I felt fabulous. I was fabulous. The music was perfect, the mood was perfect. But suddenly and in the blink of an eye, all that vanished into thin air. Furious police officers barged in, and the music was replaced by their enraged voices screaming at us from the top of their lungs. For a moment there, I had forgotten I was in Syria and that just being there was illegal. All I can remember after that is being on the floor with men in official suits beating me up. Next, I’m in prison. 

Jack is a 32-year-old Iraqi trans man. A few months back he decided to leave Iraq and move to Lebanon to do his top surgery and spare himself and his family the social quarrels with the conservative tribal entourage, he wouldn’t find the tolerance and acceptance that would let him live comfortably with his body. He reminisces about his childhood, he remembers how he used to look different from his siblings, he always had facial hair despite the feminizing hormones prescribed by the doctor, whom he was forced to visit by his father, without considering Jack’s preference. While in Iraq, he was introduced to the queer community through social media, he maintained virtual friendships with people from Lebanon, Syria, Egypt, Morocco, Algeria and other places from the world, he couldn’t recognize members of the community where he lived due to social difficulties. He remembers one guy who was beaten to death by a bunch of fanatics who considered him “pervert” for having long hair. Jack says that the phenomenon of physical attacks on people with tattoos and long hair for being considered as “perverts” is quiet spread.  

I am the mother of a child with a physical motor disability and the wife of a man with a sensory disability. I am telling my story to highlight the injustice of this society.