(Re)discovering Myself: Living as a Young, Queer, Disabled Person

(Re)discovering Myself: Living as a Young, Queer, Disabled Person
Hi there. My name is Rowan, and I’m a nonbinary transmasculine individual. I use he/him
and they/them pronouns, and I’m a part of One Colorado’s 2025-26 Youth GSA Leadership
Council. I’m also disabled and neurodivergent.
Even as a child, I knew I was different than people around me. My body and mind
functioned in ways that others didn’t. I didn’t know how to make friends and couldn’t keep
up with other people’s energy. I became increasingly uncomfortable being perceived as my
assigned gender at birth. While other kids were going to parties and playing sports, I spent
my teen years focusing on my health to avoid pain. I couldn’t make sense of what was
missing in my life. Up until recently, I believed I was the only person in the world who
struggled as I did. These last two years changed that belief entirely.
At the beginning of 2024, I fell into severe burnout. I quit my job and soon after became
housebound and bedbound over the summer. I couldn’t walk long distances or upstairs,
and I often couldn’t shower or cook for myself. I helplessly watched my body deteriorate as
my family and I scrambled for answers. I was eventually diagnosed with fibromyalgia in
October 2024 after months of testing and doctor appointments. My rheumatologist told me
that I would deal with this condition for the rest of my life and sent me on my way. It felt like
all the rules of my life had changed in that moment. I wasn’t even 20 years old, and it felt
like my future was suddenly shattered. My diagnosis brought a realization that I’d have to
relearn how to live in my body from the ground up.
I spent a lot of time reflecting on my relationship with my body as I tried to find a new
normal. With that came the same questions that I had about my gender when I was
younger. I knew I wasn’t my assigned gender at birth, but I also knew I didn’t fit into any one
box. Once I discovered the term “nonbinary” (not exclusively male or female), something
clicked. I started experimenting with which articles of clothing felt correct to me, rather
than what gender the clothes were assigned to. I began to recognize the person staring
back in the mirror for the first time in years, and that’s when I knew I had found the last
piece of the puzzle. I had finally found that sense of “wholeness” that I’d been chasing for a
lifetime. I officially came out as nonbinary in March of 2025 and began to socially
transition.
Once I set out to live more openly about my gender identity, I was inspired to find LGBTQ+
community spaces that could welcome me. But the more I searched, the more I realized
how few of these social gatherings I would be able to attend. Loud noises quickly
overstimulate me. Unpredictable weather can trigger my heat intolerance. Crowded spaces
leave little space to take breaks or decompress. I don’t have the energy to leave my house
most days, let alone socialize. If I do want to go somewhere, there are numerous boxes I
have to check off to minimize the risk of a symptom flare-up during or after social events. I
wanted to find a more sustainable way to engage with the LGBTQ+ community, so I turned
to the internet for guidance.
What I found was an abundance of online resources for LGBTQ+ individuals. Anything from
virtual support groups and gender-affirming healthcare to Zoom book clubs and
educational seminars came up. I could show up as I am with what energy and time I have. I
could sit comfortably at home without worry of flare-up triggers or public appearances. I’ve
had the opportunity to talk to queer and transgender folks all across the United States
through a single laptop. Those moments showed me (and continue to show me) that I was
never alone in this world. I also discovered organizations like One Colorado and their GSA
Leadership Council that I could engage with virtually. I currently work on projects for One
Colorado on my own time at home while staying in the loop about events and
opportunities. I can contribute without neglecting my own needs, all while working with
incredible people and learning important leadership skills.
Until joining One Colorado, it felt too daunting to share my voice for in-person advocacy
work. I’ve since found the courage to engage in ways that accommodate my own needs
through online work. I work to share resources within my local community, spread
awareness of legislative issues impacting LGBTQ+ youth, write public comments on federal
agency regulation proposals, and even collaborate virtually with other organizations to
support queer and trans folks.
This very article is also my first time publishing my writing,
which is pretty cool! My time working with One Colorado also encourages me to advocate
for better accessibility options at in-person LGBTQ+ events. Wheelchair accessibility, sign
language interpreters, multiple transportation options, proper signage, and sensory-
friendly areas are just a few of many changes that can provide inclusivity for queer and
trans folks with disabilities. These events cannot be a safe space for all until accessibility
for all is prioritized.
I still struggle with my fibromyalgia and other disabilities in my day-to-day life, and I will
likely continue to. I must allocate my energy carefully to prevent flare-ups. I still cannot
drive or work, and some days I can’t do much more than feed myself and rest. The
difference now is that I don’t carry shame about making accommodations for myself. I am
proud to call myself queer and disabled because I know that I am worthy of this life just as I
am.
I can’t wait to continue working with One Colorado and using my voice to fight for a
better future. I might be joining from my laptop most days, but that’s perfectly okay.


