Tj Lucas-Box 

(He/Him)

I was that little “girl" at ballet who ripped their leotard off as soon as it was on. The little kid that tore off any dress that I was forced to wear. The little “girl” that played with the boys because I thought I was one of them, not because I was a “tomboy” like everyone would say. I was always a boy. I was always the brother, I just didn’t know the outside wouldn’t match what I expected or who I thought I was. I never had the vocabulary to vocalise how I felt, or the understanding to even know if what I was feeling was explainable. Did anyone else feel the way I did? Had there ever been anyone else like me before? 

As someone who has gone through a journey and mixture of gender exploration through expression and identity, much has changed over the years. Although I am confident in saying I have finally found home in my identity as a trans man who is masculine, it hasn’t always been that way. Before my 20s, where I was living as a ‘straight woman’, I felt such a pressure to dress and appear how society usually wants a woman to present. I would try my absolute hardest to wear a dress every now and then or straighten my hair, put makeup on and anything else that could try and make sure everyone believed I was a girl and wouldn’t question anything. 

I was late to really understand even what the term “gay” or “lesbian” meant, it was only when I joined an “all girls” football team where I finally understood what it meant. This time was quite confusing but also comforting. Gender identity and sexuality are very different things and both of these can change or come to light at any time for an individual throughout their life. For me, even when moving to Brighton and soon after finding a weird sense of safety within the ‘gay scene’, I still never 100% felt like I fully fit in. Whenever anyone asked what my sexuality was, I still felt straight, even though I was still presenting as a woman and had started to be intimately involved with women. This was the confusing part that all makes sense now, but we will come back to this. 

For half a decade the gay scene and environments was my home. It was the closest thing I could experience where I didn’t feel like a complete alien. Here is where I finally started to experience a change and exploration with gender expression. I decided to impulsively cut my hair super short, bleached it blonde and suddenly gave up on what I felt society wanted me to wear, and only wore “men’s” clothing. At this point, although I was still extremely self-conscious, I felt… lighter? 

Since puberty I had an extreme sadness about my chest; it wasn’t what it was meant to be like. I grew up always envisioning a flat, classic “masculine chest” with pecs. I basically grew up looking at my brothers in awe, along with confusion as to why I hadn’t turned out looking similar to them. 

Although I finally found a sense of relief in more “masculine” and baggy clothing, it dawned on me I was just trying to hide my body as much as possible. The tightest sports bras I could find. Even though I lived in one of the gay capitals of the UK, I still didn’t know what the queer community was, what transgender was or where those people were. There was no visibility for me growing up. In my early 20s I started getting heavily tattooed. I realised with tattoos on my body (which usually were meaningful pieces), I would look at them when I looked in the mirror instead of the many parts I hated. I now know tattoos enabled me to cope with what I was feeling. For a long time, I believe tattoos along with the masculine clothing was giving me the only gender euphoria I could feel at the time. 

I would say my style was always quite surfer/skater, and I would always wear the darker colours during those years. I didn’t want to appear bold or striking, even though getting heavily tattooed kind of had the opposite effect. However, thinking that people were then looking at me because of my tattoos made it easier, and the self-conscious thoughts more manageable. I suppose my tattoos were my aesthetic for a long time. People would compliment them a lot, so it made me feel good. The only part that made me feel good for years. 

The dreaded Covid pandemic happened and lockdown commenced. For so many it wasn’t a good time but for me, it honestly saved my life. I really needed an opportunity of the world “shutting away” and to be able to truly sit with myself, without any societal pressures, to truly figure out how I felt. I wasn’t living the best lifestyle before lockdown purely due to how much I was struggling with everything inside. It took me 26 years, a lot of suppression, bad things in between and a lockdown to finally get to the eureka moment of pure self acceptance, respect and love to realise that I was trans. It took me a while to truly accept I was a trans man, however. In the early moments of my “coming out”, I came out as ‘Transmasc/ Non-Binary’ and used ‘They/Them’ pronouns. I was scared; due to previous trauma, I was fighting identifying as a man, I didn’t want to be in that category. I will always be a feminist at heart, if not more now due to experiencing male privilege. 

Tj Lucas-Box 

(He/Him)

I was that little “girl" at ballet who ripped their leotard off as soon as it was on. The little kid that tore off any dress that I was forced to wear. The little “girl” that played with the boys because I thought I was one of them, not because I was a “tomboy” like everyone would say. I was always a boy. I was always the brother, I just didn’t know the outside wouldn’t match what I expected or who I thought I was. I never had the vocabulary to vocalise how I felt, or the understanding to even know if what I was feeling was explainable. Did anyone else feel the way I did? Had there ever been anyone else like me before? 

As someone who has gone through a journey and mixture of gender exploration through expression and identity, much has changed over the years. Although I am confident in saying I have finally found home in my identity as a trans man who is masculine, it hasn’t always been that way. Before my 20s, where I was living as a ‘straight woman’, I felt such a pressure to dress and appear how society usually wants a woman to present. I would try my absolute hardest to wear a dress every now and then or straighten my hair, put makeup on and anything else that could try and make sure everyone believed I was a girl and wouldn’t question anything. 

I was late to really understand even what the term “gay” or “lesbian” meant, it was only when I joined an “all girls” football team where I finally understood what it meant. This time was quite confusing but also comforting. Gender identity and sexuality are very different things and both of these can change or come to light at any time for an individual throughout their life. For me, even when moving to Brighton and soon after finding a weird sense of safety within the ‘gay scene’, I still never 100% felt like I fully fit in. Whenever anyone asked what my sexuality was, I still felt straight, even though I was still presenting as a woman and had started to be intimately involved with women. This was the confusing part that all makes sense now, but we will come back to this. 

For half a decade the gay scene and environments was my home. It was the closest thing I could experience where I didn’t feel like a complete alien. Here is where I finally started to experience a change and exploration with gender expression. I decided to impulsively cut my hair super short, bleached it blonde and suddenly gave up on what I felt society wanted me to wear, and only wore “men’s” clothing. At this point, although I was still extremely self-conscious, I felt… lighter? 

Since puberty I had an extreme sadness about my chest; it wasn’t what it was meant to be like. I grew up always envisioning a flat, classic “masculine chest” with pecs. I basically grew up looking at my brothers in awe, along with confusion as to why I hadn’t turned out looking similar to them. 

Although I finally found a sense of relief in more “masculine” and baggy clothing, it dawned on me I was just trying to hide my body as much as possible. The tightest sports bras I could find. Even though I lived in one of the gay capitals of the UK, I still didn’t know what the queer community was, what transgender was or where those people were. There was no visibility for me growing up. In my early 20s I started getting heavily tattooed. I realised with tattoos on my body (which usually were meaningful pieces), I would look at them when I looked in the mirror instead of the many parts I hated. I now know tattoos enabled me to cope with what I was feeling. For a long time, I believe tattoos along with the masculine clothing was giving me the only gender euphoria I could feel at the time. 

I would say my style was always quite surfer/skater, and I would always wear the darker colours during those years. I didn’t want to appear bold or striking, even though getting heavily tattooed kind of had the opposite effect. However, thinking that people were then looking at me because of my tattoos made it easier, and the self-conscious thoughts more manageable. I suppose my tattoos were my aesthetic for a long time. People would compliment them a lot, so it made me feel good. The only part that made me feel good for years. 

The dreaded Covid pandemic happened and lockdown commenced. For so many it wasn’t a good time but for me, it honestly saved my life. I really needed an opportunity of the world “shutting away” and to be able to truly sit with myself, without any societal pressures, to truly figure out how I felt. I wasn’t living the best lifestyle before lockdown purely due to how much I was struggling with everything inside. It took me 26 years, a lot of suppression, bad things in between and a lockdown to finally get to the eureka moment of pure self acceptance, respect and love to realise that I was trans. It took me a while to truly accept I was a trans man, however. In the early moments of my “coming out”, I came out as ‘Transmasc/ Non-Binary’ and used ‘They/Them’ pronouns. I was scared; due to previous trauma, I was fighting identifying as a man, I didn’t want to be in that category. I will always be a feminist at heart, if not more now due to experiencing male privilege. 

During the period of identifying as trans/non-binary, I reached a new phase of experimenting with clothing. I would try and tape or bind my chest, but I really struggled with both due to sensory issues. Oh yeah… I am also Autistic and have ADHD. I was lately diagnosed, but it actually helped explain a lot, like how I was able to mirror other girls and learn to “blend”. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, clothing, tape and binding… so I struggled with doing that, which wasn’t helpful due to my intense gender dysphoria, mainly with my chest. However, that incredible feeling of seeing a t-shirt fall effortlessly down the front of my body… Being able to wear my boxy fits and look in the mirror or see photos where my chest is flat was extremely euphoric. 

I got ‘top-surgery’ two and a half years ago and what a life changing event this was. It is an experience I still can’t quite put into words. It was the biggest gender euphoric moment I have felt within my body itself, but also when I looked down at my chest for the first time after surgery it felt like it had always been flat? A month after surgery I started testosterone, which over the last couple of years has also changed my body further. I entered the next phase of gender euphoria. The broader shoulders, the hair on my belly and chest, the fair beard starting to slowly form on my face were traits and changes I didn’t realise that I would love as much as I do.

Since experiencing the ultimate gender euphoria, my choice of clothing and aesthetic has evolved. I now prefer less baggy tops and hoodies. I still love my skater/surfer vibe, but also have found a love for buttoned up shirts, 3/4 fleeces, tighter t-shirts and bolder/brighter colours. The way I feel in a casual and/or a dinner suit…. Oooft, I feel powerful, I feel confident. I am becoming the man that I never thought the world would allow me to be (although the world doesn’t make it easy). I have really started to feel a true comfort in who I am. The euphoria I feel every time I change and try on something new that I wouldn’t have liked before but maybe I would like more now. 

This is my experience, and a short description for sure. I have actually shared my different experiences and journey through social media for the last decade. My relationship with it was always positive. It was the only space where I felt I could express myself at every period of my journey but also the only place I eventually found awareness and visibility of different parts of the LGBTQ+ communities, especially trans/non-binary people. I aim to continue to be one of the visible beacons for anyone who needs it, who needs to hear that it’s not always linear and that you can experiment/ take your time and that they are not alone. 

I said I wanted to enter my 30s as me, the me I always wanted to be. 

I just turned 30, as me, the me I always felt I was and wanted to be. 

I found euphoria. I found comfort. I found me. 

A bit about Tj:

“Tj (He/Him) is a social change maker and LGBTQ+ advocate, striving to continuously create visibility around minority groups, especially the trans/non-binary communities. With over 75,000 followers on instagram, he has spent nearly a decade sharing his journey, the good and the bad, whilst documenting vital information about his transition and health experiences. Tj is passionate about intersectionality and collaboration whilst providing positive toolkits to allies to help them better understand how to show up for the communities. Tj has co-founded and chairs a diversity network association within the organisation they work in and also has newly become a panel member for a well known mental health charity to try and help towards improving the mental health services within the NHS”.