January 23
They marked my identification papers today.
The clerk said it was an administrative matter. Nothing to worry about. The mark doesn’t change who I am. It merely tells those examining my papers who the authorities believe I am.
It’s a small mark. But, still.
February 2
My cousin received a letter informing her that she can no longer teach at the university.
New directives forbid people like us from having positions of influence.
February 12
Books written by, or about, us are disappearing from book shelves. Public libraries and universities have been instructed to remove any material that might be deemed supportive of people like us.
The bookshelves remain full. But we are mentioned less and less.
February 27
The newspapers are saying that restricting our rights is necessary to protect the social good.
We’re described as dangerous, dishonest and morally corrupt. They speak as though our mere presence threatens the natural order.
March 8
My doctor says she may soon be unable to continue treating me.
My medical needs haven’t changed. But you see, there’s this new directive.
March 19
There are more places where we’re no longer welcome.
Certain schools. Certain government buildings. Certain public facilities. Certain professions. Certain parts of ordinary life.
Officials say the restrictions are limited. Each one concerns only a narrow issue.
Identification papers. Military service. Books. Medicine. Public facilities. Employment.
If you look at each restriction separately, perhaps it seems like a small thing. But together they form a map of all the places where we’re gradually being told we may no longer exist.
April 5
My neighbor says I’m frightening myself unnecessarily.
After all, this is a civilized country, she tells me. We have laws. We have courts. We have churches. We have decent people.
She says no one is coming to take me away.
Perhaps she’s right.
But still, how much of a person’s life may be taken before she’s permitted to become alarmed?
April 20
There were two men in a car parked in front of my house all morning. They looked official. Am I wrong to be worried?
May 12
I placed a small suitcase beneath my bed tonight.
I felt foolish doing it.
The shops opened this morning. People went to work. Children played outside. Nothing terrible happened.
But the authorities issued another directive.
June 2
Two of my friends have managed to secure visas to leave the country. They say that we should all be leaving. But how bad can it get? This is a civilized country, right?
July 4
There are rumors of camps being built. I’m not sure exactly who they’re for. Probably nothing to worry about.
August 1
Today I was detained. They said it was an issue with my papers. I tried to explain to them that they had changed my papers in accordance with the new directives. But it just seems to have confused the issue.
August 25
I’m afraid to leave home at this point. I’m afraid of being asked for my papers. I’m afraid of being detained again. I’m afraid of these camps I keep hearing about.
I don’t know what to do.
… in case it wasn’t clear, I’m a transgender woman in Texas in 2026.
