Cairo Nevitt: I describe myself as the Phoenix: "I can rise from the ashes. I bounce back, despite many setbacks."

Credit: @matt__marsh

My life has been challenging, but thank God there's a part of me that likes a challenge. I describe myself as the Phoenix: "I can rise from the ashes. I bounce back, despite many setbacks."

I'm British, Caribbean and Jamaican. I was born in the United Kingdom, and moved to Spain, when I was 11. I lived in a tiny little town, and experienced a lot of racism and bullying for being an outsider. Growing up, I definitely had gender dysphoria but didn’t know it at the time, as I didn’t have examples of people like me. I'm also dyslexic, and education hasn't always been easy for me. So, I was sat in a classroom all day being told I was a failure. 

In school, sports became a tool that just helped me feel like I could accomplish something. Outside of school, it was a way of connecting to people because I'd be very quiet in the classroom. I had really low confidence and a lot of pent up energy and sports helped me release some of that energy. It channelled it in a much more positive way, so that it could be constructive rather than destructive.

When I came back to the UK, the schools were doing GCSE and I became a secondary school dropout by systematic default, which was a horrible thing to have lingering on my identity. At 25, I hit my lowest point because of a knee injury. I couldn't walk up and down stairs, and was bed-bound for a couple of months while I was waiting for the physio. During that time, I realised that I'm transgender.

So my fitness journey restarted from an injury and progressed into self discovery through rehabilitation. Once I came out of physio, I bought my gym membership as I knew it was a way to start naturally transitioning because the waiting times for gender-affirming care are really long.

A shedding of skin and layers: I was in a vulnerable state when I started transitioning

The relationship between gender and sports for me at the beginning meant seeing what I could do to make my shoulders broader, make my hips narrower, feel more masculine – a physical way to kick dysphoria's arse. 

I was in a vulnerable state when I started transitioning. Earlier, I was a workaholic and then I had multiple vitamin deficiencies and a knee injury, and was written off work for a year. Through bodybuilding I was able to find strength within my body physically, while also strengthening my mind, my soul, and my energy.

It gave me the resilience that we sometimes need for dealing with the external obstacles imposed on us for being trans. Most people might laugh at that because they see bodybuilders as these muscular people with all these stereotypes that aren't always true. But you don't have to be a competitive bodybuilder for bodybuilding to be a source of empowerment. 

There were parts of my training that I almost find spiritual – like a shedding of skin and layers, a shedding of beliefs that society has put on you.

During my first time round at the gym, I didn't know what I was doing and didn't have an absolute clue. It was just 'pick and mix' in the exercises. But I was showing up and knew that I wanted to be in that space. Eventually I got a personal trainer, and that was truly revolutionary – I Iearned how to do everything properly. I had really clear goals, and went on to have some of the best coaches.

Now, I'm head coach at the Misfits and I prioritise LGBTQ+ people. I'm also building a fitness app for LGBTQI+ people, with language that’s really personalised and tailored – by the community and for the community. 

I'm really passionate about what fitness does for mental health. If we can win the battle within, it's easier to go outside and deal with the other things. I think back to the time when I was ill, and how the app could have helped me then. I wish I had a big bro and some sort of guidance in my time in the gym.

People think trans athletes are 'disadvantaging' everybody. That’s not true.

People are making big opinions about trans athletes and so much research needs to be done to make sports a space of comfort as opposed to surveillance. There hasn’t been enough investment financially, or in time and dedication that has been taken with respect and care to explore how we can make sports better and fairer for everybody.

When I told an organization that I was trans, they literally just said that I couldn’t compete.

I said, "I'm willing to cooperate with you. I'm willing to do whatever I have to do. I'm willing to even be the guinea pig for what works and what doesn't work.”

But it was a flat ‘no’ from their side.

I think having a space to have real conversations would be a big help, rather than just going "No, you don't belong here." 

It doesn't matter if you're a trans man or a trans woman, people seem to think we're always 'disadvantaging' everybody. These perceptions sometimes come from people judging us from a place of ignorance; sometimes it is blatant transphobia; sometimes it's just that no one's done it yet, so they don't know what to expect.

I hope that in the future, we can make an informed decision, rather than just closing the door on us trans athletes. I'm hoping they would have the open-mindedness to be more like, "Okay, we don't have the answers right now. But how can we?"

That's what I want to hear, and I don't hear that being said as much.

Mainstream media has been really scandalizing transgender people and transgender athletes, and people don't realize how it impacts our real lives.

Let's be real, there's only a tiny percentage of trans people who are professional athletes. In general, most people just want to access sports on a community level, or for their mental health. Whether you're cis or trans, no one is being disadvantaged in any way, shape, or form by having a trans person participate.

I’ve often found a real sense of camaraderie with cisgender bodybuilders

When people are being really angry about trans athletes in the media, it creates a licence for everyone to exclude trans people from coming into their sports spaces, especially in contact sports. This fear-mongering behaviour does have a real impact on how the community is treated, because people become more likely to commit a hate crime against trans people. They’re making us out to be a threat when we're not. You're not endangered by a trans person. 

People would think that I would have had a hard time as a trans bodybuilder, but behind the scenes of these competitions, I’ve found a real sense of camaraderie, brotherhood, and sisterhood in my conversations with cisgender bodybuilders. There was a lot more support than I believed there was, and sometimes one has to be in that space to change hearts and minds. If you're not there, then they can't feel your energy, and are just oblivious.

In a weird way, as an actor, I've always wanted to be cast as an athlete or in an action film, because I resonated with those characters. Now, I’m doing that in real life as myself, and that's been really empowering. 

During competitions, I have been genuinely blown away by how many people were watching all my stories every day while I was training, and how many people got their whole gym to watch when I was winning. I genuinely wanted to do it for my community, to show what we can do and what is possible. 

We sometimes don’t know what is possible until someone else goes and does it, or until we see what is actually possible by breaking down that particular door and taking up space and owning that space. So for me, it was a stage and I wanted to own that stage and show people what we can achieve. 

I used to sleep the days away, but now the possibilities in living are endless

When I was around the age of 14, I really suffered with depression. I would just sleep the days away. I didn't believe there was any hope of a future. I just couldn't imagine or see it. So thinking of where I was back then to where I am now, the possibilities are endless. The most important thing that I would want my past self to know is that:

No matter what happens, you just have to keep believing in yourself. Even if you're trying to take the next step forward, and you don't know if the step is going to appear, you just have to do it and have this almost blind faith, and just be relentless. 

Never let anyone else determine your worth: that's something I've learned as I've gotten older. From relationships to job validation, I used to let other people assert my worth. Now, it's the other way around. I have to make sure my relationship with myself is good, and I need to know that my worth is determined by me.

I believe that when we are operating from that place, the world starts to mirror us and people are more respectful, and they do understand.

I would also tell my younger self that:

You're capable of anything that you put your mind to. Just believe in yourself, be relentless. Where there's a will, you'll find a way, and if not, you will make a way. Just keep being around people who lift you up. Keep going with your intuition and keep seeking people who uplift you and make you feel good and can see and give you your worth. Because you're worth it. 

Sometimes we need to know that we're worth it ourselves. As any person, you deserve to be happy, you deserve to be loved, and you deserve also to be successful. So don't hold yourself back. Go for it. If you're gonna go for it, go all in, hundred percent. Give it everything.

Previous
Previous

Wren: Strong women beat me before I transitioned, and continue to do so now

Next
Next

Seraphim Sol: My wrestling and drag borrow from each other