I’m thirteen years old, openly living as my true self both in real life and online. Remote learning for middle school hasn’t been ideal, but it’s not been a complete disaster for me. My sister and I spend a lot of time online—perhaps too much, according to our parents—mostly playing games on Roblox. Roblox isn’t just a single game; it’s a platform filled with various games like Adopt Me, Bloxburg, and Murder Mystery 2. According to Wikipedia, over half of children aged 16 and under in the U.S. play Roblox. Surprisingly, it’s not viewed as “cool” like some other games, leading many kids my age to deny playing it even when they do.
We often plead for our chore money early to buy Robux, allowing us to create avatars that express who we are. As a gay, trans boy, my avatars sometimes raise eyebrows or attract bullying. Roblox does a decent job of filtering slurs into hashtags, yet bullies still find ways to convey their messages of hate.
I’ve encountered every form of troll possible in these games. There are the religious trolls, whose avatars flaunt cross necklaces while telling LGBTQ+ kids they’re destined for hell. Then there are the racist trolls who use phrases like “All Lives Matter” as usernames. The transphobic and homophobic trolls are numerous and can be identified by their avatars wearing shirts with rainbows paired with a vomiting emoji or a red circle crossed over a rainbow. When I enter a server and spot a group of them, I typically leave immediately. Sadly, many of these trolls seem drawn to LGBTQ+ servers.
The online world has subjected me to far more hate than I’ve experienced in real life. Parents who think their kids are incapable of being homophobic, transphobic, or racist should take some time to check out Roblox servers where their children spend time. The hateful imagery and slogans are prevalent and alarming.
Though bullying is tough, I’m confident in my identity and have found supportive friends online—some are trans, gay, pan, or questioning, while many are cisgender heterosexuals. Unlike the real world, I can simply leave a server filled with bullies at any moment.
Through Roblox, I even met my Spanish-speaking boyfriend. We dated for a few months, chatting on FaceTime and gaming together in Spanish servers. I was heartbroken when that relationship ended, but on the bright side, I picked up Spanish to communicate with him and his friends, and now I’m acing Spanish 1.
This past year has been challenging, yet I’m grateful for the online connections I’ve made. I co-authored a picture book about coming out as transgender titled I’m Not a Girl, which was released in August—nearly three years after my friend and I first drafted it. Publishing takes time, and we were eager for the release until the pandemic disrupted everything. We managed a few virtual events, but promotion was limited as bookstores closed, and signings were postponed or canceled.
In the past year, I’ve auditioned for acting roles remotely, cared for chickens, ridden horses, and helped at birthday parties. I’ve read several books, binge-watched Anime, and made some wonderful online friends. My parents cut off internet access at 4 p.m. daily, so my sister and I often find ourselves at the park for some “forced fun” to soak up some sun. Since March, our family has streamed every episode of shows like Schitt’s Creek, Ted Lasso, and The Good Place.
While the pandemic is challenging, I feel fortunate to be an LGBTQ+ individual in a supportive home during this time. I have friends who are either scared to come out to their parents or who have come out only to face disbelief or lack of support.
I’m looking forward to returning to in-person middle school—I hope it’s not delayed until high school in the fall. I also can’t wait to get back to the ice rink and see family and friends again. I am eager to resume my advocacy work, sharing my coming out experience and what it means to be a transgender boy.
I’m excited about returning to “normal” life and hope it happens soon. Until then, I’ll keep engaging online.
Leave a Reply