Summary: Hi, I'm Jaymie. I'm a 35-year-old trans woman from Florida, and a year ago I made a terrifying choice: I left everything behind, my fiancée Victoria, my friends, my entire life, and flew to Scotland seeking nothing more than a chance to breathe.

I came here hoping to pause, to find my footing, to wait out the storm back home. But the storm only got worse. And somewhere between my first scared steps off the plane and now, I became a woman without a country.

The truth is, I can't go back.

The nonbinary/intersex travel ban went into effect exactly two weeks from the day I left. The way the ban reads will make it almost impossible for a trans person who has changed their gender marker to travel in or out of the country, again on the basis of gender fraud.

https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/01/defending-women-from-gender-ideology-extremism-and-restoring-biological-truth-to-the-federal-government/

My passport and gender marker, legally changed by court order, is no longer recognized. And returning to the US isn't just dangerous; it's potentially deadly for someone like me. ICE has been instructed to specifically target trans people. If I land on American soil, I face detention in a men's facility, imprisonment, or worse. I've been on HRT for years. I wouldn't survive that.

How did I get here?

I spent about 30 years of my life trying to fit into societal boxes that weren’t made for me, struggling to reconcile who I was with the life I was living. Much of my time and focus was put into surviving the same economic reality so many of us face in the States. I endured through anxiety, depression, abuse, and most heavily, gender dysphoria. Finally, at one of my lowest points, I decided if I was going to be unhappy, I was going to at least be myself, too.

Because Florida had already proven to be largely unsafe for LGBTQ+ people, while I kept myself shaved and began taking HRT in secret, I continued to dress masculinely while trying to hide the changes. I could not have predicted just how hostile an environment my home state would become for people like me. From the time I began taking HRT in 2021, the state of Florida had begun taking steps to become Florida: Where Woke Goes to Die, a term later coined by Governor Desantis during his midterm election night victory speech in 2022.

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/ron-desantis-florida-where-woke-goes-to-die-midterm-election-win/

Despite the clear platform of intolerance from Desantis and my other representatives, it did not discourage me from transitioning. It did give me just enough time to meet my amazing fiancée Victoria, and escape with her to California in 2023. Just two months later, I received a handwritten letter from the medical office that prescribed my hormones. They were sorry, but they could no longer provide care for me due to the new guidelines. I was lucky - I had built a good rapport with the office, and they were kind enough to give me 7 months of refills before the regulations were put in place - but I was now unemployed, taking care of Victoria & my father-in-law, and desperate for a way to keep us fed.

So I set to work finding a new job, in a new town, in a new state. Despite California being regarded as largely liberal, the conservative desert town we lived in did not provide the welcoming job opportunities I had hoped for. Interviews always included name and gender corrections, limited transportation concerns, and uncomfortable glances between interviewers upon learning I was transitioning. Protections were legally in place for us, but everywhere I went I felt like the odd one out while jobs often passed me by without a second glance.

Until I began working as a fundraiser for a human rights organization.

This was my dream job. I'd be able to talk to people about the horrific things happening in Florida. By this time the state had already reached 7 of the 10 red flags of genocide against trans people, and I was hoping to stop it from happening elsewhere. (https://www.genocidewatch.com/tenstages) Pressure was high. The causes we fought for led to a lot of aggression, and being the only trans person on my team, I was often singled out as a target by people who wanted to make an example of “people like me”. My friendly greetings to speak briefly about human rights were regularly met with slurs, accusations, and threats. At one point, I was even told “I don't support sexualizing children like you and the organization you represent.”

On that day, I spoke up about the person’s disgusting and baseless insults. It was the worst thing they could accuse a person of, and I was the target of their fixation because of the terrible lies spread by politicians, podcasters, and talking heads all across the country. These were my neighbors who looked at me, so happy and comfortable wearing a dress and makeup, and saw a freak or a predator. This is the view US leadership has instilled into the minds of regular people who probably would have opened the door for me politely in the past.

To protect the image of the cause we were fighting for, I was asked to leave the company.

Republican politicians and their supporters spent $215 million in the upcoming election to erase people like me and keep us out of public life. (https://truthout.org/articles/republicans-spent-nearly-215m-on-tv-ads-attacking-trans-rights-this-election/) Even my own political representatives (such as Gavin Newsom https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/mar/06/gavin-newsom-trans-people-sport

) continue to indulge conservative voices, giving into fear. We were expendable.

In time, I found new work. I looked for opportunities, expanded my training, and even joined a program that took college courses toward leadership in the company! But every day, anti-trans legislation would continue to get more numerous and aggressive. It started with bathrooms, then sports as a whole. Texas tried passing legislation making it punishable to be trans on the grounds of “gender fraud.” New things kept coming.

As soon as I saw the administration moving towards restricting gender marker changes, I applied to have mine updated and legally changed my name. I thought having my records reflect my real life would make it easier to find a job, or at least make it to the interview stage. The ink on those first documents was barely dry before I was told (by the Social Security Administration) that under Trump’s administration, not even a judge’s order would authorize a gender update in their systems. Similarly, since Florida held my birth certificate, it became impossible to update my remaining records.

Soon, conservatives were working towards labeling anyone who even defended transgender people or antifa as domestic terrorists. My head began swimming. ICE was being sent out in droves where I worked in Los Angeles, sometimes supported by the National Guard.

So I traveled to Scotland to visit a friend and clear my head.

But here's what I didn't expect: I found safety here.

The people and community didn't just tolerate me, they wrapped around me. They offered couches when I had nowhere to sleep, friendship when I was lonely beyond words, and saw me for exactly who I am: a woman ready to build, contribute, and thrive. Victoria and I are still engaged, still planning our future, just waiting for the day when she can join me somewhere safe. I miss my family every single day. But for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm standing on solid ground.

I'm currently here on a visitor visa. I cannot work. I cannot access public funds. Every day my resources shrink, and without legal status, this dream of safety collapses. I need to file for asylum now, but I cannot do it alone.

This is where you come in.

I'm asking for help securing an immigration lawyer and covering basic living expenses while my case is processed. I'm not asking you to save me. I'm asking you to invest in the life I'm ready to build: the job I'll find, the community I'll keep strengthening, the marriage I'll finally celebrate in safety, the woman I'll get to become when she's not fighting just to exist.

If you help me now, my life won't just be a story of survival anymore; I'll thrive. I'll work. I'll contribute. I'll finally be the person I spent 35 years trying to become.

And if there's anything left when I'm stable and safe? It goes toward completing my transition and care that will finally let me feel at home in my own body, in my new home country.

The window is small. My visa limits are real. The legal process is urgent. But the community I've found here is real too. The life waiting for me is real. I just need help bridging this gap.

Please share this, donate if you can, and know that whatever you give isn't just keeping me fed and housed. It's keeping me here, where I belong, where I'm safe, where I'm finally free to become myself.

With gratitude and hope,

Jaymie Bea Honeywilde

P.S. — If you're reading this, you're already part of my story. Thank you for being here.