When the transphobic law was being passed in Russia, I realized that I had to start my transition immediately, otherwise I’d be banned from it forever. I needed to change my ID before the law went into effect. This also meant that I had to come out to my mother.

She didn’t take it well — I soon found out that she talked with her friends about sending me to conversion therapy and taking away my documents. This scared me into running away from my hometown to live with some friends.

It was the first time in my life where I had to reveal my transness to people I didn’t know — because of my ID there was no way for me to pretend to be a cis girl for safety.

Being forcibly out turned out to be… not what I expected. When I was getting some tests done at a hospital, everyone was professional and understanding, besides the little confused lady at the reception desk.

When I started working at a local coffee shop, I explained that I was a guy and my colleagues were very accepting, with one girl privately (and very profusely) apologizing for misgendering me at first. When I was updating my card info, the bank workers were kind, no one questioned me or asked intrusive questions.
Over time, after countless long conversations, my mom started understanding me. When I returned home, it was to a mother that called me her son.

It’s also important to mention that this didn’t happen in Moscow or Saint Petersburg, the largest cities in Russia with the most resources for queer people. It was in the southern and northern parts of the country that are known for being a lot less accepting.

My point is: there are kind people everywhere, even where you least expect them. Most of the general public, in my experience, is not violently transphobic. Many are confused, sometimes awkward, but most of us are good people at heart, no matter what our experience with gender is.

And that’s why we should give people a chance to positively surprise us.