My name is Autumn and I’m from Brooklyn, New York.

I grew up in a small cabin, Swiss Family Robinson-style treehouse type situation that my dad built in the middle of a state forest in Old Saybrook, Connecticut. I grew up in a really Christian environment, so anything that deviated from fundamental Christian values was not tolerated at all, which means it was super homophobic. But, like, cool homophobes who like Ellen Degeneres and Prince and Elton John and stuff.

I remember when I was a kid, I was watching Star Wars with my older brother and I was asking him to rewind the VCR and replay that one scene where Princess Leia is, like, in her little bikini with Jabba the Hut over and over and over again. I kind of saw being gay as like this terminal illness that I was going to have for my whole life, so I wasn’t too keen on admitting to myself or to anybody else that I was gay.

Any time I expressed my queerness or my gayness, maybe even before I realized that that’s what I was doing, the response to that would range from just demoralizing talk or maybe verbal abuse all the way to physical abuse.

I was finally able to come out to myself once I left that place. I went to college, which is a really interesting and kind of amazing experience for me. With that, I started learning a lot of stuff about myself. I started questioning my sexuality. I start questioning my gender. I started questioning some events that happened to me in my past. You know, just the physical violence in the place that I grew up in but then also sexual violence with other people that I trusted in my life. And I just started unraveling all these layers of trauma and I kind of started unraveling to when that happened.

I was living with a few dorm mates and it was really surprising how they interacted with each other. If, you know, one of my housemates was annoyed with me or pissed off or frustrated or upset, they wouldn’t hit me. They wouldn’t smash my things. They wouldn’t tell me I was worthless. We’d sit down and talk about it. And I started realizing, wow, what I thought was normal for a home was not normal at all.

It was at that time that I was diagnosed with CPTSD, which is post trauamatic stress disorder with complex trauma. It basically just means I was an unsafe situations at an early point in my life.

When I met someone who was really femme but used they/them pronouns, I’m like, wow, me too. You know what I mean? I love wearing lipstick and eyeliner and makeup, but I’m not a woman. And that was so amazing. I didn’t – wasn’t able to like that part of myself until I saw someone else like that part of themselves.

All of this is unfolding and I was going to testify as a witness against a teacher who had assaulted me when I was a kid. That trial ended up not going to court. He got off. He pled guilty, got no jail time and just a few years of probation, which is – it was just too much for me. I called someone that I really trusted in my life and I just cried and I cried and I cried. I’m like, I have all of this stuff going on. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I am. I don’t know what’s going on. But I think I’m going to hell and I think my family is never going to talk to me again.

First of all, she told me that I was being really dramatic and then she said, “I always wanted you to be whoever you are, but I didn’t know you would choose to be some tatted-up, pink haired, witch lesbian slut.” It’s kind of a funny thing now but it wasn’t at the time because she had hit on every single one of my core insecurities. But something subtle did shift in me, I think, and I started looking at my different options. And I was like okay on one hand, I can just like put an end to it, accept that I’m going to hell, accept that I will never have a family that loves me and I’ll never find anybody that loves me. God created a dud. He made a mistake. I just need to kill myself. I tried to kill myself before. That wasn’t great, so I, like, okay, I need to think of something else.

I can admit that this is who I am and I can give this a go. Maybe I am a tatted-up, crazy witch lesbian slut and maybe I just need to go be that person. So that’s what I did. Right after me that realization, I was I was done with college and I went back to Connecticut and that was a really really dark time in my life. and, like, the biggest barrier was just my physical location. Being back in a place where I just physically wasn’t safe, of course, I can’t be thinking about my identity. Of course, I’m not happy and exploring myself because my basic needs just aren’t met.

There was a year of just hating myself and doubting myself before I finally had the courage and the confidence and, frankly, the money to be able to pack up and move to New York and find that place where I was physically safe.

A lot of things have come together since they moved to New York. I am out and I’m proud. I am living in a communal home now with 10 other artists and they are amazing, compassionate and creative, and just truly amazing people. And I don’t need to hide myself from them. I’m out at work and I feel like I’m doing work that’s actually might make the world a better place. And everyone uses my pronouns at work. There’s no one in my life who would put their hands on me and there’s no one who I would let do that anymore and that’s huge for me. That’s something I never had before.

I love my life so much. It is something I never expected would happen. Not only am I am okay with who I am, not only am I tolerating who I am, I am so happy to be gay. I’m so happy despite any of my circumstances that happened to me before. And I just I wouldn’t trade this life even with all of the trauma and all the shit that happened because of where I am now. I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the world. So just keep fighting.