Before I came out as trans, I wrote stories about “becoming your fursona,” or a furry-fied version of your “true self,” which were meant to encourage people who were hurting because who they were was not accepted by the people around them.
When I started writing these stories, I was still Mormon. And as someone who’d just entered the furry community, I was getting to know a lot of LGBT individuals, who honestly didn’t seem any different from the people around them despite what I’d been told. This put me in a quandary: How do I encourage people to be their “true selves" if their “true self” is someone the prophets have said is a pervert? [CN: Homophobia]
I had to choose one or the other.
Some of them, mostly orcs, boasted of their ancestors’ deeds and spoke of their pride in adopting those ancestors’ names. She had been so different—only sixteen, a boy in everyone’s eyes but her own, about to choose and declare her name before the khan and all the Mardu.
The khan had walked among the warriors, hearing the tales of their glorious deeds. One by one, they declared their new war names, and each time, the khan shouted the names for all to hear. Each time, the horde shouted the name as one, shaking the earth.
Then the khan came to Alesha. She stood before him, snakes coiling in the pit of her stomach, and told how she had slain her first dragon. The khan nodded and asked her name.
“Alesha,” she said, as loudly as she could. Just Alesha, her grandmother’s name.
“Alesha!” the khan shouted, without a moment’s pause.
And the whole gathered horde shouted “Alesha!” in reply. The warriors of the Mardu shouted her name.
-- The Truth of Names [CN: Violence]
There are those who would say that I made the wrong choice. But the only reason I had to choose to begin with, the only reason trans people’s existence in person or in stories is a political issue, is because the people who say that are terrible people.
And they are afraid that the people around them are not what they look like.