I can't speak for trans masculine or non-binary folks, but in my experience as a trans woman, the biggest barriers I’ve faced in sports are men's locker rooms.

I started playing sports at a very young age – from soccer and baseball to martial arts, for some 15 years. I was never 100 percent comfortable in a locker room, going back all the way to high school – it just wasn't quite the right place for me. The banter wasn't for me, the masculinity wasn't for me, and that was definitely significant in impacting my understanding of gender identity and expression.

I found hockey in college, and within a couple of years, I was playing, coaching and refereeing – I was eating it up. Then my transition started and some of those things started to fall off, in part because of time, but also because of the locker room attitudes. I just wasn't comfortable in some of those situations anymore.

Locker rooms are made unwelcoming by cis male athletes and many cis males period, who tie their masculinity to sports. They tie being good at football to how good of a man they are. There’s often a direct comparison of, "Hey, my manhood depends on being good at sports" or, in worst cases, "My manhood depends on my child being good at sports."

It creates this bravado, candidly bullshit environment that just isn't welcoming to anybody who isn't that cis-normative male pedestal person.

When I was starting to come out, I remember being in a hockey locker room, and hormones started doing their thing. I started wearing a sports bra to hockey and a friend of mine was like, "Why does it look like you're wearing a sports bra?"

And I was like, "Uh, cuz I am."

This wasn't an attack by any means – thankfully the response was, "Oh, okay, cool."

But, there's a lot of discomfort that comes from that suddenness of a moment like that.

Nobody is going through a transition just to be better at sports than women

I'm very fortunate that I've never felt any serious transphobia beyond the beginning of my football career. But the attacks against trans athletes and trans youth as a whole are really stressful because I see their impact on younger, queer folks.

I love that queer youth today are more visible and more comfortable than when I was growing up, as I wasn't able to come out until after college. I’m seeing people able to be themselves as youth and being able to take puberty blockers that prevent the mental anguish of having your body change in ways that don't fit you. 

So the debate against trans youth is really painful for me to watch because I see something I find very beautiful in these kids being who they're able to be, and then I see them being denied being able to do something that they love. I see their legitimacy questioned through debates on ‘winning’ and first off, nobody is going through a transition just to be better at sports than women. That's not a thing. 

Anybody who thinks it is, I encourage you to try one electrolysis session. I encourage you to look into what hormones do to your body and to you emotionally. I encourage you to experience the physical and emotional discomfort of a transition and you will very quickly realize that nobody's doing that to take your daughter's spot on the women's team. That is not happening. 

What access to sports does do though, is that it saves lives. It saves the lives of these kids who disproportionately harm themselves, and that is worth a spot on a high school swim team any day of the week. 

To trans kids today, I'd say "We see you. We love you. We are not going to stop fighting for you. You matter and you're important." 

And if I could travel back in time, I would tell my younger self, “You get there. You get to be yourself. You're going to find what you're looking for."

To those who view trans athletes as a threat: You're selling cis women short

As somebody who plays reasonably competitive football, and who won a national title last year with my team top shelf, I would like to tell those who view trans athletes as a ‘threat’ that: “You're selling cis women short”.

You're saying "No, just because you're trans, nobody can compete with you".

I'm telling you, you are wrong. When I walk onto that field, I am by no means the best athlete there, even though I am taller than most. I am by no means the best one there, even though I'm faster than many.

I am not taking up the spot of somebody who cannot physically compete with me, that's not what's happening. I get out-physicaled all the time. My teammate Nance routinely runs me over even though she's half my height. I have teammates who out-strength me. I have teammates who out-jump me.

There is this misconception in national discourses, that trans athletes have an "advantage". But it’s been scientifically shown that that ‘advantage’ goes away after HRT. If you have issues with that, I invite you to take a peek at the trans masculine community, which is doing amazing things in sports.

Just because I am trans, or just because I had this infusion of testosterone, by no means does that translate into sports performance. What translates into sports performance is hard work, some natural talent (a lot of which I personally do not have), and being willing to commit oneself to that sport.

Finding family within Team Trans has reignited my love for hockey

I first discovered ice hockey in college and later got to meet Team Trans – the first all-transgender ice hockey team in the world. The uniqueness of Team Trans immediately reignited my love for hockey and made me a lot more comfortable with the sport. I've been playing regularly again, and go to every event.

Finding that family has been arguably one of the highest points of my entire sports career, and I’ve been exploring other queer spaces while getting out of the more toxic masculine spaces that were not personable for me because I just don't have a lot in common.

I discovered flag football when I moved to San Francisco a couple of years ago, and it’s been a lot of fun to take my sports career to another level with another community through a level of competition I was previously unfamiliar with. It's reinvigorated my love for the sport.

While I don't typically find traditional notions of masculinity and femininity on women's or co-ed teams, I do find them in men’s teams during tournaments. It very quickly becomes this macho, pissing match and it's not only in the locker room anymore. It's just out in the open air – cis men who tie their entire identity into being good at football: they're a lot.

There was a brief bit of transphobia when I first started playing flag football, and that was not fun. It was my very first game, in a new league and new place. My team immediately came to my defence and called the person out in that moment.

As far as euphoria goes, I get it from just being able to do a thing that I love, while being myself – wearing a tank top and leggings, playing sports, going out there and not having to hide. It’s euphoric to be on the ice, wearing a uniform that indicates my transness, and being comfortable while playing, learning and teaching. It is unlike anything I've done in my transition beyond gender-affirming surgery.

It’s also been great to be playing sports in spaces that are either explicitly trans in the case of Team Trans, or are queer like the Earthquakes. I am the only woman on the Earthquakes if I remember correctly, so that is a fairly masculine locker room but it also is a fairly queer locker room, which makes that a little bit more of a safe space.

Sports have been a huge part of my life and I sucked at them growing up so I never identified myself by playing sport. I’m glad to have that part of my identity back.