“After all, I made it this far in life because I am fierce!” —Sasha

Sasha

Since I was five years old, I knew that I was born in the wrong body. I used to love to play with my sister’s dolls and dress femininely, but my parents forced me to behave and dress like a boy. My identity also became an issue outside of my home. In Guyana, where I’m from, LGBTQ people are often subjected to widespread discrimination and violence.

My entire life, I’ve had to live my true identity in secret to protect myself from persecution.

Staying in the closet became more complicated as I got older. As a young teenager, I started to find my identity and presented myself as more feminine. This resulted in me being bullied in school; random strangers would beat me, and I was convinced that I was bringing shame to my entire family.

My parents weren’t a safe place for me, and there was no one else in my community to turn to. The only place where I felt safe was with my cousin, but when I was just 13 years old, he broke that trust and sexually assaulted me.

When I told my family about the assault, they blamed me and started to beat me brutally. After that, I was kicked out of my home and was forced to live on the streets.

With just the clothes on my back, I slept under bus stops, rested under awnings, and did what I needed to have some food in my stomach and survive.

After many years of surviving on the street, when I was in my mid-twenties, I experienced a moment of brightness when I started working at “The Red House of Fashion.” The owner was a gay man who hired me, and many other LGBTQ people worked at this fashion house – I felt I could finally be safe around people from the same community. Unfortunately, the owner passed away after just two years, and the building quickly fell into disrepair.

I was heartbroken to lose such an empowering place of work, but like always, I gathered myself and continued on my journey to survival. This time, I had more hope than ever in search of a community where I could feel safe.

In 2009, I moved back in with my family, but I was only allowed to stay with them if I dressed and presented as masculine. I started to live a double life: at home, in the closet, and in the city where I could be Sasha “Fierce.” I began to host LGBTQ promotional events to earn money, and It gave me a chance to create a community. A few of my friends and I got together and created “Wildberry,” an underground LGBTQ bar that was inclusive to all genders and orientations.

As I got more involved with LGBTQ promotional events and nightlife, my visibility led me to situations where I was targeted for my identity. In 2019, I was nearly attacked by multiple men with machetes. I was so scared of losing my life that night, but thankfully, my friends protected me and helped me escape. I knew then that it was time for me to flee Guyana.

In 2020, my mother and sister filed for a temporary visit so that I could stay with them for six months in New York City. I dreaded the day when I would have to return to Guyana.

Near the end of my six-month stay, a close friend who is also an asylum-seeker recommended that I call Immigration Equality. When I called them the next day, I was met with such warmth and kindness from the very beginning. They provided me with free attorneys who have been my guardian angels for the entire asylum process. They listened to my story, comforted me, and helped me make a strong asylum case.

While waiting for my asylum case, I was still learning to live in a new country. Things were difficult at first. I was new to the culture, didn’t know my way around, had no money, and was experiencing unstable housing. During this vulnerable time, I fell into a relationship with an incredibly abusive person for nearly two years. Escaping the cycle of abuse was a long and challenging process, and it is one that I am still healing from.

When I finally received asylum, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I would never have to go back to a country that hated me so much for who I was.

Even though coming to the United States still had its challenges, I am learning to love and care for myself. I work full-time as a home health aide and provide domestic support to my sister and her child. Since being in the US, I’ve also been able to safely transition and pursue gender affirming care. I’m in control of my own life now and my destiny.

Little by little, my days have started to look brighter. I am excited to see my new opportunities with my recent asylum win. I hope to start saving for a beauty salon business soon, and I know that when I put my mind to something, I am determined to get it done.

After all, I made it this far in life because I am fierce!