cut our rights with the other. The red, white, and blue might be everywhere, but for many of us, the only thing it feels like we’re allowed to be is invisible.
When the Nation Says “Freedom” But Means “For Some”
Freedom. It’s a word you’ll hear on repeat this time of year. But for trans people in 2025, freedom is increasingly conditional, often denied outright.
You’re not free when your state bans your health care.
You’re not free when your child is forced to misgender their teacher at school.
You’re not free when you have to fight for the right to exist every time you walk into a doctor’s office, courtroom, or public restroom.
Across the country, laws are targeting us, not hypothetically, but with precision. And they’re doing it while waving the flag.
This past year alone, we’ve seen:
- The VA quietly stripped transgender health funding.
- Military commanders were instructed to “root out” trans troops.
- The erasure of trans veterans from national history.
And it’s not just veterans or adults. It’s our kids. Our families. Our communities.
In state after state, trans children are being stripped of access to puberty blockers and hormones. Parents are threatened with prosecution for affirming their own children’s identities. Trans athletes, some as young as 10, are being banned from school sports. Teachers are muzzled. Books are banned. Entire identities are declared “inappropriate.”
So yes, forgive us if we’re not feeling festive this July 4th.
The Flag I Grew Up With Doesn’t Feel Like It Includes Me
I served this country for 13 years in the U.S. Air Force. I know what the flag is supposed to represent: unity, strength, and liberty. But that version feels increasingly out of reach for those of us who are transgender.
Back then, I served in silence because being visibly trans meant losing everything. Now, I live openly, but the threats are louder than ever.
The flag that once represented possibility now feels like a boundary. It waves for some. It folds us out of frame.
And it’s not just me. It’s every trans person who sees a flag in a neighbor’s yard and wonders, Is that a welcome sign… or a warning?
Patriotic Trauma Is Real And You Don’t Have to Smile Through It
We’re told to celebrate. To smile. To clap politely when the fireworks start. But for many trans people, the Fourth of July feels like a performance we’re forced to sit through, one that celebrates freedom while we live in fear.
That disconnect has a name: patriotic trauma.
It’s the grief that comes from being told you’re part of the nation while being targeted by it. It’s the emotional whiplash of seeing your identity debated on the Senate floor like a threat. It’s watching people fly flags while supporting candidates and policies that want you gone.
It’s loving a country that doesn’t seem to love you back.
We’re Not “Un-American.” We’re the Proof That America Isn’t Done Yet
Here’s the thing the far-right can’t stand: Trans people are American. We’re teachers, veterans, students, artists, business owners, parents, activists, and citizens. We’ve always been here. We’ve always contributed.
If anything, trans people embody the very spirit this country pretends to celebrate: the right to define yourself. The courage to live freely. The determination to survive against the odds.
So no, we’re not unpatriotic. We’re just not willing to pretend everything is fine when it’s not. We’re not interested in a celebration that asks us to smile through erasure.
Because real patriotism isn’t blind loyalty. It’s insisting that your country live up to its promises.
Independence Doesn’t Always Come From a Nation
So this year, maybe don’t celebrate the myth. Celebrate the truth.
Celebrate the trans woman who walked into court and legally claimed her name.
Celebrate the kid who wore eyeliner to school for the first time and survived the stares.
Celebrate the nonbinary neighbor who came out at work and stayed anyway.
Celebrate the queer couple raising a trans daughter in a state trying to criminalize their love.
Because our freedom may not be federally guaranteed, but we carve it out anyway. Every day we survive is an act of rebellion. Every moment we live in truth is a declaration of independence.
And that deserves its own fireworks.
This July 4th, You Don’t Owe This Country a Performance
You don’t have to wrap yourself in the flag. You don’t have to stand for an anthem that doesn’t stand for you. You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine when your rights are hanging by a thread.
You’re allowed to grieve.
You’re allowed to be angry.
You’re allowed to not celebrate a holiday that erases you.
But you’re also allowed to find your own freedom. In your truth. In your joy. In your resistance.
That’s where our country lives now, not in the stars and stripes, but in the people who refuse to disappear.
And one day, when this country finally learns to see us as we are, maybe the flag will feel like it’s flying for all of us.
Until then, we’ll keep flying our own.
