Hello comrades in care,

It’s been another difficult week in the world, punctuated (or perhaps buoyed) by some pretty great things. I’m reminded of Britchida’s piece “Something Wonderful”:

If you’re all too aware of the challenging things our country and world have been facing, but less aware of the victories, here are two run-downs of recent trans news that doesn’t suck and good queer news by KB Brookins and Ben Greene, respectively.

I want to start this newsletter in an unorthodox fashion by telling you about my day on Friday. It’s relevant to how it is we go about living in a world that is so deeply broken and hurts to look at and be a part of sometimes (most of the time?). It’s also admittedly a bit long and includes some of my reflections on the anti-trans discourse following the schol shooting in Minnesota. You can skip it if you just want to read the updates, which include some very very cool news and some pretty great offerings including a new free zine I think you’re really going to like.

[If you’re new to this newsletter because you’ve taken one of my trainings, I use this space to send out roughly monthly updates of offerings, resources / what I’ve been reading or listening to or watching, and some usually brief reflections on clinical practice and life. I understand how quickly inboxes can be overwhelmed with email and if you’d rather not receive this, you can scroll down to the bottom of this list and unsubscribe.]

Table of Contents

• Friday

• The Extra Big Update

• Other Big Updates

  • Training Recording Now Available On-Demand

  • New Zine and Website: Transness is Our Salve

  • Another Meaningful Year at Cape Cod Institute — A …

• Writings

• Closing Note on Resistance & Showing Up

• Final Note (I Promise): Yet Another Reason to Be H …

Friday

Let me tell you about my day this most recent Friday. I set my alarm for 6:30am so I could be up and ready for the weekly trans- and queer-centered chill bike ride I organize to local coffee shops. Before the ride, I met with a new friend who doesn’t have a bike but has been wanting to join the rides, and I was able to offer them use of the bike that one of our friends lent us for my spouse. This was their first coffee ride and we had two other folks who were relatively new join us, plus a smattering of some of our regular crew, who have become friends. We biked about 30 minutes each way, along the car-free rail trails that move through preserved nature trusts and behind homes and industry, and were welcomed enthusiastically by the owner and staff of a recently opened coffee shop. We enjoyed the just-chilly-enough morning weather that felt like autumn and caught up while we compared notes on our coffee drinks. Some folks made plans for the long weekend and we swapped humorous takes on various trans bathroom dramas and traumas we’d experienced.

I returned home and started preparing for some group facilitation I’ll be doing with the staff of a PFLAG chapter to help them acknowledge and process some emotions around sitting at a challenging both/and: being trans and queer people and people of color affected by the sociopolitical hostility we’re facing and also working to support families of trans and queer kids who are affected, as well, in similar and different ways. And to help them develop radical hope within this environment and sea of difficult feelings. I reached out to the team this spring or summer to offer this at no cost. They are wonderful people trying to make a tight budget work and making a huge difference in their city and state while carrying a lot of pressure in a world where there are no easy fixes for the folks they serve.

During some downtime, I opened up my web browser for some benign reason and facebook was auto-loaded. I saw that someone in our town was organizing a vigil for the school shooting in Minnesota. I have been deeply disturbed by the shooting, having spent the past week or so seeing photos of friends’ kids starting new school years, helping my clients adjust to the transition to Fall semester or to their kids’ new schedules, and hearing from teacher friends as they set up their classrooms. School shootings are always cruel beyond words. It felt like an extra layer of cruelty for this to be done during the back-to-school season, as it seemed to heighten the reverberations of feeling unsafe that follow mass shooting events. So I opened up the comment thread and was surprised to see my progressive town getting into a debate with a vocal minority of right-wing residents who were angry about the vigil (which had said nothing about gun rights, mind you). “Why don’t you hold a vigil for mental illness since that’s the cause of all this?” one person said. When challenged, he linked to a facebook post that I regretfully felt compelled to click.

I had heard that the shooter had a trans history (and potentially was detransitioning but I’m not sure and there’s been too much speculation about both of these pieces) and that the right wing had been eager to point out that we now have had multiple trans mass shooters, feeding their narratives of us as unstable. This bothered and concerned me already, but I was even more deeply shaken by the facebook link my community-member shared. It was a video of a mother (a seemingly white cisgender woman) livid that our society’s acceptance of trans people and openness to gender-affirming medical intervention had supported and created mental illness that was now putting the country’s children at risk. And to put it bluntly, this fucked me up, y’all. In this video I saw parental fear and desperation for answers to school violence tied to rage at my community (and especially regarding trans women who tend to be the largest target of this anti-trans fear-mongering). And to have that viewpoint lifted up by residents of my own town (where I generally feel very safe being proudly trans) promote such views was really activating for me. I spiraled a bit. As is all too easy (and by design), my alarm and sadness led me to further engage in social media, and I bypassed my barriers to accessing instagram to click through people’s stories about the school shooting and about trans people — all from perspectives I share (e.g., pro-trans rights, pointing out the false narratives, expressing grief, demanding action on gun violence), but still calling my attention to horrific shit and/or the right-wing perspectives that had sent me down this spiral in the first place. I felt simultaneously awful and half-dissociated as I moved through this content. After my allotted 15 minutes, my app blocker kicked in and knocked me out of this, thankfully.

Then I drew a bath. I texted a friend and colleague I had a work meeting scheduled with and asked if we could delay (then ultimately asked if we could push it to next week). I removed instagram from my phone and told myself I would take a break until Tuesday. I got a book from the shelf that my wife had been suggesting I read. I turned on Focus Buddy (this is a new tool in my digital freedom arsenal). And I chilled out as best I could. I was in that tub for like two hours. It was a beautiful day and I opened the window and could feel the breeze as I looked at the blue sky with a delightful amount of fluffy white clouds. I put on the new Blood Orange album. And I started reading my book.

I felt a little better, but still heavy. I shared a bit how I was feeling (from the tub) when my wife got home. She encouraged me to stay off social media and stay in the tub as long as I needed. I don’t see clients most Fridays and was grateful to myself for setting up my schedule this way.

I did eventually get out of that bath and started cooking with my wife. In the middle of that, we were visited by an infant care specialist I will call A for the sake of this write-up. He had biked over on his beautiful recumbent cycle (complete with an even more beautiful safety flag from Soundwinds that frankly looks like a piece of art). He was there to help us figure out how to get our house ready for the baby we’re expecting in November. We all sat in the living room together and imagined what life will look like this winter and next year, how our space and our family will transform. A is also trans and queer and just loves babies and caring for babies. He is so excited for us. I showed him two books we’d gotten — one from a friend (Hooray, What A Day!/¡Viva,Qué Día! by Sunny Allis) and one I’d pre-ordered as soon as I heard about it because it is illustrated by Kah Yangni (whose art, including Trans People Exist in the Future, I have at home and use often in my work). That book is Weird, Wonderful You by Zaila Avant-garde (who you might know as the basketball prodigy and national spelling bee winner from New Orleans). As we excitedly flipped through the books together, A said “oh my gosh, I know exactly what baby book I’m going to gift you all!” We also showed A the art we’ve purchased from Britchida and my friend from childhood Mala Hora specifically for our nursery and future child’s room.

After A left, my spouse and I finished cooking dinner and she asked me how I was feeling. I told her about how as A was talking to us at one point, I imagined writing all this out for y’all in this newsletter. How I wanted to share that this is exactly how I believe we get through the authoritarian drive and sociopolitical hostility toward our communities. We fill our lives with activities and people that are meaningful. We help each other. We raise babies and children together in worlds where queerness and gender diversity are normal and beautiful parts of human diversity. We cook food together and for each other. We move our bodies joyfully. We create spaces that are physically and emotionally safer for each other, and we protect that safety. We rest. We re-prioritize as needed. We connect with the natural world. We feel the hard feelings. And we know when to let them go or set them to the side. We look at the clouds in the sky. We listen to music. We meet new people with openness. We build community. We experience and celebrate art. We love each other.

And so here I am writing this all to you.

The Extra Big Update

If you read the above section, I spoiled my big announcement, but yes, my wife and I are having a baby! Our little one will arrive into this world already so loved and embedded in community this November. In a bit of trans and queer baby-making awesomeness, this baby has developed from one of my eggs and is being carried by my partner in her womb. (Also when I started testosterone in 2010 I was told I would be infertile and had to let go of any desire for biological children, but we now know better. The egg that made this baby was retrieved last year.) Our baby-making journey has been challenging and long and this pregnancy has been so welcome and also intense. Like so much of life, almost nothing about it has been straightforward, and my spouse and I have already learned so much from being parents to this future human. I appreciate the grace folks have had through the years of IVF (even as many folks didn’t know this was something we have been doing) and through this pregnancy as my availability for work has been fluid to say the least.

I’m currently scaling back all of my work outside of clinical practice and ongoing supervision/consultation in anticipation of parental leave. Once baby is here I will take a 12 week break from all work. My clients and supervisees/consultees know and we are firming up plans for our time apart. This is also why my most recent training on working with sociopolitical distress in trans clients was my last large training of 2025 (see below for details on accessing the recording of that). My current plan is to return to work gradually in late February. I hope that 2026 will be a generative year in terms of educational and consultation offerings, while also preserving space for me to be the dad I’ve dreamt of becoming for so, so long.

Other Big Updates

Training Recording Now Available On-Demand

On August 15, I offered a 2.5 hour training as a “part two” of sorts to my initial May training on Supporting Trans and Nonbinary Clients with (Understandable) Sociopolitical Distress. The initial training offered important foundations (e.g., general approaches, how to incorporate radical hope and empowerment, while bearing witness to difficult feelings). In this most recent training, I wanted to offer something more application-focused. I discussed specific manifestations of sociopolitical distress (i.e., grief, survivor’s guilt, suicidality, detransition fantasies, and increased dysphoria), and offered specific examples of how I conceptualize and respond to those. I also spoke more about how clinicians are affected by this and where we can find and build agency in making our work sustainable.

If you registered for the August training via eventbrite, you should have received an email with the link to access the recording at no extra charge. Please email me if you have not received that link. I am also working on adding the additional recorded pieces I promised and some written responses to the questions I wasn’t able to get to during Q&A.

If you did not previously register, that training is now available for purchase: transpsychologist.com/trainings#august-2025

New Zine and Website: Transness is Our Salve

Y’all, I am so thrilled to announce that Joonwoo Lee and I completed the zine for our multi-year research project looking at trans and nonbinary people’s experiences of healing from parental trauma. In addition to academic papers (the first of which will be published soon), Joonwoo and I knew from the beginning that we wanted to create free community-facing resources based on our results. So this zine focuses on one of our main findings: that transness and the pathways it opened up are sources of healing from the impacts of early parental trauma.

In the zine, we use de-identified participant quotes to illustrate the themes we describe. We also invited participants to share visual art and poetry that is relevant to their healing journeys and included that, as well.

Joonwoo and I also commissioned four new pieces from Britchida that were inspired by our findings and participants’ healing stories. I wrote about each of the new art pieces on my substack.

You can read the zine online for free at our new website, transnessishealing.net. The website also includes resources related to what facilitated healing for our participants (meaningful connection to community, actualizing trans identity, distancing from harmful family, and recovery through trauma therapy and self-directed healing work). We had enough funding to print 800 copies and cover domestic postage for up to 200 people. You can request free copies on the website, as well. We’re hoping to set up an option to cover costs or allow for donations so we extend our reach even farther. And we’ve had offers to translate the zine into four other languages! So even more is coming down the line.

It’s been so valuable to work with Joonwoo Lee on this project. He recently defended his dissertation (which grew from this project) and is on his predoctoral internship at at Mass General Brigham Hospital. Keep an eye out on the future Dr. Lee for some incredible work in the area of trans folks’ trauma healing (and more). I know he’ll be making a big impact on the field — he already has!

Another Meaningful Year at Cape Cod Institute — A Source of Radical Hope

This July, I was back at the Cape Cod Institute for a wonderful week of teaching. I was joined by more than 25 mental health and education professionals, spread across in-person and online attendees for fifteen hours of in-depth learning about working with trans and nonbinary adolescents and young adults. I love teaching at CCI. The leadership and staff of the institute are excellent and making faculty feel welcomed and supported, facilitate pretty freaking smooth real-time hybrid learning environments, and are committed to lifting up my work and improving the lives of trans young people who seek our care.

While teaching that course, the news broke that Kaiser in California was no longer providing gender-affirming surgery for folks under 19. The next day, multiple hospital systems in Connecticut announced that they were pausing all gender-affirming medical care for people under 19, including hormones and puberty blockers. We didn’t turn away from this heavy news — this is the reality that these folks, many of whom were new to providing care to trans young people, would be practicing in. Instead this seemed to motivate participants (and myself) to double down on our learning and investment in this area.

In addition to didactic lectures, I facilitated a number of small group and individual activities. I’ll mention just two of my favorites that are so important to understanding how we can do good work in such difficult context: First, participants designed resource maps for themselves, considering, looking up, and writing down external and internal resources they can access for themselves and provide to clients. Everyone was relieved and excited by how many resources are out there and also what they’re already bringing to this work. (I walk through this exercise in my August training if you’re interested.) Second, participants designed interventions for their practice settings that would nurture the development of their teen and young adult clients’ radical hope. This was so cool and was such a powerful reminder of the value of group learning. We all have so many different perspectives and skills and backgrounds, and thus we can be generative and creative in untold ways when we work together.

The commitment participants had for continuing to learn and the ideas they were ready to put into action upon leaving the course were incredibly inspiring, especially considering that for many this was the first education on trans and nonbinary youth they’d ever taken. Just like last year’s cohort, this group was a major source of my own radical hope. It’s amazing to think of each of them going out into their communities and making a difference in the lives of multiple trans young people. If you were in this year or last year’s course, thank you. Truly — thank you.

For what it’s worth, I just got the feedback back from participants, and for two years now, many folks have shared that this is one of the best trainings they’ve ever attended. I mention this because I hope to continue to offer this or similar courses through CCI and would love to see some of you there in the future!

Writings

I’ve not been as active on substack as I’d like. I hope that changes, but I’m also holding a lot of grace for myself given all the places my time and brain power are needed right now (see: challenging and exciting pregnancy, etc.). Still, I have written some since I last updated y’all:

Closing Note on Resistance & Showing Up

One thing that my Friday didn’t include that I do believe is a part of how we best move through these times is more direct resistance. Yes, joy is a form of resistance to and defiance of authoritarianism, especially trans joy. It’s also not enough. (See this episode of Code Switch and this piece by Ben Greene for more nuanced takes on joy as resistance.)

We’ve got to show up for resistance movements. And let’s be intentional about our resistance. In Sarah Kendzior’s most recent substack Q&A (shout out to my wife for introducing Kendzior’s writing to me), she notes that an important way to respond to authoritarianism is to not make the authoritarian(s) the center of your life or your movements.

It’s also important to resist normalization of authoritarianism. We cannot get used to military being in our cities, for example. We cannot accept as normal that the government is dictating healthcare offerings, particularly against expert guidance. We cannot tolerate the mass murder of civilians using our tax money and resources as a normal part of life. Keep showing your anger about all of these and more. There are weekly standouts in my town for Gaza. I have heard about regular rallies outside ICE detention facilities and would love for that to be a bigger movement (though many of these are deliberately placed in less accessible locales). I would love to see more frequent protests at the hospitals that have shut down their trans youth healthcare programs.

And we should actively normalize the things we want to preserve or build in our worlds. A friend of mine recently sent me a photo of her and her partners dropping their kid off for their first day of school. She’s wearing the Everything I Know About Love I Learned from Trans People shirt that I have shared before. She told me she’s really taken to heart my call for our allies to be extra vocal about supporting and loving trans people. I was so moved thinking of all the people who saw her wearing that, and what it might mean for them or what seed it might plant. Let’s be loud about how great trans people are and how much we care about trans kids, believe them, and want them to have access to affirming care and spaces.

Another point about resistance: It’s critical both psychologically and strategically to engage in resistance in spheres over which we have more direct influence. Direct action and local politics are huge here. I love the activists disrupting the movement of weapons shipments. And school boards are, as you likely already know, critical in trans rights battles. Run for your local committees and/or support folks with your values who do. Get involved with local politics. My wife and I have been following an increase in surveillance state behaviors from our (again: relatively progressive) town, including a plan to put in a license plate reader in downtown - we already have one on one of the main entrances into our city limits, unfortunately. You can read a piece by the ACLU about how these are used to track us and why they are incredibly dangerous tools in this world of rising fascism. My town’s plans are now on pause after residents got wind of this and voiced concerns. It’s been reaffirming to see that our anger about the state of things can actually be translated into action that makes a difference. More of this!

Finally, we need to ramp up our investing in safer areas for trans people and families and ways to get people to those places. This is something Kai Cheng Thom also noted in her response to the right-wing’s use of the shooting to further their claims of mass trans violence. This is not a call to abandon trans folks in the South or in red states or small towns. Hell no. This is me saying trans surviving and thriving will require a multi-pronged approach and a big one of those prongs is ensuring safer harbors and facilitating relocation, even as we continue to invest in resistance and community-building and care pathways in more hostile areas.

Final Note (I Promise): Yet Another Reason to Be Hopeful

I mentioned my weekly morning coffee ride at the beginning of this newsletter. And if you follow my writing, you’ve already heard about it. Well comrades, I have to admit something to you. When I started this ride, I was eager to get it going and it was a very casual endeavor. I also was not yet as informed or critical of AI and I used an AI image creator to make the logo (a coffee cup riding a bike and holding a pride flag). In the 16 months since, I’ve becoming highly critical of the use of so-called AI (and especially the normalization of its usage) and wanted to support an actual artist designing a frankly better logo for our group/ride. When I shared transparently about this in our community, people were enthusiastic to support this course-correct. A friend (Mollie Davis) who joins the rides regularly is a professional illustrator and offered to give us a discounted rate for the design. Multiple coffee shops that we visit on our rides immediately stepped up to cover the cost of the design. With crowdfunding from folks who participate in our rides, appreciate that we exist, and/or were happy to have us paying an artist and not contributing to the AI-slop-of-it-all, we were able to pay Mollie a non-discounted fee. And the results are incredible.

I’m glad I shifted my relationship to AI (or more accurately: large language models/LLM) as I learned more about it and how harmful it is on so many fronts. And I’m glad I reached out to the community to support this mission and that I am connected to a community that shares my values. Also I love that we now have a logo that centers the playfulness, diversity, connection to the natural world, and inclusivity that make our rides special.

(By the way, there are queer- and/or trans-centered cycling groups in many cities and communities. This was definitely not something new I came up with. In fact, our ride is specifically modeled after the East Bay Coffee Ride in California.) If cycling is accessible to you, I cannot recommend more strongly seeking out (or starting) a group like this.

As always, thank you for your ongoing support of my work and of trans communities. I believe in us. And one last time, a reminder to checkout transnessishealing.net!

Sebastian