How tattoos helped me reclaim the power of my queer & trans body

The number one activity my friends and I were looking forward to during the initial post-vaccine portion of the pandemic was getting new tattoos. In 2021, I got my third:  the phrase “…I’m still working on maintaining the will to stay alive for myself” on my forearm. 

Where I live in Maine, 2021 marked the year of the highest rate of trans people dying by suicide in the state. The trans community as a whole in the United States has disproportionately higher rates of suicide, but because people hear this without unpacking the fact that it’s due to oppressive systems, they blame trans people for their own suffering and perpetuate similar tropes in entertainment media.

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It gets exhausting having to return to the data over and over again to make our invisible wounds clearer to people who don’t understand. It gets exhausting when I share my history with suicidality and how it correlates with my queerness and transness, whether I like it or not. 

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However, in the midst of the exhaustion, it is nice to have visual markers on my skin as a reminder of reclamation and the power of my queer and trans body. My tattoos help make me visible and make people know that I am alive in my Black trans body. It’s like a f*** you, I’m not going anywhere.”

My tattoos make my internal healing journey visible too. 

I am by no means original in choosing to get markings on my body in affirmation of my gender and sexuality. And that is a good thing. Body modification has existed since the dawn of time and is even sacred in some cultural and religious traditions. It’s a fact that is liberating when it comes to deconstructing “professionalism” and what’s “appropriate” or “pure” through the visuals on one’s skin.

There are symbols that were used to harm queer people that have since been reclaimed with acts of pride as tattoos (e.g. the pink triangle). During the AIDS crisis, queer and trans people got “SILENCE = DEATH” tattoos to speak out against the medical homophobia and transphobia towards those diagnosed with HIV/AIDS. 

During this ongoing pandemic of COVID-19, tattoos have provided a sense of autonomy. Decorative scars, although they do not cure us, can make us feel good and alive. 

Some may consider getting a tattoo as a self-injurious act, but I believe it is important to deconstruct binary definitions of pain, similar to how we actively deconstruct binaries in other facets of existence. There is also an intimacy tattoos bring, especially considering how often we find safety and bravery in our community for being so loving and open. 

Even when people get tattoos that they regret – shout out to my friends who criticize their J.K. Rowling-inspired tattoos now – or those who get one “just because,” it’s still a piece of us for others to see. A lot of us are learning to destroy the mechanism of “fitting in” for survival when it comes to queerness and transness. What better way to break the mold than to get permanent stains that keep us here? 

If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org. The Trans Lifeline (1-877-565-8860) is staffed by trans people and will not contact law enforcement. The Trevor Project provides a safe, judgement-free place to talk for youth via chat, text (678-678), or phone (1-866-488-7386). Help is available at all three resources in English and Spanish.