When I first set foot on this journey of transitioning into my actual, true gender (that being (mostly) binarily male), the hate and contempt I held for my body grew and grew. Trying to pass as the person I saw and felt within myself was very frustrating as a newly out transgender person. The aching despair at being perceived as one thing when trying so hard to be seen as I truly am inside before I started my hormone replacement treatment (or even when I had just started) festered and roiled within me.

For a good two years I was hyper aware of everything wrong about my body and it’s mannerisms - how high my voice was before it dropped with testosterone, how feminine and round my face was, the way my chest looked even when I would bind it tight with sports bras and the like. I would worry about crossing my legs in public, speaking to people and having them hear the feminine lilt of my voice. The anxiety that consumed me in public continued in private, my breasts and hips taunting me, my body merely existing only adding to my mounting anger and disgust for it in my gut.

But suddenly it was a year and a bit on hormones and my pronouns were automatically "he/him" to perfect strangers, my breasts small enough to hide under a shirt (or two) without the constraint of fabric tying them down. My voice and new facial hair helped in making my body a home, soothing my social dysphoria as others embraced me as a man. 

Even further into my journey of self love and acceptance now, all of this turmoil and self loathing smoothed out and quieted in my head. For the first time since I stepped out as my true self I could hear above the din of that chaos and I could see through the shroud of my dysphoria. 

Through the beautiful communities and friends within that swath of folks like me that lie outside the gender binary - I found myself coming to a few realizations, all very important. One, that my self hate and admonishments were all done in order to fit into a binary I never wanted to. I felt shoved into this so that the public and other trans folks would deem me to be "truly trans"; a pitfall many young and fresh faced trans individuals fall into in the beginning of their transitions. 

Secondly, that I don't hate every part of my body and that that fact does not negate my transness. Many people believe that to be transgender you must hate every part of your body, to wholly hate yourself for not fitting the cookie cutter definition of the two roles society gives us: man or woman. What this idea conveniently leaves out is that there are and have been countless trans individuals that exist beyond that binary and do not necessarily despise their bodies but instead experience dysphoria in many other ways. That simply existing as transgender we will never be deemed cisgender (a term for a non-transgender person) by society.

The idea that I had to perfectly mirror society's view of what a cisgender man physically and mentally should be wrought more pain and needless suffering on me then my dysphoria ever did. That same idea has forced babies born outside of the norm as intersex to have surgeries foisted upon them, sometimes even without the parents full knowledge, to conform to this rigid binary. 

As I delved deeper into myself, discovering and exploring my sexuality in further detail, I came to the realization that that rigid view of what a man is is a cage I do not subscribe to. I wear these ropes in my photos with Lady Luck Photography as an ode to my body and rebellion to the sexual and gender norms of our world; as an acknowledgement that even if these breasts have me appear visibly trans rather than as cis - it does not bother me. Neither does having my bottom parts; as when delving into the waters of my sexuality I came to realize that the norms of a strictly monogamous and heterosexual society where a straight cisgender man will be with an equally as straight cisgender woman do not apply to me. That I am not a pariah in the pool of dating and intimate relationship because of my body, a body I once thought of as defective or unworthy of love. That there are many individuals in the realm sexuality I am interested in - that of kink and BDSM - who fully embrace the diversity that exists in trans and non-normative communities. That I am worthy of the kind of love and devotion I crave. The idea that any sexual and non-vanilla relationship is sinful or disgusting dissipated as I found myself deep down inside.

Overall it comes down to me not being made to conform to the stereotypical mold in mind or body to that of a cisgender man. I exist beyond the binary, as many cultures and peoples around the world have done for centuries before me, and I exist calmly and boldly in that space. These colours, those of the transgender pride flag, are strewn up and down my body as a war paint against those toxic ideals that trample me and other gender nonconforming people, especially those not born with the privilege of a paler skin tone.
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As a dear friend of mine, Ivy (@cisturbed on Instagram), put it simply - "[I'm] beautiful because I'm trans, not despite it."

​- Sam

I’ve read all the blogs on Lady Luck’s website. I would be lying if I said I did not identify with much of what each of these models have already beautifully written. I highly suggest you take a few moments to read them. Each entry is so relevant (along with the end product of such awesome creative talent and so much fun)! You are likely to see a bit of yourself in the beautiful people who have been brave enough to take a good look at themselves and show the parts that either can’t be seen or have previously been too painful to risk exposing. Naming a life-shaping event, displaying a quirk, a talent, an interest that makes us unique or, a part of ourselves that previously was hidden out of misunderstanding, fear or loathing. Physical and emotional, Jennifer and company turn it all into a thing of beauty and celebration. A pivotal experience, a motivational piece.

I was the short, overweight, four-eyed, in-her-imagination kid and teen who never felt they belonged anywhere. Friendships and loyalties, even strong family bonds have been fleeting and fragile all my life, but not for lack of wanting or trying. It turns out it was a lack of understanding. Understanding how the mistakes of my earliest caregivers and mentors set me off looking for something that I wouldn’t ultimately find in someone else.  The understanding of how hurt people can hurt people, and no two people come from the same place or journey the same way at the same time.  The understanding that some people are truly special because they are conscientiously kind to others, even though they have themselves been hurt. This something was much closer and easier to obtain than I could have imagined until recently.

A very special person came into my life under the simplest, non-suspecting circumstances for a period that to me seemed far too short. They helped me with so much awareness of myself and what it means to love unconditionally. I would have never suspected that such people exist who could, without knowing and without really trying, heal such a variety of emotional wounds, from many people and situations that I had allowed to shape me and my self-concept so dishearteningly. For years I had wondered if I was ready to or had in fact, accomplished forgiveness of certain people for hurting me. I was already aware that I wanted healing but until I met this special person, the process felt incomplete and the sadness or anger would return in degrees and certain relationships never seemed to improve.

A perfect stranger turned into a friend and loved into me an awareness that I was beautiful inside and out. I was in awe that this perfect love I had chased and struggled with and never received was now mine. I began to forgive and reframe many old hurts from a place of unconditional love, like the one that was now being given to me. I began to take care of myself and feel truly beautiful, smart and appreciated. I trusted so implicitly and thought so highly of this person, who cared so beautifully for me, how could I not think highly of the person they thought highly of...myself? Part of my journey was learning about co-dependency and uncovering its roots in my story and changing toxic scenarios and relationships not just for my sake, from a space of unconditional love and a recognition that hurt people hurt people. I played a role that I hadn’t realized I was cast in and accepted only to become the most convincing actress; a willing participant of manipulative conditioning. One that I will never stop trying to defeat for the sake of mine and my children’s health and happiness.

As had been my guess based on the powerful feelings and changes taking place from this special person’s active presence and love in my life, our physical connection was only temporary. It has been difficult, as a truth seeker, to not have such a loving and illuminating presence with me. I cherish the memories and more so the knowledge that the relationship instilled in me. The wonderful thing is that love, and the things done in love, never really go away. There are times when I want to let myself slip…back to old ways of not being loving to myself…days when I struggle to respect the lesson that I do not need to give care to or save people from their own choices or equate having certain people in my life as a sign that I am valuable. Robbing someone of an opportunity to learn a genuine lesson…to prevent them from a journey, possibly like my own, goes against everything I’ve been through and stand for.
This experience has inspired me to dig deep and think about who I’ve been, who I am and who I will be. It is an opportunity for me to see myself both through my own eyes and the eyes of the one(s) who love me. It has shown me that it is not the opinion of others that makes my beauty, talents, strengths and gifts true…they just are.

The fact that I don’t celebrate them nearly often enough does not erase them. Having just turned 40 I feel that it is time to put focus onto my inner and outer beauty, in individuality, and celebrating the strength and courage that it takes to keep moving through a tough journey. I keep going and try to reflect this hope that so much beauty lies ahead and there are amazing people in the world who love despite weaknesses, flaws and hurts. I had the experience of one. I am one.

By caring for myself I am honouring the special person who helped me realize my beauty and unlimited potential, who asked nothing in return and never hesitated to forgive when I acted out of old beliefs instead of new and better knowing. This creative and collaborative process is a record of how far I have come, which will help me journey forward, not backward, just because I had previously been unable to see and feel my worth. Every time I see these pictures I will know the truth.


I am Brenda. My name means flaming sword. I am a healer. I am a recovering co-dependent. I am a diabetic and depressed individual who has been through a lot of emotional trauma in my life. My past doesn’t define me. I now define myself with truth and kindness. I actively choose to break cycles that hurt me and others. I am a sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, wife and most importantly mother of 3 amazing children. I am a special needs teacher and therapist to my son and an autism and special needs advocate. I am a Registered Nurse. I have welcomed life into the world, prevented sickness, healed the sick, helped save lives and been there to support those going home. I have made a difference in the lives of many patients and individuals.

I am highly principled and highly spirited. I have beautiful eyes and lips and a beautiful mind. I seek truth and justice in all I do. I love to sing with all my heart. I am intelligent, warm, compassionate and sensual. I have intuition and empathy in spades which I desire to help seekers and travelers by. I have dreams that I am still fulfilling. I enjoy reading, writing, history and learning languages. I long to travel within and without. I never want to stop learning. I am capable and strong. I lead when called to do so, without fear. I love people, all kinds of people.

I have many lovable and desirable qualities. I no longer need to focus on proofs of being unloved. No part of me is unlovable.  I inherently believe there were and are and will be more moments that I am given love and respect than I allow myself to see. I am love…loving and lovable…and I am grateful.

- Brenda

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