<p>Born in the serene coastal town of Mankumban, Sri Lanka, my life was thrown into chaos before I could even form my first memories. At just three months old, my family fled the civil war tearing through the country and sought refuge in India. We settled in the bustling city of Madurai, Tamil Nadu, where my childhood unfolded. Despite the hardships that brought us there, I spent a happy childhood in Madurai, though my path was far from ordinary. </p>.<p><strong>A childhood of innocence & struggle </strong></p>.<p>Madurai, with its vibrant culture and bustling streets, became my home. My childhood was filled with moments of joy and discovery, but I always felt different from the boys around me. While they played cricket or roughhoused, I preferred games that involved dolls, dressing up, and mimicking feminine behaviours. Back then, I didn’t understand why I felt this way; I only knew that behaving like a girl felt natural. </p>.<p>This difference, however, was not welcomed by those around me. My family scolded me for my behaviour, trying to mould me into the “right” kind of boy. Outside my home, I faced an even harsher reality. A neighbour exploited my innocence and femininity, abusing me in ways I couldn’t understand at the time. He wasn’t the only one — others saw me as vulnerable and took advantage of my gentle nature. Too young and confused to comprehend these sexual violations, I silently endured. </p>.<p><strong>A new beginning in Germany </strong></p>.<p>At the age of 10, my family decided to reunite with my father, who had been living in Germany since 1991. This decision marked the beginning of a new chapter, though the journey itself was fraught with challenges. Missing documents kept us in limbo for almost a year as we moved from Madurai to Colombo, waiting for clearance. The uncertainty was exhausting but like many Sri Lankan refugees, we clung to the hope of a better future. </p>.<p>When we finally reached Germany, the challenges took on a new form. The cultural shock was immense, and the language barrier made it difficult to integrate. School became a battleground where I faced relentless bullying for my feminine behaviour. Classmates mocked me, calling me schwul — a derogatory term for gay — and even resorted to physical violence. My high-pitched voice and soft demeanour became reasons for ridicule, and I was frequently beaten. </p>.<p>At home, the harassment continued. My father was deeply disappointed by my behaviour, and his lack of acceptance added to my struggles. The judgement and criticism I faced in both public and private spaces made my teenage years a time of immense pain and confusion. </p>.<p><strong>Discovering myself </strong></p>.<p>At sixteen, everything changed when I stumbled upon stories of trans women on social media. It was a revelation that finally gave me the language to understand myself. I realised that I was not gay, as society had tried to convince me, but a transgender woman. For the first time, I felt seen and validated. </p>.<p>The decision to begin my transition was both empowering and terrifying. Transitioning meant facing resistance at school, at home, and in society, but I was determined. Despite the obstacles, I felt a sense of liberation as I started to live authentically. </p>.<p><strong>Struggles in love & life </strong></p>.<p>The road to self-acceptance was far from smooth. Along the way, I sought love and acceptance in relationships, hoping to find a partner who would see and cherish me for who I was. Sadly, many of these relationships ended in heartbreak. Men I trusted took advantage of my innocence, leaving me with scars — both emotional and physical. Even today, I struggle with trust and anxiety, but these experiences have taught me valuable lessons about resilience and self-worth. </p>.<p>Amid these challenges, the transgender jamath (community) became my sanctuary. It offered me the love, support, and sense of belonging that I had longed for. The jamath not only helped shape me into the woman I am today but also gave me the confidence to face a world that often seeks to marginalise us. </p>.<p><strong>Overcoming bureaucratic battles </strong></p>.<p>Another significant challenge was legally affirming my identity. Changing my name and gender on official documents was an uphill battle. The process was riddled with bureaucratic delays and societal prejudice, but I persevered. After years of effort, I finally held documents that reflected my true identity. It was a moment of triumph — a tangible symbol of my journey toward self-empowerment. </p>.<p><strong>A new chapter & a new purpose </strong></p>.<p>At 26, I made the decision to return to school, determined to build a future for myself. Today, I am studying Preventive Management and Dental Hygiene, which align with my passion for helping others and contributing positively to society. </p>.<p>In 2019, a documentary by 101 India on YouTube brought my story to a global audience. The film, which highlighted my journey and struggles, gave me a platform to speak out on behalf of the LGBTQIA+ community. The overwhelming response to my story made me realise the power of my voice. Since then, I have been advocating for acceptance, equality, and visibility for people like me. </p>.<p><strong>Reflection & hope </strong></p>.<p>Looking back, my journey from Mankumban to Madurai to Germany has been one of immense pain but also immense growth. I’ve faced displacement, abuse, rejection, and heartbreak, but I’ve also discovered resilience, self-love, and a purpose greater than myself. </p>.<p>Today, I am proud of the woman I have become. My scars remind me of the battles I have fought, but they also symbolise the strength that has carried me through. Though the world often challenges transgender individuals like me, I remain hopeful. Each step I take — whether in my studies, advocacy, or personal life — is a testament to my determination to live authentically. </p>.<p>My journey is far from over, but it is one I embrace with open arms. I hope my story inspires others to find the courage to be themselves, no matter the obstacles. Because at the end of the day, authenticity is worth every battle.</p>.<p><em>(Thanuja Singam is an LGBTQIA+ activist and the author of Thanuja: A Memoir of Migration and Transition which was recently published by Bloomsbury.)</em></p>
<p>Born in the serene coastal town of Mankumban, Sri Lanka, my life was thrown into chaos before I could even form my first memories. At just three months old, my family fled the civil war tearing through the country and sought refuge in India. We settled in the bustling city of Madurai, Tamil Nadu, where my childhood unfolded. Despite the hardships that brought us there, I spent a happy childhood in Madurai, though my path was far from ordinary. </p>.<p><strong>A childhood of innocence & struggle </strong></p>.<p>Madurai, with its vibrant culture and bustling streets, became my home. My childhood was filled with moments of joy and discovery, but I always felt different from the boys around me. While they played cricket or roughhoused, I preferred games that involved dolls, dressing up, and mimicking feminine behaviours. Back then, I didn’t understand why I felt this way; I only knew that behaving like a girl felt natural. </p>.<p>This difference, however, was not welcomed by those around me. My family scolded me for my behaviour, trying to mould me into the “right” kind of boy. Outside my home, I faced an even harsher reality. A neighbour exploited my innocence and femininity, abusing me in ways I couldn’t understand at the time. He wasn’t the only one — others saw me as vulnerable and took advantage of my gentle nature. Too young and confused to comprehend these sexual violations, I silently endured. </p>.<p><strong>A new beginning in Germany </strong></p>.<p>At the age of 10, my family decided to reunite with my father, who had been living in Germany since 1991. This decision marked the beginning of a new chapter, though the journey itself was fraught with challenges. Missing documents kept us in limbo for almost a year as we moved from Madurai to Colombo, waiting for clearance. The uncertainty was exhausting but like many Sri Lankan refugees, we clung to the hope of a better future. </p>.<p>When we finally reached Germany, the challenges took on a new form. The cultural shock was immense, and the language barrier made it difficult to integrate. School became a battleground where I faced relentless bullying for my feminine behaviour. Classmates mocked me, calling me schwul — a derogatory term for gay — and even resorted to physical violence. My high-pitched voice and soft demeanour became reasons for ridicule, and I was frequently beaten. </p>.<p>At home, the harassment continued. My father was deeply disappointed by my behaviour, and his lack of acceptance added to my struggles. The judgement and criticism I faced in both public and private spaces made my teenage years a time of immense pain and confusion. </p>.<p><strong>Discovering myself </strong></p>.<p>At sixteen, everything changed when I stumbled upon stories of trans women on social media. It was a revelation that finally gave me the language to understand myself. I realised that I was not gay, as society had tried to convince me, but a transgender woman. For the first time, I felt seen and validated. </p>.<p>The decision to begin my transition was both empowering and terrifying. Transitioning meant facing resistance at school, at home, and in society, but I was determined. Despite the obstacles, I felt a sense of liberation as I started to live authentically. </p>.<p><strong>Struggles in love & life </strong></p>.<p>The road to self-acceptance was far from smooth. Along the way, I sought love and acceptance in relationships, hoping to find a partner who would see and cherish me for who I was. Sadly, many of these relationships ended in heartbreak. Men I trusted took advantage of my innocence, leaving me with scars — both emotional and physical. Even today, I struggle with trust and anxiety, but these experiences have taught me valuable lessons about resilience and self-worth. </p>.<p>Amid these challenges, the transgender jamath (community) became my sanctuary. It offered me the love, support, and sense of belonging that I had longed for. The jamath not only helped shape me into the woman I am today but also gave me the confidence to face a world that often seeks to marginalise us. </p>.<p><strong>Overcoming bureaucratic battles </strong></p>.<p>Another significant challenge was legally affirming my identity. Changing my name and gender on official documents was an uphill battle. The process was riddled with bureaucratic delays and societal prejudice, but I persevered. After years of effort, I finally held documents that reflected my true identity. It was a moment of triumph — a tangible symbol of my journey toward self-empowerment. </p>.<p><strong>A new chapter & a new purpose </strong></p>.<p>At 26, I made the decision to return to school, determined to build a future for myself. Today, I am studying Preventive Management and Dental Hygiene, which align with my passion for helping others and contributing positively to society. </p>.<p>In 2019, a documentary by 101 India on YouTube brought my story to a global audience. The film, which highlighted my journey and struggles, gave me a platform to speak out on behalf of the LGBTQIA+ community. The overwhelming response to my story made me realise the power of my voice. Since then, I have been advocating for acceptance, equality, and visibility for people like me. </p>.<p><strong>Reflection & hope </strong></p>.<p>Looking back, my journey from Mankumban to Madurai to Germany has been one of immense pain but also immense growth. I’ve faced displacement, abuse, rejection, and heartbreak, but I’ve also discovered resilience, self-love, and a purpose greater than myself. </p>.<p>Today, I am proud of the woman I have become. My scars remind me of the battles I have fought, but they also symbolise the strength that has carried me through. Though the world often challenges transgender individuals like me, I remain hopeful. Each step I take — whether in my studies, advocacy, or personal life — is a testament to my determination to live authentically. </p>.<p>My journey is far from over, but it is one I embrace with open arms. I hope my story inspires others to find the courage to be themselves, no matter the obstacles. Because at the end of the day, authenticity is worth every battle.</p>.<p><em>(Thanuja Singam is an LGBTQIA+ activist and the author of Thanuja: A Memoir of Migration and Transition which was recently published by Bloomsbury.)</em></p>