As I wear what I want to affirm my gender and build myself out of years of misunderstanding and cycling frustration, confusion, and sadness, I take selfies more often now to represent it better to myself. But today is TDOR, and I saw the portraits of all those other trans people doing the same, and now my own portrait becomes a sombre, melancholy piece. I felt the weight of their deaths, that these great people were subject to such extreme measures of racism, sexism, and fear. The act of rebellion that is being trans is an undertaking which also sheds one’s own cisprivilege for the vulnerability of being, opening one to a media library full of questions and doubts. The truth they lived came with a price.