Gracie Cartier, a former hairstylist, now artist, performer, and public speaker from Philadelphia, knew from the age of 5 that there was something different about her. “I think society disregards children’s understanding of who they are. Some people do have an awakening later on in life,” she explained, “but I always felt like a woman deep inside.”
The issue was finding acceptance in the world around her. “My parents weren’t supportive in the beginning. I think they could tell I was gay but were still trying to force their own views onto me.” But before she found her identity and came out as trans, or even gay, Gracie was in a relationship with a woman. “I had a daughter two weeks before my 17th birthday. And by 18, I had come out of the closet as gay.”
“My mother was very accepting when I came out; she had a lot of gay friends. So the moment I came out, my mother dragged me out of the closet.” But Gracie’s mom had one caveat: “I don’t care if you’re gay as long as you don’t dress as a woman.” So, Gracie hid herself and her desire to be a woman for many years.
She became a part of the ballroom community, an LGBTQ+ subculture combining drag art, club music, and a specific style of dance known as “vogueing.” This was before the ballroom scene was more mainstream, as represented in the popular TV show Pose. “It was more of a secret society back then. And the first time I saw a woman that looked like how I felt inside was in ballroom.”
In the ballroom scene, drag queens and transgender women hold major influence and are often matriarchs of the community. “There was something so euphoric and goddess-like about them. To see these women fully in their divine feminine power was mesmerizing to me. It really resonated with me—that’s how I felt dressing in my mom’s clothes as a kid. That’s how I always felt on the inside.”
It still took some time and growth for Gracie to fully come to terms with her identity. The woman Gracie had a child with also came out as a lesbian, so now her kid had two LGBTQ+ parents, but she felt self-doubt when it came to her daughter. “On one side, I was proud, but on the other side, I felt that I let my daughter down. I thought, ‘how could I raise my daughter as a gay man? How could I become a good father and role model?’”
She threw herself into her career: doing hair, something she had been doing independently from her mother’s dining room since she was a teenager. Navigating the industry as a member of the LGBTQ+ community was not always easy: “I realized that although people were very embracing, sometimes I felt ickiness no matter where I went, the slight and overlook that we face is the very same reason why I’m proud to be apart of a resilient community.
“In my industry, I’ve found that LGBTQ+ people at times are only considered to fill a quota. It’s not always based on who we are, our uniqueness, or talent, but more because it’s the right thing to do, to make it seem like the industry moving forward and in a system that doesn’t support people like us."
It wasn’t until she was able to cultivate stability and success in her life that the question of her identity truly returned. “At the age of 37, I was well established, at the height of my career. I had a beautiful home, just got nominated for an Emmy, but I was so unhappy. I thought, ‘Why am I so unhappy?’” The answer was simple: “I wasn’t living in my truth.” Gracie began the process of transitioning, telling her family, and coming out, finally, as a woman.
Even Gracie’s mom had a change of heart: “She told me she had seen trans people on Oprah and remembered what she said to me about dressing up as a woman. She said, ‘I felt so bad and guilty because you could have been living your life as who you wanted to be this whole time.’ But this time, I felt ready to go forward.” The last obstacle she faced was telling her daughter. “She didn’t react well, and so for two years, I held off on my decision. I went through the most depressing stage of my life. Eventually, I told her, ‘I love you, but I love me more and have to do this for me.”
“I have to say, after living life as a gay male, I thought being trans would be easier but it was much more difficult. I was happy I was finally free and choosing the path I wanted, but I didn’t realize the extreme amount of stigma and transphobia, the normal day-to-day harassment, the looks we get. [Transgender people] are just overlooked as human beings, and our unique stories and perspectives are disregarded.”
“My hope for the children is that parents are safe, nurturing, open, and welcoming. Give them the space to explore the depths of who they are, even if it isn’t completely what you have in mind for your kids. Don’t project your wishes and wants onto the child—it creates disharmony.”
“Me and my daughter, who is about to be 29, have come a long way. It’s been a rollercoaster. But now we better understand each other, and is getting to know her father in this new way. I think my daughter becoming a parent shifted that. Now she understands my perspective, that it wasn’t always easy for either of us. And the irony of it all is that my granddaughter is obsessed with me—a girly girl, just like me! I’m so proud of my daughter for the woman and parent she is, along with our generational healing journey and evolution of our family’s legacy.”