When I first published “Coming Out Twice: Transgender Journeys in the LGBTQ+ Community”, I reflected on staying closeted for 53 years, coming out to myself, then coming out to others. First as transgender, and then within queer communities. Later, in “Coming Out Isn’t the Finish Line, It’s Just the Next Step”, I wrote about what it meant to step into a workplace and begin a new chapter of transition. That story ended with relief, but also realism.
Now, another year deeper into transition, National Coming Out Day arrives under darker skies. The re-election of Donald Trump has unleashed a wave of anti-trans legislation, policy rollbacks, and aggressive rhetoric. In this new climate, coming out feels less like a celebration and more like an act of resistance. It carries more weight, more danger, but also a renewed sense of purpose.
Why Trans People Often “Come Out Twice”
In 2024, I shared how my coming-out journey had two major arcs. First was the internal confrontation with identity, and second was the external unveiling to family, friends, and eventually the LGBTQ+ world itself. That second “coming out” is uniquely complex for transgender people.
Unlike coming out as gay or bi, coming out as trans means unpacking layers of gender, biology, expectation, and social role. It forces you to challenge how others see you and how you once saw yourself. I spent decades suppressing that truth, existing in a world that rewarded my disguise. When I finally revealed myself to those I loved and to my local queer circles, I learned that even within LGBTQ spaces, understanding of trans identity often lags.
Misconceptions about what “transgender” means, careless language, and subtle forms of exclusion make that second coming out a fragile balancing act. It is not a one-time event. It is a process of continuous negotiation between visibility, safety, and self-respect.
Coming Out Is Never the Finish Line
In “Coming Out Isn’t the Finish Line,” I described coming out in a blue-collar construction environment. Yes, I felt visible, and yes, I felt proud. But transition did not end there. There were new struggles with voice, restrooms, and safety. Each day brought a different kind of test.
Even now, a year later, those challenges persist. The political climate has only intensified the sense of caution that shadows everyday life. That is not a failure. It is the reality of being transgender in a country where our rights fluctuate with election results.
Coming out is only the beginning. The real work starts afterward, when we must navigate a society that still debates our right to exist.
When National Coming Out Day Feels Different
National Coming Out Day is supposed to be a celebration of pride and authenticity. Every October 11, social media fills with rainbow graphics, slogans, and stories of bravery. For many, it is a moment of connection and joy.
For transgender people, it often feels more complicated. The 2025 Pew Research Center survey found that more than nine in ten LGBTQ adults are out to someone. That sounds encouraging until you look closer. Transgender respondents reported far lower levels of acceptance from family, coworkers, and extended relatives.
Only about thirty-one percent said their parents or guardians were fully accepting. Barely a quarter said their coworkers were supportive. Among extended family, only eleven percent felt total acceptance.
Those numbers tell a familiar story. While visibility is growing, acceptance is not keeping up. Many of us live in partial truths. We are out to some people, cautious with others, and silent where safety demands it. National Coming Out Day can amplify those conflicting emotions. It is a day that celebrates honesty, yet also reminds us of how often honesty comes with risk.
Backlash, Regression, and What’s at Stake
Since Trump’s return to power, I have watched the political winds shift again. Healthcare protections are being reconsidered. Federal guidance on gender-affirming care has been stripped from websites. States that once had inclusive policies now question them.
For many of us, these changes are not abstract. They affect whether we can access doctors, maintain employment, or use a bathroom safely. Coming out, in this environment, is a political act whether we want it to be or not.
If you live in a state that is openly hostile to trans people, coming out can mean job loss, family estrangement, or violence. Yet staying silent can also feel unbearable. Every time a trans person chooses visibility, they are taking a stand against erasure. We remind the world that we exist, that we persist, and that we are not going back into hiding.
So when National Coming Out Day arrives now, I do not see it as a performative gesture. I see it as a protest. It is a day to honor those who have spoken up and those who cannot, while demanding a world where everyone can live safely and truthfully.
A Year Deeper, A Year Wiser
This year feels different for me personally. I am one year further into my transition, one year stronger, and one year more aware of what it means to live authentically.
I continue to work on my voice and confidence. I am still adjusting to new routines and new expectations. There are days when I feel completely comfortable in my skin, and others when I sense how fragile that comfort still is.
But I have also grown less willing to minimize myself. I no longer soften my language to make others comfortable. I no longer apologize for being visible. The political backlash has hardened my resolve rather than weakened it.
In Coming Out Twice, I wrote that coming out to myself was the hardest step. Today, I understand that coming out to a world that keeps shifting beneath our feet is the greater challenge. It requires constant vigilance, and it never truly ends.
When Safety and Authenticity Collide
Every trans person I know lives with some version of this internal conflict. We want to live authentically, but we also need to live safely. That means constantly assessing where it is safe to be out. It means rehearsing explanations, choosing when to speak, and learning when silence is self-preservation.
For many, those decisions come daily. It might mean correcting someone at work but not at the grocery store. It might mean sharing your truth with a friend while avoiding it with family. Each choice carries its own emotional toll.
Coming out is not one grand moment. It is thousands of small ones, spread across a lifetime.
The Role of Allies and Families
For allies, National Coming Out Day is not about rainbow filters or hashtags. It is about action. Support can be simple: use the right pronouns, defend trans coworkers, and educate yourself rather than relying on trans people to do the work for you.
For families, affirmation is everything. Research from The Trevor Project shows that trans youth with supportive families experience significantly lower rates of depression and self-harm. For adults, that same love can be life-changing.
The people who show up for us when it matters most, who listen, who stand beside us, and who protect us are the reason we survive.
The Online Tightrope
The internet has transformed how people come out. Online spaces like Reddit, Discord, and TikTok give trans people community and validation. For many of us, those platforms were where we first found words for our feelings.
But visibility online also carries danger. Doxxing, harassment, and misinformation have intensified. Coming out publicly on social media can expose someone to targeted abuse or professional risk.
In this environment, privacy is not shameful. It is a form of armor. Choosing not to post your identity online is not hiding; it is setting boundaries in a world that does not always respect them.
Rethinking What “Out” Means
For transgender people, being “out” has never meant just telling the truth once. It means living in truth daily, even when others resist it.
It might mean wearing the clothes that feel right, introducing yourself with your real name, or refusing to lie when someone asks who you are. It can also mean quietly surviving in hostile spaces while holding onto your sense of self. Both are valid forms of resistance.
Authenticity does not always require visibility. Sometimes it requires protection. National Coming Out Day should honor both.
How We Can Reclaim the Day
To make National Coming Out Day meaningful again for transgender people, we can change how we approach it.
First, we must accept that coming out looks different for everyone. Some will post their stories online. Others will whisper them to a friend. Both are acts of courage.
Second, we must celebrate the people who cannot come out safely yet. They are part of our community too.
Third, allies should move beyond words and into action. Call legislators. Support local trans-led nonprofits. Speak up in your circles when you hear hate.
And finally, we must create room for honesty about pain. National Coming Out Day should not just celebrate pride but also acknowledge loss, fear, and exhaustion. Strength is not about pretending everything is fine. It is about surviving despite what is not.
The Bottom Line
National Coming Out Day no longer feels entirely safe, but it still feels necessary. It is a reminder that visibility has power, even when the world grows darker.
I used to see coming out as a single turning point, a destination at the end of a long journey. Now I know it is part of an ongoing story, one that keeps unfolding every day that I choose to live authentically.
So this year, instead of just celebrating, I will reflect. I will remember how far I have come and how far there is still to go. I will honor those who have fallen silent and those who still fight to be heard. And I will keep speaking, not because it is easy, but because silence was never freedom.
Coming out was never the finish line. It has always been the next step.
