An explanation leaves my lips, that I am trans and nonbinary - meaning that I identify with a gender other than male or female.

Instantly, I am placed in a space where I am vulnerable and open to judgement.

Common follow-up questions from a curious bystander may include “but what’s in your pants?”, “can’t you just pick one?” and, “so, can I call you ‘it’?”.

My gender is at the tip of wagging tongues, the punchline of every joke, and yet even though gender seems like such a hot topic, so few people appear to understand what it can mean and how important it truly is to support trans and gender diverse youth.

As trans youth, we are always required to communicate our identities to a world that doesn’t want to listen, and this can be distressing, tiring and difficult to cope with.

This contributes to the fact that trans people 18 and older are nearly 11 times more likely to attempt suicide in their lifetime and have a far higher risk of depression and anxiety than the general population.

There is good news. We make up less than 1 per cent of the population, but our pride is loud thanks to the work of those who have come before us, plus the impact of movements like marriage equality, which make Australia a more inclusive place overall.

Trans youth are more likely to engage in art and activism than cisgender peers (people who identify with the gender they were assigned at birth). This is seen in performances like Mama Alto’s Gender Euphoria, an all-trans cabaret performance, or the turnout of trans youth at rallies for equality all over Australia.

I have experienced the importance of activism for my own mental health this year as I engaged in Youth Affairs Council Victoria's Rural Youth Activators program, in which I was supported to create a project to help my rural LGBTQIA+ community.

Through YACVic’s program, I met a host of incredible young people and worked to develop my understanding of my own community in Warrnambool. I felt empowered to create change and ran a program called Queer Connections, focused on building greater understanding between rural and metro queer communities.

Working on Queer Connections gave me a great appreciation for the importance of communication to the LGBTQIA+ community, especially to trans youth.

Our communities often have a bad reputation for inclusivity and supporting diverse groups, but I know the majority of people are ready and willing to change.

The conversations we shared showed me people are ready to listen to trans youth and support us, they might just need a little nudge in the right direction.

It isn’t hard to use someone’s correct pronouns; I understand language is difficult and when we are programmed to call someone "he" it can be difficult to rewire our brains to call them "she" or even "they".

An example I like to use to make pronoun use more approachable is the dog. You see a cute dog on the street and you go to pet it and tell the owner "she is such a good girl!".

The owner smiles, but tells you that "he’s a boy actually". Rather than arguing or being upset, you simply say "oh, what a good boy he is!". Using pronouns and correcting yourself isn’t the end of the world, and it does wonders for the happiness of trans and gender diverse people like me.

It's as easy to ask as it is to make assumptions. It seems to be natural to see long hair and assume that the person is a girl or spy a pair of trousers and guess at masculinity.

These assumptions are often incorrect and can be harmful to someone who is trans or gender diverse.

A good practice is to use "they" or "them" to refer to someone whose gender you are unsure of, and to ask them how they identify. Rather than yell at trans youth for being sensitive, listen to our voices, our stories and perspectives. It’s OK not to understand exactly what trans youth are going through, but that is not an excuse to harass or attack them. Listening to our stories and experiences may open your eyes and give you some empathy for our community.

Ultimately, treat trans people like me for who we are: people. It may sound self-explanatory but it’s surprising how often people forget that trans people have hobbies and passions outside of their gender identity. My gender is only a fraction of my life. 

As a rural young person moving to Melbourne for university, I find I have plenty to worry about outside my gender identity, and it seems crazy that it is all people seem to focus on.

I want to thank my rural community for listening to my story and respecting my identity. Each moment of support helps me and other trans youth be ourselves without fear of attack and can even mean the difference between life and death. By listening and understanding, you help build a better future for all young people.

Max Taylor is one of YACVic’s Activators, an eight-month program to help rural young people aged 18-25 accelerate their advocacy work. Activators receive support, training, resources, professional development and networking opportunities. Find out more at yacvic.org.au/yacvic-rural/activators-program