In recent days, I've found myself grappling with a wave of anxiety that I couldn't quite pinpoint. This feeling has led me to question my worth and label even minor mistakes as failures. After some introspection, I finally identified the source of my distress.

My journey of self-discovery regarding my non-binary transgender identity began during the COVID-19 lockdown. At that time, I was already in a relationship with my fiancé, who had been my boyfriend for a year. When I came to terms with my identity, I shared it with him, making it clear that he was free to leave if he wished. Although he didn’t fully understand my journey, he chose to stay and learn, something for which I will always be grateful. He embraced my new pronouns, my chosen name, and my evolving style—essentially, all aspects of my transition.

Before diving deeper into my story, I want to touch on my relationship with his family. It was minimal; we hardly had a connection, but I felt respected and welcomed in their home. I engaged in pleasant conversations with them, even if they didn’t see me as a permanent fixture in their son's life, especially given that we started dating in high school. His mother often expressed her doubts about our long-term relationship, but I brushed it off, knowing time would tell. It's essential to note that she is a devout Christian, and her attitude grew increasingly toxic as time progressed.

This toxicity escalated after my fiancé learned about my transgender identity. I decided to announce my truth publicly on Facebook, where his family was included in my friend list. They saw my post, and looking back, I sometimes wish I had kept it to myself.

The aftermath of my announcement was chaotic. His mother confronted my fiancé, questioning him about my post and whether he knew the truth. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, which lingers to this day. He was unsure how to respond, and I advised him to tread carefully to avoid further conflict. As seniors in high school living with our parents, we didn't want to add fuel to the fire. His mother dismissed my identity as merely a phase.

The real turning point came when she insisted he break up with me. I became furious, feeling utterly disregarded for the two years I had been in his life. She acted as if I had blindsided him with this information, even though he had known for a year. The emotional toll was immense, and I found myself losing sleep over the situation. Desperate to confront her, I walked to her house in the sweltering heat, determined to address my feelings directly.

When I arrived, she let me in, and I seized the moment to speak to her alone. In Spanish, I asserted, “My identity is not a phase, and I love your son.” She responded with, “I know you do,” but quickly undermined my assertion by calling us “great friends.” My heart sank, and I felt a wave of nausea. She continued to suggest that if we ever broke up, it would be okay, as though my love for her son was temporary. I insisted that he was my only partner and that I wasn't looking for anyone else.

Her dismissive comments were deeply hurtful. She implied that relationships are fleeting, and that I would eventually find someone else, which infuriated me further. I left her home, replaying our conversation in my mind for weeks, and the anxiety only increased.

The situation was compounded by my fiancé's older brother, who echoed his mother's sentiments. I reached out to him via text, but his passive-aggressive remarks only fueled my frustration. He suggested that I would eventually find someone better, which felt belittling given my two-year relationship with his brother. Such statements felt demeaning and dismissive of the love I had for my fiancé.

It's crucial for you, the reader, to understand that this family is not kind. Their behavior has been harmful, not just to me but to others as well. His mother’s judgmental nature and the way she treated her son were toxic long before I entered the picture. Their insistence on appearances and materialism permeated their relationships, and I often felt like an outsider in their world.

In the weeks that followed, we stopped discussing the turmoil. I buried my feelings, focusing on my identity struggles, which felt overwhelming. When I visited my fiancé, his mother mostly stayed in her room, and I found solace in his space. I loathed being in her presence but cherished the moments spent with him.

Eventually, his mother began attending a religious class and hosting live sessions on social media, where she often emphasized her son’s “girlfriend.” This felt like a deliberate attempt to erase my identity and put me in danger, as our community was not particularly accepting of transgender individuals. My appearance, although not on testosterone at the time, clearly indicated my queer identity, which made her actions even more reckless.

My 19th birthday was a low point. I wanted to celebrate quietly with my fiancé, but his mother threw a party on the same day. It felt like a violation of my special moment, and I ended up venting to my cousin in tears. My frustration boiled over, and I expressed my anger toward my fiancé, even though he was not at fault. That day solidified my contempt for his mother.

In the weeks that followed, their behavior only worsened. His mother sent my fiancé hurtful messages, accusing him of being ungrateful. Meanwhile, they threatened to take back a car that belonged to us, which we had invested significantly in. In a moment of desperation, I turned to my father, who had his own shortcomings but ultimately supported me. He helped us secure a new vehicle, relieving a significant burden.

When my fiancé’s mother learned about the new car, she backed off, sensing that her control was waning. My fiancé cut ties with his family of his own volition, a choice I supported. While I never wished for him to sever contact, it became necessary for his mental well-being.

All of this turmoil has contributed to my ongoing anxiety. It’s a culmination of experiences over the past five years, and I struggle with feelings of self-worth and acceptance. Despite these challenges, I am actively working on my healing journey and hope to continue making progress. If anyone else finds themselves in a similar situation, know that you are not alone—my heart goes out to you.