Death Before Detransition: Letter from the Editor
Dear Reader,
This is not just a magazine issue–it’s a gathering of voices that are raw and radiant. When I was approached to be the assistant editor of this project, I did not hesitate. As someone who falls under the trans umbrella and who has worked directly with trans youth and adults for the past ten years through resource allocation, community building, and collective gatherings, it made sense for me to land here.
Working with each one of these writers and artists has reminded me that there is hope and faith to be had. That the future that we so dearly aspire, is right with us. That we are it. We encapsulate creating a world worth living and loving in.
If you’re here, you’re holding closely, ten pieces by Kentucky’s trans youth, all visualized by a trans collage artist, each carrying their own truth with clarity, courage, and deep care. What you’re about to read isn’t just a set of articles, it’s testimony, it’s resistance. They are love letters to the people we’ve been, the people we’re becoming, and the world we aim to live in.
This collection is deeply personal–not just to those who wrote it, but to many of us who will see our reflections in them. It holds stories of navigating health systems that too often shut us out, and of fighting for the right to use a bathroom in peace. It holds the wisdom of disabled trans activists who remind us that access and liberation must move together. It holds grief, anger, joy, and so much more.
Some of these stories crack open experiences we’re taught to hide–like one writer’s journey through substance use and healing, or another’s vulnerable exploration of how transitioning shaped their songwriting, their sound, and themselves. These are the kinds of stories that don’t often make it to mainstream conversations about trans lives–and that’s exactly why they need to be told.
Every single one of these pieces speaks to something bigger than just one person’s experience. Together, they’re a call–a firm insistence–that we are more than the narratives forced on us by our constituents, families, and societies. We are not problems to be solved or policies to be debated. We are people. And we’ve never needed to prove our humanity to be worthy of care.
Every one of these amazing writers and artists asks us to look deeper—to see trans youth as who they are: leaders, creators, lovers, visionaries, and that space needs to be held for complexity, contradiction, and the beauty of life—shaped by violence AND liberation. I ask that you recognize this collection as a call for radical transformation – of systems, of how we love, support, and fight for one another.
If you’re trans and reading this, especially if you’re young: this is for you.
You are not alone. Your joy matters. Your anger, your softness, your questions, your growth – belong right where you are. I hope you find reflections of yourself here. I hope these words remind you that your life is already powerful, even when it feelshard to be seen and understood.
And if you’re not trans: please read these pieces with care. Let them unsettle you if they need to. Let them expand your understanding. Let them pull you closer to the fight for liberation–because this isn’t just about trans people, it’s about all of us. The work of dismantling harmful systems and building something better will take all of us.
To the writers and artists: thank you for showing up with such honesty, talent, and truth. I’m endlessly grateful to you for trusting Queer Kentucky with your stories. This digital magazine is yours. Keep it real, keep it grounded, keep creating,
Assistant Editor











