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Mental Health and WellnessTrans Health

Op-Ed: I’ve Been an Outcast My Entire Life

I’ve been an outcast my entire life, here’s what it’s been like.

I learned that I am stronger than I ever thought possible. At an early age, I got really schooled by authority figures that I wasn’t going to be anything, let’s start there. That said, I have CPTSD, complex post-traumatic stress disorder. When that manifests for most is in childhood. That said, I did not have the best childhood. It wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t all good — at all for me. I grew up feeling like people were around, but I didn’t feel like they cared or considered my feelings. I felt very emotionally neglected as a child. I was sent to my room to make things easier for other people almost every single day.

When I say that, I do not at all expect anyone who hasn’t experienced that to fully comprehend the level of what I just said. In my formative years, I spent a lot of time at home by myself in my room. Because I wasn’t the favorite. Every day, I was reminded of that and treated very differently from my cisgender male sibilings.

So how did that actually work for me to retain my sanity? Well, when you go to school, you’re like, “Wow, okay, there are other people around. Let me try to be buddies.” But if you move around a lot, like I did, that’s hard, right? Because you don’t have consistency with friends at school, and you don’t have consistency at home.

Important to note for context, when I was born, I was a surprise. My parents were younger, they already just had my older brother but they weren’t ready for me to come about so soon after. My father was not mature enough for two children at that stage in his life. He was an alcoholic, and they had a lot of their own issues that absolutely affected my childhood development. I have a lot of memories of my mom picking me up when my dad took me to the bar and her crying. I have a lot of memories of my mom crying when he would stumble in at home or when he just wouldn’t even come home. So I have a lot of those types of memories.

When I‘d’ get to school, I’d be so happy to just be around other kids, and I just wanted to hang out and have fun. I didn’t really fit in a whole lot of places except for where I was useful, right? So sports or TV tech, things of that nature. I only had friends who saw what they could use me for, and I never clocked it because I have this real big thought that I’m on the spectrum. I’m very self-aware now at 42, but as a kid, I didn’t really have that self-awareness. I was just going through the world thinking I had friends, but realizing that I just had people around who, from a young age, saw that I could do certain things and that they could benefit from them.

Then that translated when I went into college. It was the same. I was really susceptible to bad treatment and naive because I’d never had a relationship before. So I fell for the first person who showed me any attention, and that later turned out to be a horrific life experience.

How did I bring that upon myself? I wanted to be a really supportive partner. My only example of this was how I saw my mother treat my father. That’s what I thought a partner had to endure to be supportive. I grew up in a patriarchal household and it did me no favors in the long run. That didn’t set me up for success at all as an AFAB person. I learned that later on, when I tolerated abuse, dismissiveness, neglect, all of that stuff that I don’t tolerate anymore.

Then you grow up, you become smarter, you take on a profession, you have more skills, and yet you’re still not understanding that the people around you who say they’re your friends are really thinking, “Hey, this guy’s smart. I live in LA. I want to be famous for something. Maybe I should just stay floating around and act like I’m a friend.” But really, the only reason they’re hanging around is that they can see that you’re smart and you know some things that they don’t, and maybe they can hit you up for some strategy here and there.

I finally picked up on that many years ago in my adult life and started telling people, “I don’t exist to work. I thought we were going to hang out to have fun.”

What I realized is that I’ve always been an outcast, but no one has always treated me like that outright. They’ve made it appear as if I was just enough to feel like I should stay around. When you get in relationships where people treat you like you’re just enough — like you matter only so much, and they’ll keep you around, but they’ll starve you of emotional support — you start to go, “Why do you think you can do that? Why has everyone in this world thought that they could do that? And why is it that you all actually do that to anyone?”

If we all talk about inclusion and all of this stuff, it’s not a buzzword. It’s an action word. Inclusion is an action, which I have felt has not existed in my life for a very long time. That’s why I speak on it a lot now. Even living in Hollywood here, it’s a bunch of middle school, childish, mean-girl behavior all the time. They’ll invite you to something, then un-invite you which is super mean and hurtful. Then they’ll smile in your face and talk about you behind your back as if it they think word does not get around quickly.

If you’re a real, honest person, you can’t exist and thrive in circles of fakeness and people who only want to keep you around for just enough of what they need. Reciprocation is everything. Even as an outcast, I find myself having to remind others that I am also a human being too. If I feel neglected or disrespected in my life by anyone, I do myself a disservice to tolerate it.

That’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been around a lot of low-vibe people, and it’s not been fun. People are so mean to trans people. I will say it till the day I die. And when I die, please don’t jump on the bandwagon and say that you did anything about changing that in the world for people. Right now, the whole world is becoming desensitized to the suffering of actual children.

The fact that people are so apathetic to trans people says a lot about the direction society and humanity are on track to go. Every day that you dismiss someone, you lower your own energy. Any day you neglect someone, you lower your own energy. Any day you make someone feel like they don’t belong somewhere, they absolutely do, you lower your own energy and karma.

The apathy toward the suffering of transgender people socially is really sad. It’s really sad to be surrounded by a world and feel alone in it all the time.

I can be happy and still sit with that sadness because I have for over 10 years now, since transitioning. Regardless of how much I say, a cis person might watch this, think nothing of it, not engage with it, not share, not actually learn from it. There’s only so much steam I have for the education of the ignorant.

To be an outcast in this world, people think that the ones they outcast are their entertainment. They invite them around to make fun of them, to mock them. They don’t really want certain people in their lives other than to entertain them.

For what reasons?

It has to be insecurity, simply because those who are productive and content in life do not behave in that manner. People who are grateful for your presence don’t behave that way. People who understand the suffering of others don’t treat people like that.

But there are a lot of people in this world who go to church every Sunday and still treat people like that. You’re good with the outcasting. You’re good with the shame. But you’re not good with the self-reflection of it.

To be an outcast in this world has been sad for 42 years. But it’s great I’ve made it this far. We’ll see how the rest of life goes.

I’ve always had faith in myself, always will. My faith in humanity right now though is not that of which I have for myself.

This world should show love to trans people because we’re not the outcasts. We were actually the ones put here for you all to learn. To really learn what humanity is all about. Think about that.

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About Rev. Dylan Thomas Cotter:

Dylan Thomas Cotter is a prominent gay transgender activist, PR expert, motivational speaker, and author known for his memoir Transgender & Triggering: The Life of Dylan Thomas Cotter, which details his journey through identity, transition, and resilience in Hollywood, appearing in major publications like Vice, Rolling Stone, Out Magazine, Inked Magazine, and Truthout amongst others. He leverages his extensive background in marketing and brand strategy across tech, entertainment, and fashion to amplify diverse voices and champion authenticity and self-expression.