We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Logan Bloom a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Logan, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Do you feel you or your work has ever been misunderstood or mischaracterized? If so, tell us the story and how/why it happened and if there are any interesting learnings or insights you took from the experience?
I face a lot of adversity on social media, specifically Instagram, which is where I produce all of my content, writing samples, and photography. I present as a cisgender, straight, white man, but I am visible in my transgender identity for those who don’t benefit from the privilege of safety and security to do so. A lot of my photography and writing relates to my experience as a transgender man who has experienced transitioning since 2018 and has undergone many gender affirming surgeries. I began documenting this process diligently when I was 21 years old, and I haven’t looked back since. Unfortunately, especially in recent years, I get a lot of hateful comments as a response to my visibility. “Still a woman,” “mutilated female,” and comments minimizing me to my birth sex stain the comment sections of my posts on a daily basis. I deserve better; my community deserves better. My posts don’t hurt anyone and I prioritize spreading love, hope, kindness, and acceptance in a world that doesn’t bother to give me those things in return. I still believe in love and human connection, despite this.
I think people forget I’m a human, too. I think people struggle a lot with their own acceptance and insecurities. I think people have lost sight of what it means to coexist and the value that diverse backgrounds and experiences bring our society. We all play a key role in the success of our society and of the human race. We all matter. I think people forget that.
There is such a fixation on transgender people these days that there has also been a desensitization of what it means to be a compassionate human being. I know I only receive hate because I choose to be visible online. I live a majority of my real life under the guise that I, like most people, am cisgender. I know I don’t get looked at twice in public, because to the public, I’m just another white guy. There is something empowering about being so loud and proud online, in a place that doesn’t breed tolerance. I want to show my community that trans people can, and do, have long, successful, happy, and fulfilling lives. I want to show trans people that it does get better. It may take time, but it does get better.

Logan, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
I am 28, a special education teacher in Denver, Colorado, I play soccer in my free time both recreationally and competitively, and I cook and read a lot. I’m also in a graduate program at CU Boulder to obtain my master’s in Educational Foundations, Policy, and Practice. I also happen to be trans.
I was born a girl in 1996, but I never felt quite right. I remember being as young as three years old and praying before bed that I’d wake up a boy, that maybe this was a mistake and it was all a bad dream. I think at some point I accepted the cards I was dealt, and I came out as a lesbian in 8th grade. I always loved girls. It felt natural to me. I didn’t know what it meant to be gay until 5th grade; I didn’t even know I wasn’t supposed to like girls until that moment, too. I thank my mom for that; she never forced gender roles, stereotypes, or expectations on me. I began wearing my brother’s hand me downs and shopping in the boys section once I found the words to define my preference.
There came a point in 2017 and 2018, my junior year of college, where I just couldn’t shake the feeling of incompletion. I was 20 years old when my girlfriend at the time asked if I thought I might be trans. She called me her boyfriend for the first time, and I felt the piece of me that I had been missing for so long erupt like a volcano into the forefront of my vision. I finally had the words, the understanding.
It took me so long to accept this part of me. I did research on research on research to try to navigate and figure out the meaning of being trans, what caused it, why I was made to be this way. I remember reading a Swedish study about brain neuron firing patterns and how male brains fired neurons front to back, while female brains fire across hemispheres. The study identified that, in cases of transgender people, their brains fired neurons in patterns that were more similar to the gender they identified with. I accepted this logic for a while, dwindling the cause of being trans down to a neurological imbalance; a genetic mishap.
It wasn’t until I went through various, rewarding, gender affirming surgeries that changed my life, my perspective, and my understanding of the world that I understood transsexuality as something far deeper, far more spiritual and universal to the human experience. I began to understand that transitioning is another form of creating. Some people are born with paint brushes, drumsticks, typewriters, or pianos. I was born with this vessel, this body that I was gifted to craft into something not everyone is blessed with the opportunity of. There’s a quote: “God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason he made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine; so that humanity might share in the act of creation.”
I use my writing and photography to cultivate a community space on Instagram that empowers the transgender community, uplifts the voices of the voiceless, and promotes hope in the face of a world that lacks kindness. I write to provide perspective, to brighten the dim and terrifying experience that is being trans, and to show other trans folks that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I write to change minds and peoples’ perceptions of their own experience. Transitioning is beautiful, and trans people deserve to feel that way about it.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
As a transgender writer and advocate, the most rewarding aspect of being a creative is the opportunity to authentically express my experiences and foster understanding through storytelling. Creating narratives the resonate with others not only validates my own journey but also builds bridges of empathy, challenging misconceptions about the transgender community. This creative process empowers me to advocate for change, celebrate diversity, and contribute to a more inclusive society.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?
As a transgender writer and advocate, one significant lesson I’ve had to unlearn is the notion that my identity should conform to others’ expectations. Growing up, societal pressures and stereotypes often made me feel that I needed to fit into predefined molds to be accepted. This led to internal conflicts and a suppression of my true self.
The turning point came when I immersed myself in diverse narratives and connected with a community of individuals who celebrated authenticity over conformity. Through these experiences, I realized that embracing my unique journey and voice not only empowered me but also resonated with others facing similar challenges.
Unlearning the need to conform has been liberating. It has allowed me to create art and advocate from a place of genuine self-expression, fostering deeper connections and promoting understanding within and beyond the transgender community.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @itsloganbloom





