This story is a sneak preview to the book: All the Genders: Northern Lights, Northern Lives

Kelby’s Story

Gender: nonbinary, pretty fluid

Sexuality: bisexual

Pronouns: any, whatever fits the vibe

Home: Juneau, Alaska

From: Illinois

Interests: Dancing, climbing, canoeing and the stars. I love being held in somebody’s arms and chasing the sun in an old classic car. I’m a morning person who thinks breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Something was always a little bit off. I never felt comfortable with that masculine box everyone always tried to put me in, including teachers, parents, my peers and role models. I always thought it was silly that I was grouped with all the boys instead of with my friends, who were much more like each other than either boys or girls. 

I tried to fit in – for a lot of reasons that don’t matter any longer, but the repression nearly killed me. I was convinced that being trans was not an option. I saw very little into the lives of queer folks and what I did see in my small hometown looked painful and lonely. I wasn’t brave enough to blaze my own trail or write my own script – I was a kid who hardly had internet access. So, I tried to compensate; I was in boy scouts for years, worked on cars, kept my hair buzzed short and only wore t-shirts and jeans. I couldn’t think about how my sense of style and fashion was affected by my gender, so I pushed it out of mind altogether. I even went by a different name. To only my closest friends I was Kelby; I could not accept people’s perception of this masculine persona as the way they saw me. I picked one of my middle names and had all my teachers and classmates call me that for years. 

I hated it. I hated myself. In my depression and apathy, I hurt those around me. 

It wasn’t until I was 21 that I saw people living authentically. Queer people. Successful, stable, queer people who were accepted and even celebrated by their whole community. It was life changing, and their example showed me the way out.

I love this place. These locations by the Mendenhall glacier and on the rocky shores of North Douglas; they feel wild and wonderful and free. They are places I am lucky enough to work as a guide and play as my authentic self. I am grateful to call this place home, after running so far, and for so long from many others. 

The ice doesn’t care who I love or how others perceive me, it just is.  And it is beautiful.