It started in the sixth grade, the feeling that I was different somehow. But I couldn’t put my finger on what it was exactly; I didn’t yet have the vocabulary. When I turned 16 or 17, I thought maybe I was gay—that’s certainly what other people seemed to think, and online searches told me that’s what men who are attracted to men are called, so that’s how I began to identify myself.

But that wasn’t it either—the profile didn’t fit. I was so confused and found this so frustrating, so overwhelming, that I actually attempted to end my own life on two occasions, but thankfully didn’t succeed.

One day, there was a program on Nepal Television that opened my eyes to who I really was: even though I was born a boy, I realized I was a transgender woman. The revelation was shocking for me, to say the least. Although it rendered my identity a bit clearer, which was a relief, it also complicated matters more, because now I was certain that I could not carry on with life as I knew it: I would either have to come clean to everyone, which I was not ready to do, or run.

I chose the latter, and went to Cyprus on the pretext of studying. Meanwhile, family members in Nepal were putting pressure on me to get married, to settle down. I kept putting it off, but I knew that once I returned to Kathmandu, there would be no more excuses. And if I gave in to my family’s wishes, not only would I be relegating myself to a lifetime of unhappiness, but the poor girl would as well. I couldn’t do that, so when I landed in Nepal, I didn’t go home.

For two years after that, I hid from my family. It was only after a photo of me was published in a local paper that they found out about me, and who I was. My mother refused to talk to me for a long time, which was very painful.

Today, however, they’ve accepted me—to an extent, anyway. They’ve resigned themselves to the fact that this is my reality, that it’s not going to change, and that I am doing some good work. Still, there are barriers between us that have not yet gone away.

Paper Achievements

One can’t deny that progress has definitely been made in Nepal with regard to LGBTI rights. LGBTI identity is now legally recognized, which is great. But even though the government says all citizens enjoy equal rights, our community has yet to fully claim these rights, because our access and opportunities to enjoy them are still limited. So there’s still a significant disconnect between what’s promised on paper and our everyday reality.

For instance, there are very few fields in which LGBTI people are openly employed, where they are visible—this is proof of the lack of opportunities made available to them. And a dearth of employment opportunities translates to difficulties in supporting ourselves financially. Several LGBTI people have gotten jobs at the Blue Diamond Society and the Federation of Sexual and Gender Minorities Nepal, and the donor-supported programs they run. But for the rest, options are scarce, particularly for transgender persons, forcing many into the sex trade for the sake of survival.

This has, in a way, also reinforced the common assumption people have about transgender people being sexually promiscuous. It’s because of this that you often encounter a lot of physical harassment, inappropriate touching, particularly while traveling. People are quick to taunt, but they don’t even try to understand the real reason so many transgender people are in the sex trade—that the rejection by family and society that have led them there.

Needless to say, we still encounter problematic behavior, whether direct or indirect, on a daily basis. Just today, I was at a restaurant and got a lot of judgmental stares because of my voice—I look like a woman, but sound like a man. That might not seem like a big deal, but it’s not always about a single dramatic event, is it? Just being called something nasty when walking down a street, for instance, can have a deep impact. These little things—taunts, looks—they add up.

In terms of our influence in decision-making processes, it is only possible if we are represented by someone who has lived our reality, and who has first-hand experience of our struggles. Having Sunil Babu Pant as a member of the Constituent Assembly was a big triumph for the community, and he certainly did a lot for us—the Constitution reflects that. But in the recent elections, we were once again rendered invisible.

All this shows that while change has come, it hasn’t happened at the pace—or achieved the depth—that we had hoped for; people’s mindsets are still much the same, and until this is the case, the community cannot rest easy or feel that they are “equal” in any way.

Solutions in the SDGs

Health and well-being are a key issue in the community. Many transgender people need to take hormones regularly, and some even elect to have surgery—procedures that are very costly. There are no hormone specialists in Nepal, so a lot of transgender people self-medicate, taking birth control pills, for example, which raises the risk of cancer. This just goes to show how desperate these people really are, that they would put their lives at risk just so they can embrace their true selves.

It’s not just about physical illness, of course; social and mental well-being are just as important. The very fact of having to hide who you are, and the discrimination that you encounter when you do come out, is deeply impacting, and can lead to depression and suicidal thoughts.

We realize that a lot of the stigma around us is owing to lack of awareness, which is why we frequently visit schools and colleges to talk to young people about sexuality and diversity. But unless this sort of effort is institutionalized by the government—much as it has been with bringing the practice of Chhaupadi to an end—we won’t be able to have as widespread an effect.

This is where the UN comes in, to advocate on our behalf, to push the government to better protect LGBTI rights, and to create equal opportunities for people of all genders and sexualities to lead lives of dignity. Perhaps the donor community could also take these causes into account when providing financial support to entities in the country.

Opportunities could also be provided by the private sector, because that’s where most of the jobs are, after all. Partnerships with the LGBTI community could be a chance to demonstrate corporate social responsibility.

Essentially, our problems and demands coincide with the core mantra of the SDGs, which is to leave no one behind in all areas, including in decision-making, education, and employment, among others. Until and unless the LGBTI community is socially and economically empowered and brought into the mainstream of public life, whatever “progress” we might make on paper will be meaningless.

More articles (Development Advocate 2019)