My name is Jayce. I’m a 35-year old trans man. I work as a field IT engineer for a national airline. I lived in Florida for 9 years. When Trump started his second term, I realized this could get bad for me really fast – especially because I work in airports. In December 2024, I decided to leave Florida and move to Baltimore for my safety and mental health. 

Growing up, I was a military kid, so I’ve moved around a bit. I went to middle school and high school in Delaware and went to college in Maryland. I stayed at my mom's for a little while after undergrad, then I moved to Florida in 2016.

Coming from a small state like Delaware, Florida was great. I had pretty good savings from living at my mom’s for a while. I went down to Fort Lauderdale because I got into this IT bootcamp. I had very little, but I was happy because I felt free. I was doing my own thing. I lived on the beach, so I just went to the beach everyday.

This was pre-transition, so I also felt the need to get away from home to start that process. I don’t know if I knew that totally in that moment, but I knew I had to get away from home to spread my wings.

When the political climate changed, I was anxious every day just using public bathrooms.

In Broward County, where I lived in Fort Lauderdale, it’s very blue. It’s almost like a little incubator.

I didn’t realize how wild the rest of Florida is until you get out of that county, When you start getting up into Palm Beach County, where now they’ve changed the name of Palm Beach County Airport to Donald Trump Airport… and when DeSantis started getting wilder when he won governor, and he started repealing trans rights… that’s when I thought to myself, “It’s time to get outta here.” Especially because I work in airports.

Politicians made it illegal for us to go to the bathroom in federal buildings – including airports. Even though I pass as cis, it is still anxiety-inducing when I went to the bathroom. A lot of the airports I worked in my region were all in Florida: Miami, Palm Beach, Fort Lauderdale, Tampa, Sarasota, Orlando – these are all places I’m traveling consistently. And it’s not like it has to be a bad day everyday. All it takes is one time.

Every second, you need to be cognizant of, “Who’s coming to the bathroom? Who’s lingering in the bathroom? Are they following me in here? Or did we just happen to go here at the same time?”

And everyone carries guns in Florida. So what does Stand Your Ground look like for me as a trans guy? It was just really anxiety-inducing. I never had any problems, but it’s just the fear of maybe having issues.

And the fear of my job, because I’m stealth at work. I’m not out at work, so what happens if I have this issue in the bathroom, or in any government facility? What does protection look like? What does my safety look like even after the incident? A lot of these thoughts started to just build up in the back of my mind.

The political climate wasn’t the only reason I moved

One thing I did not like about Florida – and this is my personal experience – it felt like a lot of relationships were very transactional within community. I kept getting this feeling from people like, “What can I get from you? If I can’t get nothing from you, then we don’t really have a relationship.”

So the people that I thought I was close with, we wind up falling out. The one person who was a genuine friend to me, she passed away – God rest her soul. So I felt kind of isolated. I did have a girlfriend at the time, but that became toxic and we broke up.

I chose Baltimore because I felt like I was coming back to a support system. My sister’s here. My niece had just been born. My mom and dad are so close. I knew I wanted to be closer to family because we had just experienced tragedy. My sister’s boyfriend and the father of her child, he had got murdered in August 2024.

I thought to myself, “When my lease is up, I’m leaving.” That was the scary thing, too, like, “Damn, I need this money.” I don’t know if I had a number in mind specifically, but I had to dial back on spending.

I did pick up a part-time job, training kids’ basketball. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

I knew I would get a little moving assistance from my job. They gave me $2,000, which isn’t a lot, but in terms of making a cross-country move, it at least covered the truck rental. That's another thing — I had to make sure that my job would let me transfer.

I knew I was gonna get a big security deposit back from my apartment in Florida, because down there, they make you pay first, last, and security deposit. So I knew I would be getting that money back. I probably had $4,000 saved, then the $2,000 I got from my job.

When I left my family, I was a 25-year-old masc-presenting lesbian. Now, going back as a trans man in my thirties, how am I gonna navigate this?

Moving was bittersweet. It was almost like being in a bad relationship, too. It’s like, you know it’s probably for the best, but it doesn’t make you feel good. I love the weather in Florida. I love being so close to the beach because I love water. I’m a water baby. I love surfing and just hanging out on the beach.

Part of it was also that I felt like I was failing coming back home. I think it’s called preemptive grief, or preemptive anxiety.

I transitioned when I was in Florida, and now I had to be near my family again. So I thought to myself: Who am I gonna become now, being closer to my family? What boundaries do I have to put up? Who can I be as Grown Man Jayce going back?

Because when I left, I was a 25-year-old masc-presenting lesbian. So now, going back as a trans guy in my thirties, how am I gonna navigate this? That was scary, too.

I do miss the weather in Florida sometimes, but my mental health is so much better. I feel a little more free to just breathe.

I feel like I’ve really built community. Baltimore gets a lot of bad media, mostly due to racism. But the people here are so kind, so friendly. Even a lot of the queer events, especially in the summer, it has a backyard-cookout sort of feeling. Baltimore also has a real art scene because we have MICA, the Maryland Institute of Contemporary Art, so it’s a lot of artsy queers.

Looking around, you can definitely see how the city is being gentrified. I think this is a place where they really will accept you as long as you respect the locals. It’s really easy for transplants to come in and be critical. Sometimes, you just gotta shut up and get in where you fit in. Just be cool. You gotta be in community a little while before you critique people and where they’re from.

Baltimore is a smaller city that feels overshadowed by D.C. I think Baltimoreans like, “Welcome to my city! Let me show you my city!” There’s a lot of pride in their city that they want people to experience. Baltimoreans are very, very kind people.

I understand it may sound woo-woo or privileged – and I do recognize my privilege. If you're thinking about moving from your state but you can't afford it, just find one friend or find community virtually. Maybe you can't move right now, but maybe this community can come through for you while you're saving up. Someone might be like, "Hey, I got a room that opened up."

Shit just be happening! Sometimes when you start to move, the world just opens up for you. That sounds like bullshit, I know. You might not be able to run right now. But you might could crawl. Just crawl and be okay with crawling. You're making progress even when it feels hard.

Especially now, the only way we’re going to survive this bullshit that we’re going through is community-centered care. So lean on that. And be a part of the community so people can lean on you as well.