In general, ‘’career growth’’ and ‘’success’’ is unclear concepts for me. My main motivation is to just do what I think is right and change things for the better. I’m an idealist and people often misunderstand this, thinking that I’m being vocal to help advance my career.

For the last two months before leaving this organization, I thought almost every day that something obviously had to be changed in my life. So, one day I sat down and calculated for how long would my savings last if I lived modestly. I realized, that it was probably enough for 5-6 months and I decided to quit my job. Suddenly, I felt so relieved that I realized that if I stayed, I would lose my self-respect. At the same time, my work output would also be affected, as I had completely lost motivation. On that day, when I left the office, I called my boss and told him that the next day I was writing a resignation letter and I was leaving the job in a month. This last month was the happiest I’ve ever been at this job.

Ideological chaos in Georgian activism
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I didn’t receive formal education on environmental issues, but I was always interested in it and felt that it was one of the topics that bothered me the most. I had a lot of information about the climate crisis and in general, our future life is up to us, especially my generation. If we don’t solve the environmental problems, nothing will matter anymore. If the planet is no longer a healthy place, how can we achieve social justice on a dead planet? Therefore, I wanted to work in a place where environmental issues, women’s and labor rights, as well as Queer issues intersected with each other. The ‘’young greens’’ seemed to me to be such a place back then. So, after I left the job, I started organizing climate strikes with this team. After that, there were strikes to protect the Digomi forest, which was successful, and the court ordered stopping all construction in this area. In short, as soon as I left work, I turned immediately to activism. I felt a lot of motivation and admiration for what I was doing. Back then I knew nothing about the internal dramas and struggles, which turned out, were happening in activism in general. In a few months, I saw that many people I respected individually turned out to dislike each other. Even though they stand together at the strike, in separate circles they talked trash about each other and so on. So, I was also curious about what they thought of me and how my activity was perceived. I slowly realized, that not everyone was kind to me. Especially when I was talking about my personal experiences, it was perceived as the experiences of a very privileged person. It happens that quite privileged people try to delegitimize people, who they think is also trying to become privileged. In fact, I consider myself a leftist, but it’s comical when more radical leftists call me a liberal and liberals call me a radical leftist.

In fact, I agree with progressive left-wing ideology. Due to ideological differences, I left the ‘’Greens’’ in May. It turned out that a large group of the organization placed class issues at the forefront, then came environmental issues, and only then feminist and Queer issues. For me, there isn’t any such hierarchy between these issues, and all these issues are equally important. Unfortunately, it turned out that what I didn’t like when working in the previous organization – hierarchy, aversion to different opinions, labeling people, and delegitimizing them – in a few months were exposed in the ‘’young greens’’ too.

We live in late capitalism. It’s better than to live in the hope of a revolution. We have to try reforming this system and find common ground with both the radical leftists and also with the liberals. Otherwise, we will be looking for an enemy among potential friends and I would rather look for a potential friend among enemies. We need to stand together around important issues, especially when we are fighting for the bare minimum in Georgia.

My vision for the development of the ‘’Greens’’ was to have our own strategy and to work constructively with whomever we crossed paths with. We would be more positive agenda makers if we worked this way. You can’t separate yourself from everyone and everything and constantly self-marginalize. In fact, not everything is black and white, the context and many nuances need to be considered.

For me, the individual comes first, and only then the team – I’m a person first, and only then do I unite around a common interest in any group, in which I stay only if I feel good as a person in that group – but this was also perceived negatively by a few people in the ‘’Greens’’. They said that the collective is more than the individual. For me, this is the way to totalitarianism. In General, ‘’Greens’’ actually has the most progressive ideology that I have ever encountered and I hope that it will not turn into a reactionary leftist movement. I’m going soon to Sweden for two years for a master’s degree. I have to study public ecology and come back armed with expertise. I believe that during my absence, this group will be able to look in the mirror and, based on feedback from its members, make a positive transformation.

The Politics of visibility
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When there are discussions if we should rally or if we should use profile pictures as a form of protest, I’m reminded of my experience. I remember my feelings in 2015 – after same-sex marriage was legalized in the US, I saw the rainbow-frames on many peoples’ profiles for the first time. Even though I came out to my mom and a few friends, I couldn’t use this frame myself. I saw this frame on many of my Facebook friends, who I didn’t realize were thinking about these topics and I was very happy. As it turned out, I had a circle of people more receptive than I could ever imagine. I remember I went through my entire list of friends, checking who had put up this colorful frame to learn with whom I could talk to about it. I have probably been expressing my views on these topics on social media for the last two or three years. I think that even if one person feels that he or she is not alone in this world, this colorful frame and everything else related to visibility is totally worth it.

Coming out to mom
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Before I told my mother about my identity, I constantly felt fear. It was very important to me that people close to me knew the truth about me, but I hadn’t imagined telling my mother so soon. I was in love for the first time when I was 17, but unlucky. I was sad for the whole months and I had to pretend I was happy when I was around my mother. It made me feel even worse and one day, when I didn’t even expect it, I told her. After that, we both cried for three hours. She took it very emotionally, she suffered a lot and blamed herself. She was looking for her ‘’guilt’’ in my identity, which was the hardest for me, especially when I had known since I was five years old that I like women. The acceptance process was quite long, but every summer when I came back from the USA, I felt more and more accepted by her. She needed time, but I think we should give our parents at that time. We shouldn’t take it so dramatically that information about our sexual orientation is not easily received. Our parents’ generation is interested in what the community around them thinks, and often, we can be more understanding of them than vice versa. I think this is the way to relatively harmonious relationships, not throwing them out of our lives altogether.

Author: Ida Bakhturidze
Photo: Nino Baidauri
Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

The post Tamar Jakeli, 24 years old, Tbilisi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

I was 13-14 years old when I first had a relationship with a woman. It was my first experience, but it was so weird and unacceptable that I ignored it in my mind, as if it never happened. Many people say they were homophobes in the past. I’ve never been a homophobe in my life, it wasn’t really on my mind. In the 12th grade, I was studying in the U.S in a school exchange program. There I had my first transgender friend, my classmate. Years later, when I was about 20, I began to think about it again, I acknowledged it, discovered it, and accepted myself as I am.

At first, it was very difficult for me. First of all, it was a big problem to find someone like me. This was before I started working for an LGBT organization and being active in the community. No one talked about these topics around me, I had very few lesbian and bisexual friends. Because we live in a heteronormative environment, I have always been accustomed to men flirting with me; as if it was a simple and natural fact and therefore I had a lot of barriers and complexes when I tried a relationship with a woman. It was difficult for me to make the first step or any action at all.

The breaking out moment in my life was May 17th, 2013. Then I was working for one of the non-governmental organizations and I was in charge of monitoring the May 17th rally. I have seen violence of incredible scale on that day. I saw thousands of people who wanted to see blood. I saw how they were throwing stones at us and tried to attack the bus full of lesbian women and community supporters. Then, this yellow minibus became a tragic symbol of May 17th. At one point, I fell into such a quagmire that I fell to the ground. On this day, I saw how people in this country hate lesbian, gay, bisexual, and queer people. They hate them so much, that they are ready to kill them. Seeing this injustice and oppression awakened an activist in me. I started researching LGBTQ issues, participating in various events. May 17th gave me the strength to talk openly with my friends, co-workers, and people around me about my sexual orientation.

In 2015, I got myself involved in LGBT activism. I found out what LGBT organizations existed in Georgia at that time. There was “Identity” and “LGBT Georgia” – a small organization and I wrote to the director at that time, David Mikheil Shubladze, that I was interested, even if as a volunteer. A few months later, David wrote to me that they had an opening for a project manager; it was a small project for preventing HIV / AIDS, and so I started working. At that time, three people were working in this organization, then the name was changed and it became “Equality Movement”. We grew from year to year when I left, we already had 40 employees and we had 5 regional offices.

I started coming out slowly at first, with my friends. Fortunately, I was lucky not to have many homophobes as friends. Everything happened by itself, I didn’t need to personally explain to everyone that I liked women. Then I came out to a few of my relatives, cousins, and it went well. Not long ago, in 2019, I told my brother. He also knew my girlfriend and I’m happy took everything well.

I never explicitly said anything to my parents about my orientation, I’m very worried that I never mustered enough strength o do so. But the reality is that I’m frequently on TV, I always talk in the first person and position myself as a queer woman, as a member of the community and I never talked about myself in the third person, as a rights advocate or an activist. My parents are supposed to know all this, but they seem to block this information and even today they think I only work on these things and I’m not an LGBT community member myself. They don’t want to acknowledge that. There were some painful experiences in my life, including violence. I talk about them in different spaces, but sadly I haven’t talked about such important moments with my parents. Sometimes I think they don’t really know me. They don’t know many things about me and it sinks my heart. I’m probably afraid of their reaction and I don’t want to fully come out of my comfort zone. I don’t know why, but it seems that in this country most parents and children have similarly distant relationships. It’s very painful for me. Seeing me on TV is usually big stress for them, they always cry and beg me to leave “this business”, leave those LGBT and NGO organizations. Even though we all live in Tbilisi, I’m not able to see them frequently, most likely deliberately. I try to see them every week, but even it’s too much because it always becomes a discussion of my life and work – it’s very hard for us to agree on things. Aside from LGBT issues, this also applies to political affairs and the whole act of communicating is so daunting that I try to avoid this situation. I would probably be twice as happy and strong if I had my parents’ support. I don’t know; maybe it will happen someday.

It’s very hard for me to be an activist. It’s very hard to be visible to the public, especially when it’s about such a sensitive issue. I don’t strive to do it, it’s just my teammates tell me I have to do things because there’s no one else. It’s rare to see an LGBT activist that will talk about themselves in the first person and agree to appear on TV. I always feel the pressure that I have to be the one to do all this until new people appear, until our numbers grow. On top of all this, there’s also pressure from my family and relatives, questioning my sanity and the reasons why I do this…

Recently I had a very bad experience with a neighbor. On May 18th, the second day after May 17th, for no apparent reason, my neighbor from the floor below came to me screaming, appearing willing to physically hurt me. Formally he provided a reason that I had loud music playing the other day, but finally, we found out that he had a problem with my line of work – my landlord also told me also he called her about it. I had to call the police and they issued a restraining order. A month passed by and we haven’t run into each other; hopefully, it will continue this way. For three weeks already there are daily protests at the “Tbilisi Pride” office. People stand there with some banners containing messages of hateful speech and protest our work and existence. It’s very depressing to go in and out of this office every day, walking through a corridor of shame and hearing all those insults. It’s also depressing when people ask me about my work in everyday life. I’m afraid to answer honestly because I do not know what kind of attitude they’ll have hearing it – it may arouse aggression. I’m a cis-gendered woman and my self-realization isn’t causing hate-motivated crimes; in this aspect, I’m very privileged. I haven’t had problems with my appearance, my gender identity, or behavior; but when it comes to being an activist and the public seeing you from that angle, there are barriers for me. Despite everything, I’m doing the work that’s very important to me and where I’m most motivated; I can’t even imagine doing something different. This isn’t just work, it’s like I’m fighting for all of my friends and people that are discriminated about this.

I’m very proud that a lot of people from the community contact me and say thank you for what I’m doing. They write to me that they watch all my public appearances and take my cause to heart. This visibility gives me a chance to tell about me people who need my help. I’m a privileged person and the means and resources I have are not available to many community members, so I always try to help them.

Despite being very hard living this routine, I try to also grow professionally. Right now I have good news – I’m going to study at Sussex University in Briton, Great Britain, fully subsidized. I was very happy because there was a lot of competition. Also, I feel that I need a break, because – and it’s very hard to explain what we went through organizing Tbilisi Pride 2019, – but it was a very hard feat and this process practically devoured my mental health. That one year I had such a stressful period that I went to a psychiatrist for several months and took medicine to at least be able to think.

We decided to organize “Tbilisi Pride”, started working on it, announced it, and since then, fought on all possible fronts. We’re used to aggression from conservative or ultra-right groups, but on the other hand, the government treated us so dismissively that I felt like I was nothing. We begged them on meetings to acknowledge our right to come out in the street, that we had a constitutional right to do so, and that we shouldn’t be scapegoated from public space like this. The government didn’t agree to us on this, was indirectly denying us these rights, and actively pressured us to cancel the Walk of Pride. Simultaneously, there was also a difference of opinion between activists and community members and that’s always harder on me than hearing some fascist’s swear words and comments. I think these people are fighting with me and I respect their opinion, so having a conflict with them is most stressful for me, and affects me the most. We, the Pride’s organizers, received death threats. They wrote to me that they’d kill me if I didn’t stop. This hasn’t been investigated even after a year… In the first week of the Pride, on the most active and stressful day, we received these threats and pastors and far-right groups surrounded our office, we had to evacuate and temporarily move to another organization’s office. At this time, there were some alternative groups forming in the streets, people were walking around with bats and threatening our members. You feel responsible because you started all this, and all this was very hard and stressful for me, my mental health, and the people around me. This experience changed me and I’ll never be the same Mariam as before. I always say that before 2015, when I became involved in activism, I was a free, easy-going girl, never knowing depression or feeling down. After that, everything changed and I always have to think about injustice around. You have to explain simple truths to people, explain that two adults can love each other, not meaning harm to anyone and having real feelings. Despite explanations, we encounter cardinal opposition. Also, it’s a problem not seeing progress immediately, activism takes years, but I really can’t deny that we’re seeing progress. I believe we’re going the right way and activism, talking about this is a solution; but our lives also fly by and we want to see results – we only live once and knowing that achieving something will take 50 years seems a bit far. There are also disappointments in this fight, problems, and it takes a toll on me. Hopefully, our movement will become stronger. I see it – more people are active in this space, more are coming out, talking about this, I just want all this to happen faster.

I’m going to rest for some time now, I’ll see everything from the outside, reevaluate everything, return much stronger and will fight homophobia like never before.

Author: Nino Gamisonia
Photo: Geda Darchia
Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

The post Mariam Kvaratskhelia, 27 years old, Tbilisi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

I’m considered a first-generation trans. Imagine, in time of Edika (Eduard Shevardnadze) I already had my identity. In 90’s Georgia (I was still a child back then), I came out of the omnipresent street gang period alive and survived. I don’t know exactly why; probably partly because of my personality and also because people didn’t know transience and aggression wasn’t prevalent either. I didn’t know any other trans people. During this time I thought only I alone in the world was so different and I was afraid to talk to other people. I remember, ‘’Italian’’ and ‘’french’’ style shoes were in vogue and I always wore those. When I went to a party, people were coming just to see me – I was such an exotic item for that time. Still, it was difficult to survive. Support from my family helped me a lot. When they found out about my identity, they didn’t kick me out of the house, in the opposite—they took me as I am and stood by my side. Also, thanks to them I grew up without stress and always had a healthy psyche. I have fully embraced my identity and now I’m exactly who I always wanted to be. I’m a woman and Ana Sophia Kovalenko is written on my ID card.

We live in a country where it’s difficult for trans people to survive. Many young trans women didn’t even have support from their own families. As soon as their identities went public, their families disowned them and they weren’t able to finish school and had to leave their homes. Part of them, living in regions, had to leave their land to come to Tbilisi to survive. Imagine if you didn’t even get school education; you had a stressful childhood and saw no acceptance of your identity, and the only thing left to do was to adapt to the market’s demands and save yourself by sex-work. There is an enormous demand for trans on the market, even more for trans than for women. I can say for sure that in Georgia 70% are bisexual, they just don’t recognize it.

Sex work is not our choice. This is an extreme form of self-preservation and a perilous job. First, when I leave the house, I never know if I’m coming back alive or not. I’m certain that if I’m threatened or killed, no one will investigate my case. The government doesn’t protect us and doesn’t care about our existence. Secondly, having an intimate relationship with more than 3 partners per day is devastating for the psyche.

I studied in college and have a profession—I work on hair extensions and have regular customers. That’s because I was lucky having brilliant friends encourage me; in the face of incessant bullying, there wouldn’t even be any talks of education. Even though both my appearance and attire are organic to me and it doesn’t cause much aggression in others, it still hinders my employment. I tried several times to find an office job—everything went perfectly; the interview was successful, but as soon as I had to write down my sex in a form, I was refused for unknown reasons. I haven’t tried since then. By the way, a few days ago, it was the first time that a trans woman was officially hired as a housekeeper in one hospital. There must be many more opportunities like this to revive hope in others. There are myths like trans people don’t want to work. That’s plain wrong – every trans wants to be employed, but because the anti-discrimination law fails to protect us and employers are afraid of us, they leave us with the only risky job that I talked about.

The pandemic was the final straw. I had my income and never bothered anyone for help; I even helped others with clothes and food, but now I’m hopeless. I ran out of my savings a long time ago. I could no longer pay rent and had to vacate the place. Now I temporarily live with my friend, who has a family. She explained my situation to her husband, and they accepted me. I feel embarrassed and try my best not to bother anyone. I can’t live like that much longer.

The government has distributed products as a one-time aid. But I burned through them a long time ago. A friend told me, that they provided this help through citizens’ donations. I couldn’t register as socially vulnerable because I don’t have a residence. Obviously, I didn’t get pandemic help for the self-employed. They require bringing clients with you to prove employment but imagine a trans person doing that. It’s absurd. Everyone betrayed us, everyone left us alone.

Before that well-known story of a trans woman burning herself in front of the City hall happened, we had a meeting. This person was there too. We told each other how difficult it was. She also had a problem with her apartment, she had to leave it and had nowhere to go. In the evening, I heard this, and it pained me. It hurt me as much as it did to her. This was her extreme protest—people are protesting, when they are in a hopeless situation and this protest is a signal to the government to see us and recognize us as human beings. But it turns out that it was more difficult to read the comments below the video footage. They hate us as much as they can. How heartless can a person be to make fun of you in such a difficult time and say that it was a staged show? Will it not be awkward for you, if I explain that we are human beings too, that we read, think, and that it hurts that you hate us so much, for no reason? It’s probably the oppressed people in the shadows, who can’t talk out about their pain and are moving aggression to someone else. Most of them are trolls. Despite so much disgust, there are still many kind people. We are now surviving on private donations—there is an account number for helping trans people and those who take our struggle to the heart are transferring money. Some people are really short of money but still, help us. Can you believe that some of them even transferred one GEL – everyone is doing whatever they can. We are grateful for that. Thanks for recognizing us as human beings and for feeling our pain.

Before this protest, the state blocked us on every channel. They were blinding and defending themselves. We never bothered the state, we didn’t interfere and took care of ourselves as much as we could. We are at a dead end now. We previously also provided information to the government, that many trans people had attempted suicide because of the financial situation, but they didn’t have a reaction. Die—that was the message.

After the protest, Gakharia’s advisor on gender issues has contacted us on the same evening. It scared them. They realized that protest could be contagious and that other trans would appear on the streets the next day. Also, Georgia’s international reputation would be threatened. There were promises, but we received nothing so far.

What do we need? Employment, any kind of employment. Solving the problem of studying and education—knowledge of English is a dream for many. And the guarantee of physical safety. Is it a lot to ask?’’

Author: Maiko Chitaia
Photo: Nina Baidauri
Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

The post Ana Kovalenko, 35 years old, Tbilisi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

It was exactly five months ago I confessed to myself and to my friends I was a transgender woman and couldn’t live otherwise, didn’t find it worth living otherwise. I’ve spent 22 years looking for myself though. My memories start from the age of 6 when I began to grasp I didn’t fit the stereotypes our society has set for men.

This is a thing which you get to know since as a child, you feel it or need to think about it. As we grew up, My sister and I developed our values somewhat on our own. There were no stereotypes which we were weaned on. We grew up and get to know things somehow naturally. I used to do as I please, play whatever toys I liked. My feelings were rather obscure in those days. It was like when you watch your heteronormative peers playing with toy cars, and it’s beyond your understanding what is it that attracts them. I’d rather play hide-and-seek and dodgeball or dress up girls on a computer. These are small details though they lead you to the understanding that you’re different. However, you hesitate to give it a name as you’re unable to explain your behaviour being too young to understand what is it happening to you.

I was rather lucky that no violence has ever taken place in my family. My parents never prevented me from playing whatever games I was into. Even my clothes were not typical boyish – I always dressed in unisex clothing unrestrained by the family. That is why I have no bitter or tragic memories from my childhood or teenage years.

However, it was painful the process of seeking myself, the greatest confrontation within me where more than one personality existed. All the people were confused about my gender. It was especially noticeable with strangers. Cab drivers always mistook me for a woman and addressed me as “Ms”. Such things annoyed me instead of enjoying as I myself couldn’t see my gender. I remember growing my beard intentionally in order not to be mistaken for a woman, but even beard grew sparsely and then they took me for a beardy woman. My voice was also thin, feminine. And I had no answer whether I was a man or a woman.
However, I remember I always had a dream; I used to close my eyes and fancy myself a woman with children and husband. This dream of mine helped me to get over the severe conflict within myself.

All transgender women school stories are quite similar. No exception in my case as I was an object of severe bullying at school. they used to call me names such as “faggot”, “sissy” etc. I can’t help laughing now, but it can be a bitter pill to swallow when you’re 13-14. I shudder even now as I recall it.

Though, thanks to my nature, everybody loved me. What a sweet child, we love him so much, they used to say about me. People have always loved me as they saw kindness in me.

Coming out

I came out five months ago and told everything as it was to my family and friends. 

What coming out feels like? I would express the feeling in a single sentence – this is seeing yourself as a one, whole person. After coming out, when I woke up in the morning with the whole personality. All the worries, ambiguities and troubles disappeared. You know, I felt such a lightness as if I was a butterfly. Out of this lightness, I burst into tears of happiness. Impossible to describe with words the joy it was.

First I told my mom, who’s in Greece, via Messenger. She couldn’t accept it and lost me. Then I told my friends, some of them also turned their backs on me. In a way, I had a guilty conscience about my parents as they never maltreated but always supported me, thoughts that I disappointed them and committed a crime by discovering my own identity made me feel terrible. But then I realized it was worth it, and I had no intention of giving up my life for anybody. 

I think people who’re going to come out better visit a psychologist first. Psychologists’ services are now free for transgender people. For if you’re mentally fragile, it will destroy you, this finger-pointing, mockery, hate. I was lucky to have people around supporting me, so I survived.

Endless days of freedom

I dress in women’s clothes now. I don’t think of myself as beautiful, just an ordinary girl who likes to dress plainly. I never wear defiant clothes. I’ve never lived in isolation but walk the streets 24/7, meet new people and enjoy it very much. My freedom is mine, and I’d give anything for it. In the surroundings where hate prevails over love, I, of course, face the threat of physical violence, but I take a risk. I love life, communication and can’t afford to isolate myself. My new name is Monica.

Every door has its key

After finishing my 9th year at school, I got the job on television. My dad, who worked as a driver there, knew about my dream of being a journalist. He helped me to get to the right place. At first, he insisted on me learning cameraman’s craft, so I worked as a cameraman for about a year. After I became a journalist though, “Moambe” reporter at Public Broadcaster. Later, I completed my education and earned a bachelor’s diploma in videography, editing and journalism.

I fulfilled another my dream as well – have taken singing classes at Valerian Shiukashvili school where Sophia Nizharadze taught me singing. Now I’m ready to record a song and going to do it soon.

On the whole, unemployment is a huge problem for transgender women. On the one hand, it is caused by homophobic and hostile attitudes at jobs. Many transgender women have no proper qualifications though. This is often because of violence in their families and surroundings since the age of 13. They have to run away and, therefore, are unable to receive a proper education. Then they had to struggle for the survival, to earn just their daily bread and live in the shelter. Often the only job that turns up for transgender people is prostitution, which is not their choice so that they have to work risking their neck every day.

By the way, I too had to work as a sex-worker. I needed it for the survival. I worked for about 3-4 months. It wasn’t tough period tough, thanks to my nature, as I knew it was temporary. I needed money for old rope in order to save some, improve my foreign language skills and then find a job somewhere else. 

It’s been mere two weeks since I’ve got a manager’s job in Equality Movement Telavi branch. I already have two conference invitations. I’m going to Amsterdam for the AIDs awareness seminar.

You may be surprised at my boldness that a person with my identity decided to move from Tbilisi to Telavi. I am confident though that they will see me as I am with all my friendliness and appealing personality.

I don’t find surroundings here that hostile. Seeing that I’m capable of defending myself in a civilized way, they’d even apologize if they did something wrong. 

Actually, people don’t have a hunch about my identity. I look so naturally and plainly that no unnecessary questions arise. Once, I met two older women in the street in Telavi. They were inviting me home to meet “Vakhuna” (Son, perhaps). As I refused, one of them said out loud “Leave her alone! Can’t you see? She’s the kind of girl who’ll have Vakhuna under her thumb”. They amused me a lot.

My future

I’m definitely going to have a sex reassignment surgery. The only obstacle I have is money. In Georgia, these surgeries are a high health risk. The safest country in this regard is Thailand, where the surgery costs from 23,000 to 100,000 and above. So, my goal is to work hard to save money. As I always say, I’ll have woman’s body at least when they put me in a grave.

I’m fighting for changing my gender marker on my passport according to my true identity for it will make my life much easier. I won’t be subjected to humiliation and cynical attitude anymore. Change in documents will increase my self-esteem and make me happier. Today, the ministry of justice makes us face the necessity of sterilisation which is unacceptable to me personally.

Currently, I’m all alone. Never loved anybody. Just like in childhood, I often dream about family, a loved one and lots of children. I wish to have at least 4-5 children both my own and foster.

When meeting a man, the most painful is admitting your identity. It breaks my heart when I see how they turn their backs on me or care for a sexual relationship only. That is why I’m still alone.

My name was Misho before. And I’m not ashamed of it, I’ll never be, as the person with that name went through many things. This person made me strong as I am now, so he’s very dear to me.

Author: Maiko Chitaia
Photo Credit: Salome Sagaradze

The post Monica, 22 years old, Tbilisi / Telavi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

Since very childhood, I’ve always seen myself as a girl. Except for boy’s name, I could see no difference between other girls and myself. By the age of 11-12, I started considering seriously about who I was. Because of the homophobic environment around me, I was heavily depressed and thought of myself as a wicked person, having a pretty low opinion of myself. Although, after some time I realized that there was nothing horrible and shocking about me being transgender.

School

Even as a kid, as long as I remember myself, I was feminine and used to play with dolls. Having had similar interests with girls, I had girlfriends and have sweet and fond memories of that time until the age of puberty. Reaching the age of 11-12, when girls and boys interests become very distinct, problems started at school. I was different from my male peers. They were interested in football, fighting and would talk about things I would find uninteresting and dull. Brawls have never been my style. I preferred playing with girls to whom I could always chat about fashion and clothes. I have never had problems with girls. On the contrary, I remember them defending me against the violent attacks of the boys, standing up for me and even had confrontations in the class because of me. At school, I was having problems with teachers too. Once, on entering the classroom, I overheard one of the teachers fueling hostility towards me amongst my classmates.

Family

I was 8 when my father died. Ever since early childhood, my mother remembers me looking like this. She often used to see me in a dress. Every time she wasn’t at home I put on a dress. At first, she had objections naturally, but later on, she somewhat got used to it and realized fighting didn’t make any sense. We used to live in a two-storey house with a wooden floor. I was always upstairs wearing high-heel shoes. Mom used to warn me not to wear high-heels while neighbours were there, she said they would hear clattering. She didn’t have anything against me, the only thing that worried her was other people seeing or hearing about it. Actually, when I came out to my mother her problem wasn’t me being and living as a transgender, but what neighbours and relatives would say; “You have a younger brother, so why ruin his life as well? Leave Georgia and do what you like to do there” she said. It is not a transgender woman that is unacceptable to her, but she’s afraid of society’s response.

In the beginning, I had a few arguments with my brother too yet today he is my biggest defender in the neighbourhood or with the relatives. Once, I remember, I was 16 and still going to school, when I pierced my ears. Local loafers came to our house and were calling me over, probably to beat me. Although my brother is younger than me, he went out and confronted them with “It’s nobody’s business what is he up to. He’s my brother and those having a problem with him can go off me too”. You know, when your family supports you, society is more or less forced to get used to it. But if your family neglects you, everybody will screw you up.
My brother’s such an attitude is probably due to the fact, that it was entirely on me looking after and taking care of him when mom had to work all day. I even used to go to parent’s meeting, cook and help him doing his homework.
Now, I don’t go to Poti anymore. After the demonstration on May 17th my relatives found out about me and it has put a strain on my relationship with my mother. Though every now and then I skype my brother, who lives in Turkey now.

Present state

On my ID card, my name is Miranda. There is no problem with changing a name. They’ll write what you tell them to write. You can only change a name once though. The problem is to change sex designation where they ask for the legal document of sex reassignment surgery. In Europe, having psychiatrist’s diagnosis of gender dysphoria, it is possible to change the sex designation on ID. A week ago, when I applied to the ministry of justice for changing the sex designation on ID card and met a flat refusal, I asked based on which law they were refusing me. I didn’t get an answer. This issue hasn’t been regulated by law. An underlying cause of this refusal is just this ugly practice. There is also Venice commission opinion that sex designation on ID card must be performed based on psychiatrist’s diagnosis. Currently, there are cases of three transgender men in European Court of Human Rights. I’m sure we’re going to win these cases. To me it very important my ID card not to show “male” as a sex designation. If I show you my ID, you’ll see my exact photograph of how I look, female name and “male” as a sex designation. It’s nonsense. If I wasn’t sure I am a woman, I would never change my name. This is my life. I didn’t wake up one day saying “hey, I want to be a woman – let’s change my name”. This is me!

Apart from huge difficulties transgender people are facing in receiving different services such as police or medical institution, there is an insoluble employment problem. First of all, employment problems are due to the fact that many of transgender people were not able to receive an education. I’ve been lucky. I had a support from my family, I received higher education and now I’m employed in EQUALITY MOVEMENT. However, most of the transgender people are kicked out of their homes at the age of 14-15 and are forced to struggle for survival. Our country hasn’t even developed to the level that would allow a transgender person to work, at least, in a café or restaurant and not become a sex-worker.
I prefer the society to see and perceive me as having a strong personality rather than a victim. It is not my style to speak from a position of the oppressed. On the contrary, I’m not begging for something, I’m asking for it. I am an individual, I have my rights and I fight for them.

Am I asking for everyone to love me?! No. I just want the people who don’t like me to leave me alone. I have my circle of friends – people whom I really get along with. I want the society to let me live. That’s all.

Author: Nino Gamisonia
Photo credit: Nino Baidauri
Translation: Nino Suramelashvili

The post Miranda Paghava, 23 years old, Tbilisi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

Being queer means to defy any restrictions in any form. I don’t mean the restrictions coming from the people whose recognition means nothing to me and who I can just ignore. I mean the people, who matter – my friends, my family, even my Facebook friends. A lot of people have self-restrictions. And when they voice these self-restrictions, they consider me to share the same rules of the game and view my every word and action within these restrictions. So being queer for me means that no matter how subtle and disguised such control is – of emotions, forms of expression, looks, even where and how I spend my free time… often delivered as “advice” and solidified and justified by their experiences and narratives – honestly, it is all rubbish. Not because queer activism requires it to be formulated this way, I really do not care about it in the least.

I have often wondered what the life of those people must be like, the life of the people who wake worrying about what other people might think about their particular behavior, way of life, words.

I’ve led such a life too, but I can hardly remember it now. I have trouble remembering the sensation of living so, I only remember the facts. I remember that my attempts to become what others expected of me did not bring any results. The desired result was actually what people usually want – to be liked. In my first university year, I fell prey to bullying. I had finished school in Zestaponi and despite the fact that I was an outstanding student, friendly and kind, – I don’t know why that is never enough… – I could not get any recognition. I remember wanting it badly.

Then I received a DAAD scholarship and left for Germany for a month and a half. I cannot say that Germany set me free immediately, but getting away from this environment did me good. I might have gone to Zestaponi instead of Germany and the result would be the same. Geography has nothing to do with it.

Once I returned, I realized that in order to be better, I absolutely don’t need the people who cannot see me. I think it was a compromise in a way. Or I just decided that things don’t work another way. I started to live alone, started writing, connecting with some people and losing others. In a nutshell, I started doing what only I could manage and where another party didn’t have a say. As soon as I became self-sustaining, everything and everyone was drawn to me. As I received recognition from my own self, all of it appeared – friends, enemies, attention, aggression, conflict, joy… everything that generally happens in the people’s lives. Then I dropped out of the university. It was part of my protest then. I completed three years as an outstanding student, and then I just went to the university and did not attend the lectures. I would sit at the exams in the auditorium and say I did not want to take the exam, I did not care about the evaluation. Of course they looked at me the way one looks at a cat with spikes – something that scares and intimidates you but you still tiptop around it, curious, trying to touch, not daring to get any closer. This was the first time I felt something close to being queer: no matter the reason people oust you, what you need to learn in any case is to be comfortable with yourself; staying alone should be your comfort zone.

I may sound mundane, but the worst experience related to queer activism is the cases of physical violence – the threat of pain and even death. Most recent and memorable was when police literally attacked us when we were making stencils in the morning of May 17. I was dead sure that these guys in civil attire, black jackets and jeans, were part of the extremists who have assaulted us many times before. The first 40-45 seconds, when I was being dragged away by a police officer, I thought I was being taken to be killed. This is a long enough time to have the thoughts of this kind. This experience I find very hard to even remember, relive, let alone speak about it.

As a feminist activist, I find the experience I get from frequent use of the Internet and social networks difficult to digest. I am forced to read abusive, consumerist, objectifying posts and articles referring to women on a daily basis, feeling that all this is written about me too, about any one of us. When you walk the streets tomorrow, you will come across these people who have been posting that you are stupid, unskilled, you should not sit behind the wheel, you must stay at home, and so on and so forth. All this concerns you just as it concerns anybody. It does not matter how many books you’ve read, what position you hold at work, how many flags and feminist poster you have held in your hand – this is about you. Ninety of one hundred people write this about you. This is a daily trauma which is quite stressful in the long run. Sometimes I think that the experience of physical violence gives you more power, makes you want to oppose, you have the leverages to demand punishment of the aggressor. But in these cases, you cannot do anything, other than sit at the keyboard and swear at one another. Finally you find it useless to argue, and you just read, read, how they do not see you as a human, how much you are hated by the very people you will meet in the public transport tomorrow.”

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Before getting there, I walked a long and difficult road. For a long time I was a homophobe. I had radical, patriotic ideas bordering on nationalism, which basically means that you must a priori hate all gay people or people of different sexual orientation. I was a heterosexual, submissive Georgian woman, a strict follower of traditions – the definition of “a true Georgian woman”, bearing the values the school and the general society had instilled in me since childhood. I idealized Georgia and being Georgian and I interpreted everything as I was taught by my schoolteachers. I was fearful of “globalization” because it was associated with rejection of traditions and perversion. I was dead sure that in order to maintain my nationality, I had to have a negative attitude to the people of another race, religion, and especially, sexual orientation – we needed to keep them away. I mean, I had awful ideas, a wrong understanding of my country and my nationality, even though I believed with all my heart that I was one of those people who wanted to save Georgia.

On one day, my frame of mind was totally upset. I was 19 when my best friend came out to me. She had had to endure my hostile ideas about gay people (that we need to drive them away, get rid of them, they’d better die). Because of my attitude, she had had to conceal a very important aspect of her life from her best friend. She had lived in a lie all her life and she couldn’t stand it any longer. She decided to either lose me, or to be with me. I needed only one day, not more. I was so shaken that I cried all night. I cried because I realized what a terrible person I’d been. How could I have lived in hatred, without realizing that I was hurting people? And I had been hurting my closest person for blindly believing in some abstract notions that had been pushed down my throat. All of my superstitions, stereotypes and hateful ideas were gone in a day. Since then, my life took a very different direction.

After that day, I have talked, discussed and argued about equality of LGBT people with everyone – my family, my friends, whenever I have the time, the place and the means to do it. In a short time, I found out that my other close friends had also hidden their sexual orientation from me. What I mean to say is that, by our hatred and homophobia we force people to conceal their true identity, their true self.

If not my friend’s brave decision to come out to me, who knows how long I would have been in darkness, living by the forced, distant, lofty notions that guided me through adolescence. I hadn’t had any actual awareness, I didn’t have a clue. After coming-out of my friends, I started pushing my limits and overcoming my stereotypes step-by-step. The first step was when I started asking myself questions, I opened up and become freer. It became natural for me to love someone regardless of their sexuality, but it was a long process, which lasted for a few years.

I realized how difficult it is to admit to yourself that you are part of the society who is laughed at, scolded and marginalized by the majority. It is such a big pressure, that it is quite a feat to confess it even to yourself. It is one thing to talk about others, but completely different when you are in that situation. It is extremely hard.

I am grateful to my friends and my life for giving me a chance to realize that it is a shame to conceal what is in fact beautiful. Being different is something to be proud of, rather than hide it. After this difficult process, I am happy that I chose to fight – fight for the rights of all the people so that they are not afraid of being different, colorful and beautiful.

I have loved only once. Up until now, I still love that person with all my heart. I think this is the kindest, cutest and best person I’ve ever known. What does it matter if this person is a girl or a boy? How can gender gauge the honesty, quality of our love, or my or her humanity? Love lies beyond the sex, gender and identity of people.

I am doing my best to bring the harm I inflict on the world to the minimum and I think it should be manifested in every aspect of our life – towards plants, animals and the nature in general. I am a vegetarian, I do not litter streets or cut trees, I walk most of my time, and I try to be involved in activism. Yet, all some people need to hear is that I am queer, to label me as corrupt, bad, and unacceptable. Why am I corrupted? Is it because I think that every person has the right to love and be with whoever they want to?”

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Discrimination, violence, bulling – everything started from school. They used to lock me inside a closet, throw explosives into it and yell: „Do you like being in the dark, you pederast? Would you like to have some male with you there?“ Or they would put a garbage can on my head and hit me with a broom… 13-14-year old children did that to me.

During the school years, I used the toilet only once and only the teachers’ toilet. I was rather afraid because I knew what was going to happen there – that I would be bullied, intimidated, that I would be treated badly and would face discrimination. I used to cry a lot… But I could not say anything at home. I could not say that they called me ‘pederast’. It was doubly difficult to confess this. I was scared and ashamed at the same time.

I was subject to physical and psychological violence at home as well. My brothers (one of them was 2 years older, and the other 7 years older than me), who were disgusted with me, would make respective comments. They would take the family photo album and cut out my face or paste to it a picture of some famous soccer player. Moreover, I had one toy, Teddy bear, which I loved very much. The toy had a plastic head. They would hit me with this toy because they knew that it would be more painful. And these were my own brothers who did that to me.

Currently my mother is my best friends and supporter. She is the person who accepted me the way I am. She is the person who has always supported me. There are no secrets between us. My Mom is the one person I can rely on.
However, I am still afraid. I am scared because those 13-14-year old boys that used to bully me at school, are around me today. I am afraid of the recurrence of those things I used to endure for years“.

The post Fatima Romanova, 27, Tbilisi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

When I told one of my friends about my sexual orientation and she accepted that normally, I relaxed and came out to others. I came out to my childhood friends, although I was rather nervous but they had a very cute reaction, they hugged me. I have already come out to all of my friends. One of my friends told me later that she had felt a big discomfort whenever people around her had said homophobic things.

The people in my current work environment are non-homophobic. But the environment at my previous job, where there were only males, was homophobic and sexist. All that really got on my nerves. They used to say very sexist jokes and never thought that this could have hurt a person sitting next to them.

I wish my sexual orientation were an ordinary phenomenon so that I would not have to call it some name. I do not want people to focus on my clothing style and do not want to be pushed by environment to fit myself into one style. I do not like those gender stereotypes. Sometimes I may wear rather feminine clothes but at other times quite the opposite, I may dress masculine. And I do not want this to become the matter of discussion.
I want these attitudes to change so much! I want to live freely, to have parades similar to those held in other countries. I do not want some groups to be marginalized. I want society to be free from phobias. But I think the attitudes have changed a bit. People talk more about homosexuality, which has consequently increased aggression. But I think this aggression will fade away after we get through this stage.“

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