Growing up, sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR) weren’t topics I was ever taught about. I was well into my late teens—19 or maybe 20—before I even encountered the term SRHR. It was then that I realized the critical importance of accessible healthcare, especially for individuals like me who exist outside traditional norms. Today, as a nonbinary lesbian who embraces androgyny, I proudly advocate for the SRHR needs of sexual and gender minorities, drawing deeply from my own experiences and challenges within the healthcare system.
One of these experiences stands out as a moment of awakening. I was dealing with a persistent infection, which I suspected could be a sexually transmitted infection (STI). Feeling anxious yet determined, I decided to go to the doctor alone for the first time. I dressed in a way that felt comfortable to me, embracing a masculine look. However, as soon as I began explaining my symptoms, I was hit with invasive and assumptive questions. “Where is your boyfriend?” the doctor asked, with an air of certainty. I felt frozen, not sure how to respond, as I was still processing my own sexuality at that time. Following a heavy silence, she continued, “Why are you wearing your husband’s clothes?” I was filled with anxiety. I told her I was a footballer, explaining that my attire was practical for my “sport.” I knew it was a lie, but at that moment, I needed an escape from her judgment. Eventually, I was diagnosed with a UTI, not the STI I had suspected. That experience left a deep mark. I began to avoid hospitals as much as I could, relying on over-the-counter remedies whenever possible. I didn’t want to face that same sense of dismissal or judgment again. However, this fear also held me back from receiving necessary care.
My journey took a pivotal turn when I joined a movement focused on SRHR for queer individuals. Through this channel, I learned about my rights, the importance of accessible healthcare, and the power of my voice. Gradually, this movement became more than a source of education; it fueled my passion for advocacy. I saw how SRHR services often overlook people like myself and decided to dedicate myself to ensuring SRHR becomes accessible for everyone—especially women in all their diversity.
Today, I dream of a world where every individual, regardless of their identity or presentation, can walk into a healthcare facility and be treated with respect. I want to see SRHR services available and accessible to all because everyone deserves dignified and affirming healthcare. This vision drives my commitment to SRHR advocacy, and it’s a journey I’m honored to be a part of.
This story was written and produced as part of 'Advancing Reproductive Justice: Inclusive Narratives, Voices, and Agency for Just and Fair Society' project supported by KELIN through subgranting.