When Kaya Wilson came out to his parents as transgender, a year after a near-death surfing accident and just weeks before his father's death, he was met with a startling family history of concealed queerness and shame.
This is a trans story.
As Beautiful As Any Other weaves this legacy together with intimate examinations of the forces that have shaped Wilson's life, and his body: vulnerability and power, grief and trauma, science and narrative.
This is also my story.
In this powerful and lyrical memoir, Wilson makes a case for the strength we find when we confront the complexities of our identity with compassion. As Beautiful As Any Other is a trailblazing debut of remarkable beauty, insight and candour.
I am usually not a big reader of memoirs and autobiographies, but this one sounded so interesting when I saw it available for review request that I decided to give it a try. In then end, I found As Beautiful As Any Other to be a compelling read that explored a number of themes from transitioning to grief, all through Wilson's personal experiences. He moved between countries a lot as a child, and I found those snippets of information, regarding his memories from different places, especially interesting, along with his contemplation about the changes in the way people communicated with and treated him pre- and post-transition. If you wish to learn more about the problems faced by the trans community from the lips of one of its members, this book is one I am sure you will find of interest. LGBT content aside, it is also simply an engaging tale of someone overcoming difficulties and trauma, which is inspiring in and of itself. It was a four-star read for me.
I received this book as a free ARC from the Publisher in exchange for an honest review.
This book is beautiful from the inside and out! This well written memoir covers Kaya’s gender transition, life, love, trauma, loss and everything in between.
Kaya came out to his parents after a near death experience that almost left him paralysed, which was also a few weeks prior to his father death. Through this journey he learns so much about his family and the shame associated with being different. Kaya settles down in Australia and now calls it home.
This empowering memoir gives you a slice of life through a transgender lens, the struggles, beauty, pain and reward that goes into the journey of finding happiness and being comfortable in your own skin. My biggest take out from this was the need to reiterate to anyone that is unsure about gender identity that you are not alone and you are loved.
Support is available if you have questions or need guidance through any of these safe places; @lgbtiqhealthau @intersexaus @transactionwarrang @headspace_aus @lifelineaustralia .
@kaya.wilson I applaud you for being so brave and sharing your story with the world. I devoured this book in a single sitting. I’m not one to rate a memoir but this deserves a 5 star. Thank you @macmillanaus for sending me this amazing memoir.
There’s plenty of trauma in Kaya Wilson’s story: a nearly fatal surfing accident, a father’s death, a body needing to be reclaimed, including from the sometimes destructive gaze of others. As a trans memoir, it opened up this cisgendered reader’s eyes to the complexities of identity. As a memoir of trauma, it provided a framework to think about the body as a map onto which is outlined not just our personal experience but the gaze of others too, not just the markers of the pain we have stored there but the pathways to surprising reserves of strength.
The sharing of trauma is a gift to those who are suffering in silence or in secret, alone in their pain or healing. It’s a gift to communities whose collective trauma from enduring stigma, once shared, can bring people together and galvanise them into action. It’s a gift to society at large, able to learn from its mistakes once their devastating effects have been reflected back to us.
It’s also bloody hard, and can only be undertaken after having covered significant ground into that introspective journey of processing, confronting, articulating and healing.
Kaya Wilson is a brave writer whose youth betrays not just a wealth of experience but a remarkable maturity in understanding trauma – his own as well as the shared trauma of the communities he belongs to. The generosity with which he shares what he’s learned along the way is something I’m thankful for. Those perspectives are not commonly held, nor commonly shared, but their ability to enrich the way we think about identity and culture are very valuable.
As Kaya transitions, for example, he has to recalibrate his position in the world as a transgender person, and negotiate the recalibrations of those around him, including his mother’s. He also needs to define his position in society as a man, understanding his place through a new lens. What he learns from this is unique to someone who’s experienced the gaze of others through the perception of both genders. It’s fascinating and eye-opening.
Having grown up as a third-culture kid in a variety of different countries and cultures, Kaya has already had to inspect his exceptionalism. He's practised in observing the world around him, in questioning the self, in centering other perspectives. This mix of introspection and worldliness equips him to unpack his queerness with analytical clarity and compassion. We're just lucky he chose to write a book about it.
As Beautiful As Any Other eschews sentimentality and resists the self-help narratives of inspiration and empowerment. It withholds the directions, instructions and advice that make so many books about trauma insufferable. Instead, it provides a rich and thoughtful take on lived experience through a variety of lenses – confessional, intersectional, philosophical, scientific, political, auto-ethnographic – inviting the reader to think their own way to a connection, and meet the author halfway. The insights feel earned rather than dispensed or stolen.
There are digressions into wider topics – feminism, gay rights, sexual violence, climate change – but they all serve to weave the wider story of how personal and social traumas are tightly connected. The chapters are organized around themes – home, education, inheritance, etc. – rather than chronology. This creates repetition as various life events are revisited in different chapters, but rather than grate, the effect is akin to having successive conversations with a friend over time, each revealing new facets of a life known only in segments.
The sharing that happens as part of this intimate conversation with the writer is not a zero-sum game. Kaya’s father taught him to “read our way forward, to use stories to connect with the inner world of others”. The author applies this lesson for our benefit, telling a story we can all connect with and learn from so as to make our own wise way into the world.
I accidentally borrowed this as an audiobook from my local library, mistaking the vivid cover artwork as another book I’ve had my eye on, and I’m so very glad I did.
Kaya’s story is one tenderly told, and you can hear the careful, thoughtful nature of the arrangements of words that take you on this experience of another person’s body.
There is so much here. Gender, transition, trauma, serious accident, family, grief, honesty, fear, climate crisis, travel, language, education and elitism, athleticism, the limits of a physical body and an emotional being, and such warmly abundant love.
I have a pang now, writing this because I finished the book during a walk this morning, and I miss Kaya’s presence. A relevant read. One that gave me cause to remind myself to keep breathing whilst embroiled in all its emotion.
I recommend the audiobook for the full experience.
This engaging and raw account of Kaya Wilson's personal experience of transitioning and then overcoming his traumas was a compelling read. Wilson is able to make this entire memoir impactful, not only when he recounts his near-death experience, transition or relationship with his family. But also with topics very close to his heart such as climate change and marine science. I especially found his recount of the way he was perceived by and interacted with society pre and post his transition striking. Eloquently written, this standout portrait is a must read for all.
This book has some of the most beautiful prose I have ever read and is so absorbing. It has a lot of themes that I identify with: being a Third Culture Kid, experiencing a father dying of cancer on the other side of the world to you, experiencing the failings of your body and existing in the world as a woman; and some I did not: being a trans man, and existing in the world as a man. I learned so much from the writing about the themes I did not identify with and found the writing about the themes that I did identify with so validating and gorgeously described. I hope this book cleans up the awards circuit as Kaya so deserves it.
This memoir takes you all over the world, and the small parts which overlapped with my own travels and family history made this feel both near and far. Kaya is so deliberate with his words and craft, and hearing it narrated by him drew me in and kept me there. The book touches a lot without trying to be everything. I particularly loved hearing about the ocean from his perspective of an oceanographer and professional surfer, and the chapter Rage is an excellent piece which could hold its own as an essay.
This is a beautifully written, raw and honest memoir of being transgender, of being a male with female body parts and how this influences the behaviour of people around you, whether total strangers or those who should love you the most. In my attempt to learn more about transgender, I really appreciated Kaya's honesty in discussing both physical and emotional issues he faced. Just the everyday things in life that I would take for granted become more difficult as you begin to transition - such as anywhere that you must show a form of ID, passport, etc. that says female and having people eyeing you up and done; the at best, confused, and at worst, openly hostile looks and words people throw at you; meeting family members you haven't seen for a while who look straight past you as they do not recognise you; parents that still call you 'she' or 'their daughter'; not feeling safe in public as you never know who may react badly to your appearance. But then I totally shared his jubilation after top surgery and being able to wear a tight T-shirt or remove his shirt at the beach. And when his father referred to him as 'his son.' Of how he finally learned to live rather than just survive.
"It meant I had to step outside of the instincts I had cultivated and learnt to trust in the days when I needed a certain kind of survival. To stay when you have learnt to run, to speak when you have learnt to be silent."
I am so grateful to the author for sharing his experiences.
This may not be the book for some as it is a more lyrical writing style, with the author meandering from topic to topic, not all relating to the trans experience. It is also not chronological so if you are after a chronological memoir of a transgender person and their experiences, this may not be for you. But it is beautifully written - the sections on his father's death and grief are so poignant and heartbreaking.
I loved this book. I loved the lyrical writing style and intimacy of the author's voice. I loved the non-linear telling of this young person's life and that of his family. It is beautifully authentic and superbly surpasses other (fictional) stories of trans-people currently viewed as excellent and best-sellers. I feel it is perhaps the best autobiography I have read for decades, so nuanced, so intelligent, so emotional...not a book to read in a quick sitting. If, like me, you are any one of a conservative, white, heterosexual, older, privileged person this wonderful book by Kaya Wilson will be with you for a long time - and will possibly alter your sensitivity towards people generally and specifically, as it did me.
Cisgendered people and Australian publishing industry keep scrolling!
Ok trans people now we're alone.... This is one of the types of trans memoirs I wish publishers and editors weren't so obsessed with. Everyone early in transition thinks they should write a memoir and ok fine some of you can go ahead but more often than not these writers give SO much access to their life and body and what do they get? These hoards of misty-eyed cis reader praises of their "learnings" or whatever. It's so stunting of trans literature and discourse....
Kaya's story broadly speaking is by no means simple or uncomplicated but I don't think as a trans story it manages to be allowed the same level of depth. Not just the transness but also many other parts felt kind of underdeveloped and I truly wish he had taken more time to sit with these things and let them cook just a tiny bit longer.
Not quite what I was expecting in that it feels more like a collection of thematically linked essays rather than a memoir per se. Some of it I really enjoyed, but other parts I felt needed more development.
Trans narratives are important and the more of them there are, the better. I'm glad Wilson's book exists and it will be a contribution to trans literature.
Wilson states that he started writing from his first meetings with doctors about transitioning. But I feel a lot of this book, while zigzagging through an interesting life, is still a little unformed and feels like it needs another draft.
I also think the connections between trauma and the body (in either affirming or denying it) are too hastily made before moving forward somewhere else.
I am pretty adamant about the fact that no one has the right to dictate someone else’s reading preferences or habits: nobody ever can tell you what you can or cannot read. However, I firmly believe that certain books should be compulsory reads or might even need to be included in schools curriculums to contribute to building a more inclusive and kind society. Kaya’s memoir is one of them.
Listening to the audiobook was an experience that I highly recommend, as it felt almost like a conversation. On several occasions, I wished I was sitting with Kaya over a coffee, chatting about his life and his lived experience, and learning what transitioning feels like from the right voice, the right perspective. Of course, I’m not even remotely trying to dismiss other trans stories told by non-trans people with this statement. Still, it’s imperative to understand that if we ever truly want to learn and empathise with others, we always, and I repeat, ALWAYS, need to read and listen to own-voices first.
I profoundly congratulate and thank Kaya for his courage because it’s not easy to tell any personal story, let alone one so intimate, and let it out for the world to see. I am also grateful to the publisher and all the people in the publishing industry that gave Kaya the space and the means to publish his trans story.
My only complaint about this memoir is that I struggled with the fractured way the narrative is constructed. There is a warning right at the beginning about how the narrative is not chronological, and, in all honestly, I didn’t make much of it when I read it. However, it wasn’t easy to understand when certain things had happened, which threw me off balance while reading. Although this might not be a problem for other readers, the lack of chronological structure was disadvantageous for me.
Overall, As Beautiful As Any Other is an illuminating trans memoir, as moving as infuriating. To be allowed to try to understand what the world looks like for a trans person is a privilege I hope many readers get to experience. So please, do yourself a favour and read it.
I wanted to like this book. Kaya Wilson is another foot-soldier fighting to add a positive trans voice to the world. But I felt preached at.
Don’t talk to me about the walking home alone and fearing the possibility that some man might rape me. Wilson is now part of the privileged gender and likes to hammer home how much they ‘pass’. How women walking home at night shouldn’t be scared of him because, I have a vagina. As a woman I am afraid of any man walking behind me in the dark. I don’t care if you've got a vagina or whatever. You terrify me.
This book reminded me of the Margaret Atwood quote, Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.
This book is not written well either. It jumps around from topic to topic without any logical segue. It’s repetitive and didn’t tell much of a story.
I also didn’t think it was a story many trans people might relate to. Wilson travels and lives a pretty cruisy life.
Just because you can write a book doesn’t mean you should.
I adored this book. It was raw and vulnerable. An open look into one person’s incredible journey through tragedy, heartache, trauma, self discovery, love and self love. A truly touching story and highly recommended read.
A book that is very well worth reading to get to understand the variation in humanness with regards how we are in our bodies. Kaya was a girl growing up in many different countries because her parents were International School teachers. Through the this she had encouragement to excel. She was sporty and academic. Described as a tomboy in the pre school years and primary years (how I was described, but all I was was an active life enjoying girl-my style of life involved all the outside sports and sharing kicking footballs with the boys up the road. I was just a child enjoying action). Kaya had a surfing accident which was described in a chapter that seem to be written in a style of flow of consciousness, but that may have been my interpretation. I found it quite fascinating to read, the way that she (as he was then) moved from then limitations and accepted the gift of continuing movement after the injury had stabilised. Another chapter on Trauma involved the life affirming change of gender first with hormone therapy and secondly with surgery to remove female breast shape. Including the coming out to the parents, and the meeting of others who knew him previously as a girl/woman. There are some really good passages to help give an insight into the challenges in no feeling comfortable in your own skin. Also there is insight into the difference in acceptance as a woman walking in the dark at night past as group of men and a man walking past at night. How fantastic that Kaya actually speaks to men to try to make them understand the difficulties that women face. We should all be safe at night. This is definitely a book that has a lot to offer you when you read it, in understanding the complexity of gender. Often people say sex is binary but genetically that is not so. We have five combinations of the pair of sex chromosomes that create live born babies that grow to adult! Worth a read.
I’m not sure how to do this book justice, but I can say that the blurb definitely doesn’t. Yes, this is a trans story. I learned more about the trans experience from this book than from any other resource I’ve encountered. Particularly, the chapter ‘Rage’ provided thoughts on the Me Too movement from the perspective of a person who has experienced living as each gender, predator and prey. On this, Wilson writes: “In transition, there is a grief at losing the common-enemy intimacy and a pain at being seen as one of them.” And then, outlining the very specific position trans people find themselves in: “I can present at a conference and have men listen to me, men who never did before, and still be spoken of by those closest to me as if I have died. I can write and speak on stages and dive into nuance and people still just want to know if I have a dick. Transgender people are not prophets but we are among the voices in our society that can speak clearly to gender.” This was something I knew intellectually, but was able to feel and appreciate all the more when it came from Wilson. Honestly, though, Wilson’s beautiful prose and fascinating life stories propel this memoir more so than the focus on his gender and transition. His experiences of boarding school in London, of being a child growing up as an expat in Tanzania and Indonesia (among other places), are really interesting to read. My only frustration is that this story has moments that are annoyingly vague. I understand the reason for obfuscation on the topic of trauma and some elements of the family unit, but at times it felt needless, and a little repetitive.
3.5 stars. Moments of beautiful and poignant prose and reflection on trauma, family, the body inhabiting gender, identity, and truth. There was definitely an influence of Rebecca Solnit in the occasional blend of literary fiction/essay with personal narrative. The book jumps from place and time quite fluidly, and while I think it would have benefited from clearer thematic or chronological flow, it wasn't too disjointed and still flowed okay. Enjoyed reading the accounts of such a varied childhood across Tanzania and Aruba. A privileged life living off the legacy and mobility of British colonial power (could have done with some more reflection on this), this is a trans journey, but a rich white trans journey. The author seems to have averaged one flight across the world every month of their life, refers to their "expat" upbringing in private schools, almost attended Oxbridge, and details a family house full of colonial trophies. The book redeems itself by the writing's focus on emotional resonance and reflection. I don't regret reading it, it's decently written. I feel like it had the potential to be greater than what it is. It's a good companion book to Erin Riley's A Real Piece of Work. I think Kaya Wilson could have learned from Riley a bit about structure and narrative arc, and Erin Riley could have taken cues from Wilson around poetic prose and evoking place and time. Both have a similar heart and emotion, but I feel Riley's is more parochial, with the applied university politics of a Melbourne lower middle class progressive left, while Wilson's is more the aspirational politics of centre left, inherited wealthy, whose liberalism comes from a pseudo-cosmopolitan classical education.
I mostly listened to the audio book of Kaya Wilson’s memoir AS BEAUTIFUL AS ANY OTHER which perhaps contributed to my feelings of disorientation. I’m no fan of chronological memoir but could have done with a stronger anchoring of time and place at various points. Wilson’s lyrical writing style also bordered on obliqueness and there were times it was unclear to me what he was trying to say. All of that said, as a straight cis person I am always grateful for insights into trans experience from trans people. Wilson’s account of transition was where the writing style worked best. Starting the book with the surfing accident in which he broke his neck and where the medical profession treated his body as female made for an incredibly powerful introduction. The chapter on climate change didn’t seem cohesive with the rest of the book but it was sobering and left me sobbing in the park. I crave cohesion but perhaps need to embrace fractured narratives.
Some poorly constructed sentences, particularly early on, really bogged this down. At times it felt like someone hadn’t edited it, for there was sentences without verbs, rapid-fire metaphors for ideas not really otherwise explained and excessive comma usage in ways that made sentences harder to read. I also found the way living & holidaying in all these places worldwide were brought up felt kind of like it was trying to impress a sense of ? maybe importance or having lots of money, instead of just a part of the story. I’m not saying that was the intent, because I don’t think so, but it’s how it came across to me. The non-linear aspect of it didn’t help because it meant everywhere was brought up multiple times, often with the same little fun fact. Still, I think it’s well worth the read. It is good to hear people’s stories in their own words and Kaya Wilson speaks with a frankness about his experiences that I really appreciated.
I have so many feelings about this book. I cried a lot, I felt a lot, and I saw much that reflected my own experience of trauma as a bodily experience (very different experiences, as a cis straight woman), just expressed way better than I ever had. As a memoir of transition, it's fascinating and moving to follow not only the changes in the way that Kaya experienced his body and how others reacted, but the transition from female to male spaces, and how much it shows about female spaces. As a memoir of trauma, and how it lives in you, and living with it, it's heartbreaking yet hopeful. A truly remarkable person, who has lived their life remarkably, and has written something beautiful about a sometimes ugly life.
I heard an interview with Kaya Wilson and wanted to learn more about his life. I don’t know what to make of his book, and I didn’t the whole time I was reading it. Transgender, near death accident, loss of father, climate change, world travels… a lot of big topics. It was especially interesting to me to read his experience of the difference between being perceived as, and experiencing life as, a woman and then a man. If I had seen the ‘about the author’ section first it would have been easier to read and make sense of the writing: “his non-fiction writing blends essay and memoir to explore universal themes of identity, gender and origin”. It’s not a story with a clear chronology. It’s more literary than conversational. And it’s given me lots to think about but no answers.
Warmth, tenderness and strength and a lyrical sensitivity to parents place and partner - this exploration of a life undergoing metamorphosis one of the most beautiful books of this year. I loved that it was not chronological - that it slipped almost effortlessly through airports from one side of the world to another - from one age to another - back and forth - like one’s own day - thoughts ranging through one’s life and connections and reflections. Overall - stunning!
Oh dear me no. DNF. Got to about page 66 and thought enough is enough. I flipped through the rest very quickly. I hate it when people write memoirs and are completely cryptic and you have no idea what’s going on. Why bother to even write a memoir then? I think the writer was trying to be clever and literary but it’s just annoying. They do say at the start that it’s not chronological but golly gosh why not make it chronological? It doesn’t make much sense to the average punter otherwise!
I caught the end of an interview with Kaya Wilson on Radio National, borrowed the book from the library, then went out and bought it. Beautifully written, honest, engaging, educational, his book is not only about his transition and how it affects him and his relationships, but also touches on other experiences and passions with much personal insight. Because real life isn’t linear and just about one thing. Thank you for writing and sharing this Kaya, it has made a difference.
Kaya Wilson has an interesting story to tell, but this book could've (and should've) been so much better! Although it's marketed as "a memoir of my body", it disappoints by hardly touching on some key issues e.g. sex and sensuality post-transition. The author also spends a lot of time giving his views on a range of general political/philosophical topics on which he has little to say that's original, different or anything other than predictable. Further, he tries too hard on (many) occasions to write poetically, when what's called for is clarity and directness.
I found the naritive a bit disjointed, but overall a startling review on little traumas that add up, little joys that knit together, and the complications of decoding them all.