Artist Statement
This piece is a representation of dysphoria and how it can feel like a villain, hunting you down and trying to kill you. Some days, you’ll be fine, and you won’t even notice it. But other days, it’ll feel like it pops up at every corner, in every conversation, at every glance. It feels like it’s stalking you, trying to make you hurt, trying to kill you. It’s not rational. It’s not predictable. All it wants is your suffering. It makes you feel less like a person, and more like a piece of meat, ready to be butchered. Some days it makes you want to be butchered. It’s a terrible feeling. I made this piece digitally to get the look of a retro slasher-movie poster. 

Mama Statement

When Max (now Marcy) came out to us over Mother’s Day dinner three years ago, my first thought was: maybe this is a phase. I’m not proud of that, but the thought only lasted a day. 

I pondered long and hard over it. I prayed. And a little voice in my head grew louder. It kept saying the same thing, over and over—believe her. Believe her.

No parent wants their child to suffer. I knew then, and even more so now, in the current political environment, Marcy’s life would not be easy. But she told me it would be harder to live in the wrong body than it would be to face bigots. So I stand with her—fiercely protective, unbelievably proud, always listening.

Every time I look at Marcy’s art, I’m reminded of her strength—and of all the things I cannot protect her from. Dysphoria is a villain most people will never see, but Marcy names it, draws it, and makes it visible for the rest of us. As her mother, I am learning every day: love listens. Love believes.

If you are a parent, friend, or family member of someone who is trans, let your love be fierce and visible. Let it be louder than the villain. And when you’re not sure what to say, just listen. Sometimes, that’s enough.