Introducing Transtrender

A note on what’s in store

Hi, it’s me, you’re all in danger… of another gay person with a Substack.

If you are reading this, I want to start with a wholehearted thank you for subscribing. I have been so touched by the support I received launching this quaint newsletter, from close friends to Tinder-dates-turned-Instagram-story-viewers. Frankly, it’s the best outcome for a fizzled relationship. Every heart on a story is like a fat kiss on the lips. A Substack subscription is third base.

My New Year’s resolution was to create more and consume less, which shouldn’t be difficult, since I created virtually nothing last year and consumed endless soul-sucking TikToks and Reels. But if you never let go of the delusion that you are one TikTok away from becoming the next Emma Chamberlain, consumption can become something like creation. I’m doing market research is all, bookmarking trends for my big break. Duh.

Every week, I will share a piece of myself through personal narratives and essays seeking to illuminate dimly lit corners of the human experience. I hope this newsletter – the fact that I told people I’m launching something and feel accountable to that promise – will be like a stern Eastern European schoolmaster forcing me to create. “WRITE!” Helga will bark with a thick accent, whipping my hand with a ruler when I try to put my pencil down and pick my phone up. Because if this doesn’t work, it’s back to googling MBA programs.

Too often, I am handicapped by my fear of imperfection, so this newsletter is also an exercise in letting go and letting God. That means my writing may not always be the most polished. For example, the Eastern European metaphor – a little banal? Problematic even? But we ball* (*write.) Socrates probably had to be incisive in every proverbial missive, weighted by his responsibility to the Greek consciousness. But this isn’t an etched stone. It’s Substack, and Socrates didn’t have to worry about posting consistently for the algorithm.

The combination of growing up with unrestricted internet access and queer sensibility in a conservative community is like injecting your brain with radioactive nuclear sludge. It gives you an anti-hero superpower to transgress binaries and defy gravity. It’s why I received my Master’s degree on a full scholarship while spending weekends doing shoddy drugs in Brooklyn warehouses (I know, many such cases.) Cigarettes and tofu, or whatever Gwyneth said. My writing is an effigy to that delicate tightrope. This newsletter is a ticket to the circus, to watch me balance and strain.

Look out for my first piece next Thursday on the horrors of the holidays. Thank you again for subscribing, I hope you find something meaningful in what I offer. Here’s to exploring the mess of it all together.