Optimism for the future has been a hallmark of our transition and a philosophy of being more generally speaking. With the kind of life I lived, the alternative would be pure torture. I’ve known more than a few people in that mold and wouldn’t wish that misery on my worst enemy. I’d wish enlightenment and evolution instead. It’s well worth the pain and pressure it takes.
Two years ago, Jessica Erin Miller stepped into these pages and onto the stage for the first time with very little hesitation or trepidation. We’d been out to our kiddo, family, friends and coworkers for several months at that point, so this real-world reveal was almost anticlimactic. Almost. Fully emerging from behind screens and phones brought a power and purpose we couldn’t have anticipated ahead of time.
Likewise, Jessica taking over as the leader of our Military Order of the Cootie, Minnesota Pup Tent 2 for the better part of a year went a long way toward rooting our identity in the real world and extending ourselves into spaces not typically queer. She represented the pup tent two years in a row at the Supreme Scratch and was respected for that service as much as any other Cootie. No distinction attached to being a girl with a boy’s body.
Now that we are back in the Sky Pilot’s chair as chaplain and another woman represents the Pup Tent, I have taken the lead role in our day-to-day life. Jessica spent over a year in the driver’s seat half the time in all our spaces. When our world came apart last August and we found out our “found fam” were everything but loyal, we decided to take a different path forward. I would become the “default” identity while Jessica took a break from the limelight. She was exhausted after 54 years of being mostly a background player I didn’t even know existed until she arrived.
It’s a privilege most trans women don’t enjoy. They can’t slip back into the comfy and secure CIS Straight White Male armor we’ve been wearing since birth, despite it chaffing in hidden places all that time. Oddly enough, even presenting as “male” most days now, we are still noticeably queer-coded and no longer automatically admitted to the club. Kind of refreshing, actually, because our existence goes so much deeper than pronouns and can’t be erased by simply changing the way we dress or decide how to meet the world on any given day.
The increased scrutiny and violence the trans community has faced since our national nightmare began on January 20, 2025, was largely responsible for Jessica’s strategic retreat from sharing the spotlight equally, but I am actually quite excited by the idea of her being laser-focused on finding our next partner rather than slaying dragons and taking on bigots. Her life should be softer and safer and full of light and love. I’m better suited to take on that madness with all 54-years of straight CIS white male privilege I inadvertently inherited at birth.
Jessica continues to take the stage in safe spaces while I handle the day job and other shared responsibilities. Makes it easier for our coworkers as well, though they were gentle and gracious beyond measure with zero advanced notice. I just attended the Cootie Supreme Scratch in Reno, Nevada, for the first time after Jessica was repping the pup tent for the previous two years. Happy to report there wasn’t a single difference in my reception versus hers. We are still just Cootie Miller to our comrades and are always welcomed as such.
