A Message to My Trans and Nonbinary Siblings, for When It Feels Like You’re Falling

March 3, 2025

By Eli Lurie Sobel

Big role models can be small. I’m thinking about one friend of mine in particular who has so much to teach me. He’s two years old, and recently, he took a really scary fall backwards down the stairs. By some miracle, his mom caught him, and though he wasn’t hurt, but he was still incredibly frightened. As he was screaming and crying in his mom’s arms, he kept repeating, “I’m not okay, I’m not okay.”

I continue to be stunned by the self-awareness that he was able to show at such a young age: to name that he wasn’t alright and that he needed someone to be there with him while he recovered. Since he took his tumble, I’ve been reflecting on how we live in a culture that encourages pushing through. Our world moves so fast that it often feels like we need to set aside our pain or fear so that we can move on to the next thing, whatever that may be. This pressure can be especially strong for activists, advocates, educators, and community caregivers who feel like there’s so much to do that their work will never be done. Even if it’s a self-imposed pressure, so many of us feel called to set aside our own needs in service of the greater good that we are striving for.

The reality of living through today’s hailstorm of anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric is that it feels like falling backwards down the stairs, and it might do us all a lot of good to name that we simply aren’t okay. If you’re already doing this: I hugely respect and admire the bravery it takes. But if you’re like me and find it hard to acknowledge when you’re struggling, consider this your invitation.

The attacks against LGBTQ+ people, especially trans and nonbinary people, are so frequent these days that I find myself feeling like I can’t even catch my breath before the next one hits. I feel an urgent awareness of all the change I want to make that I don’t stop to process things internally before moving on to act. But at a time when hateful speech and policies are both so abundant and so personal, I owe it to myself and my community to follow in my friend’s tiny footsteps and name that I’m just… not okay. Only then can I ask myself what I need. Only then can I begin to seek out what I need. And only from a full cup can I pour for others.