The Risk It Takes to Bloom: On Life and Liberation

by Raquel Willis

A passionate, powerful memoir by a trailblazing Black transgender activist, tracing her life of transformation and her work towards collective liberation.

In 2017, Raquel Willis took to the National Women’s March podium just after the presidential election of Donald Trump, primed to tell her story as a young Black transgender woman from the South. Despite having her speaking time cut short, the appearance only deepened her commitment to speaking up for communities on the margins.

Born in Augusta, Georgia, to Black Catholic parents, Raquel spent years feeling isolated, even within a loving, close-knit family. There was little access to understanding what it meant to be queer and transgender. It wasn’t until she went to the University of Georgia that she found the LGBTQ+ community, fell in love, and explored her gender for the first time. But the unexpected death of her father forced her to examine her relationship with herself and those she loved. These years of grief, misunderstanding, and hard-won epiphanies seeped into the soil of her life, serving as fertilizer for growth and allowing her to bloom within.

Upon graduation, Raquel entered a career in journalism against the backdrop of the burgeoning Movement for Black Lives, intersectional feminism going mainstream, and unprecedented visibility of the trans community. After hiding her identity as a newspaper reporter, her increasing awareness of the epidemic of violence plaguing trans women of color and the heightened suicide of trans teens inspired her to come out publicly. Within just a few short years of community organizing in Atlanta, Oakland, and New York, Raquel emerged as one of the most formidable Black trans activists in history.

In The Risk It Takes to Bloom, Raquel Willis recounts with passion and candor her experiences straddling the Obama and Trump eras, the possibility of transformation after tragedy, and how complex moments can push us all to take necessary risks and bloom toward collective liberation.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, LGBT, Queer, Transgender, Audiobook, Feminism

363 pages, Hardcover

First published November 14, 2023

Reviews

[Marina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredible writing that walks you through all the major events of Raquel Willis' incredible life so far: the hurdles she faces, her coming to terms with her intersectional identities, the people who inspire her, and the development of her rad philosophies and activist mission. She seems really honest and self-aware, which doesn't always paint herself in the perfect light, but it's really relatable and the kind of book I wish I had in my late teens/early twenties. Would recommend this to everyone, especially trans folks and providers who might work with trans folks. This is a really unique memoir and I'm really glad it exists.

[Katie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Raquel’s memoir is beautifully written with imagery and phrases that stay with you long after reading them. This book shines a much needed light on the faithful activism of the black transgender community.

[Dona's Books · Rating 4 out of 5]

Full review on my blog!

🎉Ĥⓐ𝕡𝕡Ｙ ק𝐮ｂ ⓦ𝐄𝐄𝓀!🥳
ℙ𝕦𝕓 𝕎𝕖𝕖𝕜 𝔹𝕠𝕠𝕜 ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨!
ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪsᴋ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴍ
by 𝘙𝘢𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴 @raquel_willis
St. Martin's Press @stmartinspress

Thank you to the author, publishers, and book tour organizers for an advance digital copy of ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪsᴋ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴍ . All opinions are mine.



𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕞𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨:
Read my review on my blog💜

𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 Three (or more) things I loved:
...

3. Raquel Willis Offers such grace and love to to the people who hurt and reject her. She is completely grateful for every drop of grace she receives in return at all stages of her journey. It is wonderful to read about such a courageous person!

4. The story of Raquel, having transitioned fully, seeing her grandmother, who had dementia, and whom she hadn't seen in a long time, is so heartwarming and fulfilling: [𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢] 𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘔𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦... 𝘢𝘯𝘥 [𝘴𝘩𝘦] 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦” 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵. Loc1731
...

Rating: 🪷🪷🪷🪷 slowly blooming flowers
Recommend? Yes!
Finished: Nov 14 23
Format: Digital arc, Kindle, NetGalley
Read this book if you like:
🗣 memoirs
🪞 stories about identity
👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 family stories, family drama
👩🏿‍🤝‍👨🏾 women's coming of age
🌈 queer literature

Full review on my blog!

[Roslyn Bell · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first became aware of Raquel Willis during her speech which was cut short at the Women's March. After that I started following her journey on social media. This memoir is very thought provoking and timely due to the rash of discrimination, misinformation and crimes towards the transgender community. I highly recommend this book. #NETGALLEY #THERISKITTAKESTOBLOOM

[Mel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Honestly one of the best memoirs I have ever read, and incredibly timely. Highly recommend both for trans and cis readers to learn more about activism and allyship in our current time.

[Angela Murcia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Raquel Willis does a beautiful job weaving her journey into becoming her full self and enlightening the reader with trans stories and history that is often overlooked.

[Mari Stusser · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautiful book, beautiful story- I saw Raquel speak at Cal Poly during a teach in last year!! Her event kept getting rescheduled but she ended up being able to come and I was inspired by her and moved to read her memoir.

From page 345, Raquel leading a chant at a protest

“I believe in my power, I believe in our power, I believe in Black trans power” and my soul expanded beyond the borders of my body… it was a sacred moment, not unlike being touched by a song at church or realizing you’ve fallen in love or realizing your true identity.”

Definitely teared up at parts. Black trans lives matter 🌷

[Iris Gross]

I wish I enjoyed this more! I think Raquel is amazing person and good writer but this memoir itself did not hit all the marks for me. However, is it clear that this book functions as a political statement in itself and she is paying credit to the people and organizations that helped her through her life. One of my biggest critiques is that if you are not versed in women and gender studies jargon, this book could be incredibly difficult to understand. All in all, I did enjoy this book but I skimmed through the whole second half….

[Christina Quinn · Rating 5 out of 5]

I didn’t know anything about Raquel before reading this book but so enjoyed learning her story and expanding my understanding of the experiences of Black trans women through her thoughtful, entertaining prose. It’s always a pleasure to read an autobiography by someone who is an actual journalist and professional writer because I think their ability to distill a narrative while also portraying their authentic voice is unparalleled. Am a big believer that one of the best ways to be a better ally starts by listening to the experiences of those who others have marginalized - Raquel’s courage and ability to be candid, bold, and open about her journey embracing her identity and authentic self was both inspiring and educational. As a society, we need to do better to support and protect members of the trans community.

[Darcy Cook · Rating 5 out of 5]

Powerful narrative of the triumphs and struggles of a trans activist.

[Brenda Marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Whether you're Black and Trans or not, you have a duty to elevate Black Trans power!" - Raquel Willis

This book was such a beautiful tribute to the Black Trans experience, and I feel so privileged to have been immersed in the stories within. It's so much more than the memoir of one individual. Willis has paid homage to so many people that are such an important and integral part of the Black Trans movement, that sometimes I felt like I couldn't even take it all in. I am so thankful that I chose to listen to the audiobook of this rather than read the words on the page, because I don't think there's any way my interpretation could have been even remotely as powerful as listening to her tell the stories in her own voice. I cried so many times throughout: tears of sadness, tears of joy, tears of frustration, tears of anger, tears of empathy. It also has to be said that the juxtaposition of listening to her experience of the first Trump administration for marginalized folx on the eve of the second, and not knowing what the future holds for any of us is especially emotional. #BlackTransLivesMatter Brava, Raquel Willis. Brava.

[Marla Thrall · Rating 4 out of 5]

✨ The Risk It Takes to Bloom ✨⁣
⁣⁣
⁣Genre- Memoir. ⁣
⁣⁣
⁣Length- 384 pages. ⁣
⁣⁣
⁣My Thoughts- The Risk It Takes to Bloom is the memoir of Raquel Willis- a Black transgender activist. Raquel tells her personal story of growing up in the south with Catholic parents. In college, she finally felt free to explore her gender and identity. After college, Raquel goes into journalism and eventually becomes a widely known activist. ⁣
⁣⁣
⁣While I did find Raquel’s story very inspiring, it felt very long winded and repetitive. She references a ton of people from different movements. Not only was it impossible to keep track of them all, it also felt a bit like she was just name dropping. I think editing about 100 pages out of this memoir would have made for a more powerful read! ⁣
⁣⁣
⁣I still think this was an important and worthy read! Four stars! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⁣
⁣

[Java · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first was introduced to Raquel Willis last year (2022) through Chase Strangio a lawyer for UCLA and i instantly was enthralled by her tenacity.Thrilled about discovering she was releasing her first book,I had to grab it.

It has been confirmed that Raquel herself didn’t want trauma,whiteness or heteronormativity at the center of the biography and I must say that I am so grateful for that.A tamed tenderness exudes from Willis as she writes about close family and friends,you can tell community is the source of foundation especially in her letter to her deceased father.Reading this has brought on a euphoria that could not be configured in any other facet than queerness.Willis also reminds us that the trans & nonbinary journey is not monolithic in not only our sexualities and how we show up but in our dreams/aspirations.

4//5 stars

[Jade · Rating 3 out of 5]

Willis writes love/dream? letters to Black Trans folks we have lost due to systemic violence. I liked this format, Willis was able to explain the dreams that she had for her Trans siblings. " To the women who have had boyhoods" passage was pretty wild and I had to read it twice to make sure that I understood it properly. The memoir format was repetitive for me. Willis does acknowledge how wild it is to uphold Black Trans women as martyrs while doing no work to address the anti-Blackness that leads to our deaths. This is an example of objectification and objectification is bad. Willis offers many opportunities for gentle and thoughtful reflection. The Lucille Clifton poem at the end was an excellent touch.

[Teddy · Rating 4 out of 5]

essential, phenomenal

“and i want you all also to remember that whether you are black or trans or not, you have a duty and a responsibility to elevate black trans power.”

[Brenda Rezk · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a memoir written by Black, transgendered activist and journalist Rachel Willis. I stumbled across this book while doing an old-fashioned browsing of the new books section of the local library. I sat down and started reading it a bit and liked it, so I checked it out.

Ms. Willis majored in journalism with a minor in women's studies, if I remember correctly. So she is an excellent writer. It also means that she is well-versed in subtle or insidious forms of patriarchal thinking in our society. She is also well-versed in issues of intersectionality between issues involving gender, race, sexual orientation, etc. She has worked in journalism and in activist organizations. In college, in her journey towards becoming more comfortable in who she was, she also worked in drag shows.

I found this book insightful for how Ms. Willis describes her personal path to self-realization. Ms. Willis began life in Georgia as a boy who knew he was different. The boy had a difficult time stepping outside of the boundaries of expectations of his Southern, African-American father, in particular. Things became somewhat easier after his father died. Luckily, his mother accepted the young man for who he was then and continued to support her child when Raquel came out as transgendered, through her transition, and beyond. Raquel is very open about other family dynamics and discusses Southern African-American gender expectations that many readers may not be familiar with and how they might impact both cis- and trans-gendered people.

I had not considered that a transgendered person might find drag a way to experiment with how they might feel dressing as and carrying themselves as the gender they see themselves as. I was saddened when Ms. Willis felt she could no longer perform in drag as she transitioned to living as a woman. It was something she loved. But a woman can't do drag as a woman.

I could continue talking about this book, but I'll leave Ms. Willis to tell her own story. I recommend it.

[Mary Rose Fissinger · Rating 3 out of 5]

Willis does a great job communicating the frustration of a black trans woman in feeling sidelined in big tent movements, whether it’s LGBTQ+ movements, Black movements, or feminist movements, as those groups tend toward elevating their most palatable examples in order to gain broad support. But also how complicated it is and how she has felt empowered as well as overlooked by those groups, and how she has been in positions herself where she had to swallow a more status quo approach to efforts she felt deeply passionate about. She tells her story with a lot of humility and humanity and obvious journalistic training. Her relief when she encounters spaces where she feels seen and heard is the best argument for why more of these spaces should exist, and why larger movements have a responsibility to acknowledge and uplift their marginalized members rather than brush them under the rug. Plus her journey of learning to love herself is broadly relatable / inspirational.

I think I sought a more detailed explanation of what in her life made her identify as a woman, beyond feeling most herself in drag, and I would have been interested in a little more explanation of her personal journey after her transition: the elements of femininity that did or did not resonate, her thoughts on expressing that femininity, and the extent to which she grappled with choices around these things that could be seen to reinforce the gender binary, which she rejects. But she did touch on these topics, especially the last one, to a certain extent, and I learned a lot about what it looks like to grapple with an identity that doesn’t match your body.

Long quote to follow but I think it’s 1) a great example of Willis’s ability to place her very personal experience in the context of the long history of various and intersecting social movements and 2) just super interesting!

—

There's this assertion that real women are defined by having a particular body type (certain chromosomes, female reproductive organs), a set of bodily functions (the ability to menstruate or get pregnant), or a certain set of experiences (usually categorized under misogyny). If anyone considered this checklist for more than one second, they’d see the cracks in the theory. For many cis women, at least one of these qualifiers would present an impossible standard to meet: cis girls and women don't all have the same capacity for reproduction, and some may never experience menstruation or pregnancy. Nor do all cis girls and women experience the same degrees of misogyny. While it may be unlikely, women can express that they've never experienced discrimination based on gender or sex. (Conservative women often make this argument in an attempt to undercut progressive aims.) Plus, no one could tell me that the average cis person would refrain from acknowledging the assumed girlhood of the newborn assigned female with the smallest well of experiences in the world. To be clear, cis girls and women's gender identities are typically respected without knowing whether they have had particular bodily and life experiences, not to mention their chromosomal composition, which most people would only really know if they were tested.
Witnessing Adichie platform this line of transmisogynistic thinking hurt because I expected her to understand, as a fellow Black woman, how feminism has not always welcomed more marginalized narratives and voices. Many cis people think that trans folks, particularly trans women, are claiming that our experiences are exactly the same or insinuating that they must be to be valid. I don't believe that is true. But that also doesn't mean our embrace of womanhood diminishes their own.
Even further, while it may be true that many trans women experienced some form of privilege in being perceived as boys or men at varying points in our lives, it ignores the spectrum of experiences that people assigned male at birth have. My cishet brother experienced a greater degree of privilege than I did as someone often perceived as a feminine, queer person growing up— and even more so once I was open about my sexual orientation. Even further, there is a privilege that all cis people share in actually identifying with and being consistently affirmed in their gender from birth than those of us who have dealt with some kind of incongruence throughout our lives.
Either way, privilege and oppression are not binary concepts. They exist on a spectrum and must be treated with nuance. Black feminists like Audre Lorde, Barbara Smith, and Patricia Hill Collins have long illuminated this truth in their own ways. If only Adichie championed this existing legacy in Black feminism and feminisms of color, one that brought women on the margins together rather than drove them apart.
Many Black feminists have constantly broken down that discussions on male privilege among our cis counterparts are more complex for us than the broad stroke that white feminists have often painted. We know within communities of color that men of color, although still privileged, don't experience the degree of privilege that white cis men do. It is beautiful to notice and discuss the nuances of the average cis woman's experience and the average trans woman's experience. However, it gets dangerous when we place all these requirements for one group of women to be valid versus another.
This public discourse reminded me that even if I'd had bottom surgery, I would still not be fully considered a woman by many. In fact, people might consider my medical gender transition a desire to fulfill a patriarchal conception of womanhood.
But honestly, this idea ignores that everyone, on some level, is seeking a life in which they are comfortable with their identity on their terms. Cis people have long opted for surgeries (breast and buttock augmentations, labiaplasties, rhinoplasties) and procedures (hair transplants, hormone replacement therapies) that are gender affirming and haven't been considered menacing for it.
I firmly embraced that my vagina would not define my womanhood, for I was a woman long before I even had the prospect of accomplishing this part of the journey. This transition milestone, like all the others, would be for me, not to fit into a "real woman's" club, not men or partners, nor the cisheteropatriarchy. I just wanted to feel at home in my body. If anything, having surgery would open me up to focus on the rest of my life. Plus, my desires for myself shouldn't hinge on others' judgment.

[Sarah · Rating 2 out of 5]

Could not finish. Although she is very inspiring in her story, the writing was so poor it was really hard to get through and I wasn’t enjoying it at all. I could just watch a video about her and get the same details without suffering through the writing.

[Eder Price Leidgens · Rating 4 out of 5]

Trans rights are human rights

[Hannah Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am speechless! I wish I could come up with the words for how this book made me feel, it is just something you have to experience!

[Jean · Rating 4 out of 5]

I caught a glimpse a lovely, poised young Black woman on an MSNBC program one Saturday evening. It was the tail end of her segment, so I didn’t even get the gist of her remarks, but I did catch her name: Raquel Willis. I Googled her and was surprised to learn that she is a transgender woman. She had just published a memoir, The Risk It Takes to Bloom: On Life and Liberation, so I checked my library’s Libby availability and got on the list!

Raquel Willis was born and raised in Augusta, Georgia, into a devout Catholic family. As a boy, (s)he was teased and bullied for being effeminate, although (s)he did not tell her/his parents. Her father would have told her/him something like (s)he needed to act like a man. When (s)he got to high school, (s)he began exploring gay websites and chat lines. (S)e began to accept that (s)he was gay but did not come out to her/his family until later. (At this time, Raquel was identifying as male, hence the use of dual pronouns.)

While attending college at the University of Georgia, (s)he became more involved in the LGBTQ+ community and started doing drag shows. As her drag persona, Rebel Deveaux, Raquel became more in touch with the woman inside and eventually knew that she needed to come out as transgender.

She had come out to her mother as gay previously, and this had gone quite well. Her sister was okay; her brother, not so much. Her father was quite upset initially, but eventually, he accepted as best he could. Unfortunately, he passed away before Raquel transitioned, which seemed to be a relief. True to form, her mother was very supportive.

Although much of Raquel’s journey is a physical, emotional, and spiritual one, a big part of it is also a political one. She documents her professional and political life in great detail. The plethora of acronyms for the various organizations she mentions is almost overwhelming. It’s easy to understand her pain, her frustration, and her anger at the treatment of transgender people, particularly Black women, who are minimalized, abused, raped, and murdered. The rise of Trump and Trumpism only magnified the problem. But organizations that were created to help seemed to be minimally represented by those who like Raquel – Black trans women.

As a white, cis lesbian who was raised Catholic who came out in the early 1980s, I can identify somewhat with Raquel’s struggle. But I am not her. I have not lived what she has lived. She is a strong, articulate, beautiful woman with an important message. My heart grieves for those who live in places where legislation is going backwards, not forward in education – banning books, in legislation – passing laws banning equal participation for transgender youth, banning medical treatment, banning equal protections, banning legal protection.

Read her book, The Risk It Takes to Bloom: On Life and Liberation. Check her out on line. She’s an intelligent, articulate woman. A courageous woman.

4 stars

[Shirley Kingery · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Risk It Takes to Bloom is a beautifully written, compelling memoir that will leave the reader wiser and a step closer to overcoming the attacks and violence against black trans women. It is a timely book given the relentless attacks on this population by the right, and in particular the right wing media and figureheads.

Raquel Willis takes us on her life's journey, laying her soul bare in the process; which is a profound and brave thing to do. She shares with us her childhood, spent in a boy's body, but never embracing or feeling comfortable with that designation or the things that were required to those assigned that gender at birth. Thank goodness she was part of a very loving, close-knit family as well as a wonderful extended family group. Her mother has always been her North Star, guiding her no matter which branch of the path of life she took next. Her father was very loving, and Raquel and he were close, but their relationship was harder to navigate because he was set in his ways and ideas and he was determined that his son would do all the typical "boy" things. He would not tolerate his son showing feminine characteristics, in dress, toys or play. Later in Raquel's teenage years, when she came out to her father he erupted and took it very badly. They were able to repair their divide over time, but it was never a topic that was discussed between them. It was after his death that Raquel was motivated to become the woman she knew she was destined to be and forge ahead on transitioning.

Raquel begain her transition in college and also started performing in drag shows with a group she met on campus. After graduation she embarked on a series of interesting jobs in her field of journalism that put her in a position to be an advocate for protection of the much victimized group of black trans women, taking her from Georgia to California, and finally New York City. She became involved in activism for the cause of protecting the black trans women community. This high-risk group is in dire need of protections at every level and now the U.S. is unraveling protections and civil rights that had taken decades to achieve. Raquel has become prominent in the journalism industry and in activist circles, adorning billboards for her work at the magazine "Out" and receiving invitations to speak at national and international LGBTQ+ marches and events. Her mother is with her at key events and is a wonderful pillar of support. The U.S., and the world, need so many more Raquels, and they need all of us to promote education and humanity.

I am ashamed and appalled at my lack of education on the subject of gender, and at the lack of any level of attempt to educate children on this important subject (in fact Conservatives want to quelch education altogether just so that we cannot learn subjects like this). We must strive to learn, educate, expand our intellect and especially our humanity.

[Phoebe S. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'd probably consider this book most similar to Memoir of A Race Traitor in terms of books I've read. It's pretty dense for a memoir, and so many names are dropped that I wanted more of their stories and spent a lot of time on Wikipedia. However, I think Raquel Willis understands this, and in fact draws from multiple different influences in crafting her narrative, such as Janet Mock's Redefining Realness (and to be clear, I don't want to attribute Mab Segrest as an influence, mostly just noting commonality).

The epistolary chapters, particularly her letter to her father, certainly hit hard. While Willis talks about her work in those sections as much as her emotional bonds, it feels like those both form significant through-lines that powerfully tie her to her transcestors and her family.

I also appreciated the level of analysis Willis brought to her past and present. I felt a certain kinship in the repeated questioning of whether a certain action would really help me to achieve my aims. But ultimately, we all need to take that risk, and her detailing of the way she repeatedly stood up for the needs of Black trans and queer folks in a white supremacist cisheteropatriarchy that all too often normalizes violence against Black trans women and treats them as objects or tokens is both exhaustive and unflinchingly honest. She looks both at the shortcomings and moments of growths as well as her triumphs, and in the space between her victories and disappointments, we find a voice that speaks as urgently to our present struggles as it has spoken in the past.

Willis doesn't necessarily redefine the memoir genre, but the shrewd display of influences and playing with formats, unflinchingly bold voice, and meticulous detail in which she narrates her life and the events that have shaped her and all of us (some which have gone unnoticed) make her work a prime example of the form and a love letter to Black trans solidarity.

[Trinity · Rating 1 out of 5]

If you want to read a book about a trans person that goes through the least amount of discrimination and trauma I've ever seen in fiction or nonfiction and then ends up a snowflake, this is the book for you.
I thought it was okay until she gets into an argument she had with her transman boyfriend and a mutual trans man friend. Her bf was the first person to accept and see her as a woman and she ghosts him (presumably) forever over this. Tried to continue but she goes on to complain about mostly being around white cis women at her white southern college and stopped at that point. She asked her bf to apologize for basically not admitting that trans women have it worse than trans men and ghosted him again after he refused. Playing oppression olympics against a friend who was KICKED OUT of his house due to being trans and going through poverty in college when she only came out as trans after her (homophobic) father died (who still didn't kick her out when she came out as a gay teen boy) is WILD. For the record, I think they both were at fault for not seeing eachother's issues as different and face transphobia in different ways. I am a trans man and am dating a trans woman, we see trans issues differently and don't hold it against each other or are petty about it. We also only have one pillow between us at our personal home, guess that means we have pillow privilege. (She complained about only having "one personal pillow" at his house the night before ghosting him for a week.) I'm shook that this person speaks for the trans community while transmasc voices are silenced/not promoted the same way/looked down on. We desserve better than this snowflake who can't admit her own privilege as a college educated child of two middle class college educated parents who loved and accepted her.

[Ma'Belle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely wonderful from beginning to end. Listen to Raquel Willis and other Black trans women!

On a personal note, I couldn't help but start snapping my fingers in my work's breakroom while listening when she revealed that it was Julia Serano's Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity that was really the first time Raquel saw herself in a text and was able to internally come to out to herself, basically, which is exactly how that same book impacted me when I first read it, a handful of years before Raquel, but a handful of years later in life (which could have a significant impact on decisions and experiences with medical transitioning).

[Finnoula · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was so incredible. I first saw Raquel speak at Brooklyn Liberation in 2020 and I used her speech in a documentary I did for a class. It was in my school’s Film Festival! I loved all the stories of growing up in a Catholic household. Because I’m a trans femme who grew up in a Catholic household and it was so hard to deal with my queerness and my spirituality. Raquel is such an inspiration. I actually cringed when she mentioned that 2 white trans men invalidated her and told her that Transmisogyny is not a real thing and is just used to say trans men are toxic. And then to be scoffed at and told that she was light skinned and so she didn’t know what racism was is just plain gross. I’m glad she left him bc he was a dickhead

[Gina · Rating 4 out of 5]

The fact that I finished this book on the day that I am processing Donald Trump being re-elected may affect my feelings. Especially that one of the incidents in the book is Willis being cut off at the Women's March -- not even because what she was saying was incendiary, but just because she wasn't valued enough to make sure she was done before they rushed on the Indigo Girls.

So it was well-written and interesting, and that is important, but also, none of us are free until all of us are free. A Black transwoman faces multiple levels of marginalization. If we want good things for all of us, we need to pay attention to not only all of us but especially those most likely to be cast aside.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gratitude to Goodreads for providing the chance to delve into a memoir that elevates the courage of its author. I believe Racquel Willis' book has the power to inspire people to embrace their authentic selves. Thank you, Racquel, for allowing us to witness and share in your experiences.

Racquel Willis, a transgender woman of color, shares her journey in this memoir, shedding light on the challenges faced by the trans community regularly. As a journalist, Racquel's prolific writing made reading her book a truly enjoyable experience.

[Mallory (onmalsshelf) Bartel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Like others, I first heard of Raquel when her microphone was cut off at the Women’s March. Other than that, I knew absolutely nothing about her.

I usually stay away from memoirs by people in their thirties as I sometimes think a memoir by someone in their thirties is unnecessary, but I think this is necessary and so well written.

Raquel takes us through her childhood to teenage agents when she came out as gay and to college when she came out as transgender. Her multiple jobs are inspiring and her work to make others heard is much needed.

I recommend this on audio.

[Eel · Rating 4 out of 5]

This autobiography paints a clear picture of Raquel Willis’ life from childhood to a grown woman and prominent member of the community without sweeping racism or transphobia under the rug. Life is messy, or as she says in this book, “Problematic as fuck.”

I’ve read a few biographies like this one before, and they all have different struggles during childhood in common. You can’t help where you were born or how you feel about your body, but you can always work towards a better future, even if it costs you everything.