Unapologetically Zova

Listen to the story:

To me, identity is like makeup. With makeup, you have the freedom to choose everything: the foundation, the colours, the style. You can create a bold, dramatic look one day and a soft, natural glow the next. It’s your choice. But, like any makeup routine, it takes time, skill, and resources to get it just right. Not all looks come out perfect the first time. Sometimes, a smudge or a mistake forces you to start over, leaving you to redo the look. 

Identity is also shaped over time, by what you’ve learned and experimented with, and how you’ve messed up. Through these experiences, you find your true style. In my early years, my identity was a face of makeup I never chose — a look I was expected to wear. It wasn’t a style that reflected me; it was a mask made for someone I thought I had to be, one that didn’t suit the real me underneath. 

Identity is complex. It’s blended and layered, much like an intricate makeup routine. So, let’s make this easier: Join me as I do my makeup, and I’ll walk you through how I became Zova. 

Foundation 

Having a solid foundation is the most crucial step in my makeup routine. It creates a smooth canvas and conceals blemishes and imperfections. A strong base sets the stage for everything that follows, ensuring the rest of your makeup applies seamlessly. Similarly, childhood should start with a solid foundation — a safe space. Just as a good base in makeup allows other elements to shine, a safe supportive environment in childhood sets a child up to grow and thrive.

My first safe space was Christmas. The season was bright, colourful, and gave me an excuse to wear eccentric outfits. For me, it was also a chance to be extra and feminine, something I couldn’t express the rest of the year.

My fourth Christmas was a memorable one. I jolted awake as my brother screamed my name. I quickly jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs. When I got to the bottom of the staircase, I saw a gorgeous pink box with the word “princess” engraved on it. My heart raced as I ran over, eager to see what was inside. I tossed the lid aside and was overwhelmed with happiness — the box was filled with princess dresses. My hands were shaking as I dug through them, until, finally, I saw the dress I’d been looking for. As I pulled it out, my mother came over and said, “Those aren’t for you; they’re for your sister.” I’ll never forget the overwhelming embarrassment. I was a “boy” and boys weren’t supposed to like dresses. This was the first time I experienced the harsh reality of gender expectations. 

As I grew older, gender expectations continued to be a constant point of discomfort for me. I could never wrap my head around the concept of gender, and how one gender was allowed to do things that the other couldn’t. It was strange to me that I couldn’t play with the “girls’ toys” even though I enjoyed them. I had always been fascinated by women, but it became clear early on that this fascination wasn’t fueled by attraction. I knew I didn’t like women romantically, but there was always this feeling of jealousy towards them. At the time I didn’t understand this feeling, but looking back it all makes sense. 

For my sixth Christmas, I got a Cinderella doll complete with a horse, carriage, and Prince Charming. I can easily say that this was one of the highlights of my life. Not just because I got the doll I’d been wanting, but because that was the first time I felt accepted, like my feelings were being heard. This doll symbolized my femininity; something that had brought me shame before was now redeemed. I don’t remember what happened to the doll, but the memory stands strong in my mind: gender euphoria, pure happiness over a doll.

That’s the amazing thing about gender euphoria: sometimes it’s the little things that have the biggest impact. For people who don’t experience gender dysphoria, I’d describe it as constantly feeling like you’re wearing a Halloween costume. Yeah, it might be fun for a day or two, but after a while the costume becomes uncomfortable, stinky, or inappropriate.

Contour

After completing a solid base, your face can appear flat. Without contours, your features might seem less defined, losing the depth and dimension that give your face character. Just like contouring, having confidence in your body adds depth and definition to your identity. Confidence is a complex feeling, often shaped by strict body image standards. Just as a contour creates the balance of light and shadow to make the face more interesting, body confidence needs to balance with self-acceptance and self-forgiveness. 

I’ve always felt disconnected from my body. My mind has never felt quite right. In my childhood, I remember closing my eyes and imagining a woman. This woman was powerful, confident, a star — all things I aspired to be. It wasn’t until later in life that I realized this woman was everything I wanted to be. This woman… was me. 

For most of my childhood and adolescence I felt like I didn’t have ownership over my body, nor did I want ownership. I felt like I was just temporarily “renting” my body, like borrowing a friend’s car. I’d take care of it, avoid causing damage, but it never felt quite as comfortable as being in my own. It was a constant feeling of uneasiness, this uncomfortable nagging in the back of my head — dysphoria disguised as insecurity. 

I think my dysphoria is fuelled by fear — as most dysphoria is. A fear that my body will only be viewed as a fad, a fetish, or a costume; that my body is a fantasy, something people desire but never truly want. 

Alo Johnston’s book Am I Trans Enough? adds another layer of complexity to my thoughts. Johnston explores how society perceives trans bodies, diving deep into taboo topics that, while uncomfortable, are necessary to discuss. The harsh stigmas surrounding trans feminine bodies have fuelled a profound amount of hatred, making these conversations even more urgent.

This is what I found myself thinking about — why would I put in all this work to transition and then have it not be appreciated? These thoughts stunted my transition for years, and it’s something I often don’t share because I’m embarrassed; I’m embarrassed that I would ever sacrifice my life for validation from others.

Eyes

Eyeshadow is a cosmetic product applied to the eyelids to enhance the eyes with colour, dimension, and shape. It comes in various forms, including powder, cream, and liquid, allowing for different textures and finishes. Much like eyeshadow, my personal journey has been vibrant, colourful, and filled with glitter. I have been flamboyant since birth. From day one, people called me gay. It wasn’t said maliciously but factually; it was just something everyone told me I was. This unintentionally became the main factor suppressing my transness. Since I was told I was gay, that’s what I thought I was. There was never a question about my sexuality; it was decided for me. When I was four years old, I was in the kitchen with my mom, colouring my favourite colouring book. I looked up at my mom and said, “Why did God make me a boy when I’m a girl?” Even at age four, I knew my truth. This was before the world tainted my perception of self. If I could talk to that little boy now, I would tell her that she has a long journey ahead, because it wasn’t until 15 years later that this thought would pop up again. 

My desire to embrace my femininity was suppressed throughout much of my teenage years, likely due to a combination of bullying and societal pressure. Then, in 2016, a little show called RuPaul’s Drag Race popped up on my Netflix. At the time, only season eight was available, and I must have watched it a million times. I was completely captivated by the queens, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of relating to their journeys. 

After years of obsessing over the queens, I finally decided I wanted to start doing drag, but I didn’t have the courage to take the leap. The first time I saw drag in person was in late 2021. I was 20 and eager to go to my first queer bar, Club 200. I walked in for the first time and saw a six-foot-tall drag queen doused in rhinestones dancing to Celine Dion’s “River Deep, Mountain High.” The rhinestones reflected the light, making it look as if her dress was alive. I could see her confidence as she performed. The joy on her face and her comfort with her femininity sparked something inside me. 

I finally started drag in February 2022, and it felt like a weight had been lifted. All the shame I’d carried for so long melted away as soon as I stepped onto the stage. For the first time in my life, I was able to truly be myself, a feeling that was both liberating and, sadly, completely new. My friends came to support me, and after the show they all wanted to take photos. We squished together and posed. I must’ve looked at the photo for hours. I couldn’t even recognize myself. Staring back at me was a beautiful, confident, and feminine version of myself — something I had wanted for years. I could hardly believe the person in the photo was me. 

Looking back, I realize that that was the first time I truly saw myself. The curtain of gender was pulled back that night and it revealed a desire I’d had for a while. As the months went by, I continued to get into drag; it became an addiction. I found myself wanting to always be in drag, at the grocery store, mall, and even lounging around at home. This feeling uprooted my life and forced me to think of alternative ways of expressing my gender. Drag broke down the gender binary that society had created. I got to the point where I was only confident when I was in drag. I hated my boy self, and I wanted him gone. It took a year of experimenting, therapy, and a lot of self-reflection to finally find my truth. 

Blush

Blush is a makeup product used to add colour to the cheeks, giving a healthy, radiant glow to the face. Blush, to me, symbolizes my transition — soft, feminine colour that evokes a bright, empowering feeling. My transition took time to unfold, and my tendency to overthink sometimes slowed my progress. But I’ve learned that everyone’s journey is personal, and there’s no set timeline for growth. I finally gave myself the space to truly reflect on what I wanted for my transition in the summer of 2023. 

I was on a vacation in São Miguel, Azores, visiting family. One day we decided to go on a hike to a waterfall, so we packed our car and left very early. I’ll never forget the connection to the land I felt when I was there. When we finally arrived, we saw the gorgeous waterfall in the distance, bursting from the side of a mountain. Following the trickle of a creek with smooth, wet boulders beneath our feet, we reached the marvelous pool beneath the falls — just in time for a swim.

As my family was swimming, I snuck off and laid on this huge boulder. The sun had warmed it, creating the perfect spot to lie down. When I was lying down, I was observing all the unique forms of nature. I started to think about how these plants grow, and how all forms of nature are allowed to flourish in their own way. It doesn’t matter how they look; they’re still thriving and providing life to other species. I gazed upwards to a massive 20-foot palm tree with a shadow stretching twice that, its cool refuge protecting many creatures from the glaring hot sun. This tree isn’t so different from me, I realized. If I live authentically and unapologetically, I can offer shade and shelter to others. By embracing my strength and privilege, I can help protect and uplift fellow transgender people who are abandoned to face the harsh and unwelcoming world. 

Then suddenly, the thought, “Am I trans?” Surrounded by sunlight and life, I allowed myself to surrender to the thought — to not resist, to not question, but simply let it exist.  This was the moment I decided to start transitioning. Allowing myself to accept my transness without judgment opened life. My journey is like a palm tree: the longer I stay on course, the bigger my protective shadow becomes. Accepting my transness, and surrendering to the challenges that come with it, has proven to be almost freeing. Now that the world knows my truth I can fully and wholeheartedly express myself. The barriers of gender and expectations have disappeared and now I can glow while being rooted in my trans beauty.

Lips

The lips are essential to finish your makeup look. Lipstick, lip gloss, or lip balm provide a bold or subtle pop of colour, enhancing the natural shape and definition of the lips. It can completely transform the look of your face, from neutral to dramatic. Lips are a powerful tool, one I’ve learned to use.

My mouth has gotten me in trouble for most of my life. I’ve always been known to speak my mind, and I never take no for an answer.  When I was 16, I started painting my nails — and that set off a controversy. Everywhere I went, I faced questions, stares, and resistance. But my words became my shield. If someone made an inappropriate comment about my nails, I never hesitated to clap back.  Some might call it stubborn, but I call it resilient. This resilience was there when I was arguing with my mom about wearing a crop top, or painting my nails, or when I told my sister I was trans. That’s the beautiful thing about your voice: it’s always with you, through the good, bad, and ugly. 

My goal now is to use my voice to amplify the voices of others who may have less privilege than I do. In a way, my voice protected me and provided the tools I needed to survive in a world that wasn’t Zova-friendly. 

Setting Spray

Setting spray is a lightweight mist that locks your makeup in place, ensuring it lasts all day without smudging or fading. In the same way, activism and speaking up for what’s right help reinforce the queer community, providing the support and resilience needed to thrive.

Trans rights have been under attack. The resurgence of an obsession with trans bodies has caused so many people to fear us — alienating our existence. The truth is, people don’t attack us out of hatred; they attack us out of jealousy, fear, and ignorance. Jealous of our freedom, fear of our authenticity, and ignorant of the courage it takes to live as our true selves. Political figures in the United States and Canada continue to make laws that restrict our right to live because they can’t stand to see someone living a life they simply cannot. According to research done by an American non-profit Everytown for Gun Safety, the number of transgender people who were murdered in the U.S. doubled between 2017 and 2021. While Canada is often seen as a safe space for 2SLGBTQIA+ individuals, it is not exempt from hate. Attacks on the queer community in Canada have been rising each year. On October 31, 2024, the Government of Alberta introduced Bill 26, a legislation aimed at “preserving” choice for minors identifying as transgender. In reality, this bill imposes restrictions on essential gender-affirming care for minors. 

Gender-affirming care is a topic that continues to be brought up in anti-trans conversations. There is a ton of misinformation going around about gender-affirming care, things like it’s not necessary, it’s mutilation, and that it is solely for aesthetic reasons. What people don’t understand is that gender-affirming care can be complex surgeries, but it can also be a haircut, a clothing item, or makeup. Implementing these laws will have extreme impacts on trans youth and their mental health. Studies have shown that choosing to accept trans youth by using their correct pronouns and name has been shown to reduce suicidal ideation by up to 50 per cent.

Transgender people are leaders, storytellers, and caregivers. We had to fight for our rights, and in doing so, we gained power — a power that confuses and frustrates others. As trans people, we’ve learned to ignore societal pressure just like the world has ignored us. We refuse to conform to society’s “ideals,” and it is this refusal that has granted us our freedom. 

The journey to self-discovery is difficult and often intimidating. It’s not easy to go against the grain in search of what truly brings you happiness. The process is complex, time-consuming, and exhausting — but ultimately, it’s worth it. My own journey has been no different. It has been a continuous cycle of experimentation, mistakes, and growth, each step bringing me closer to understanding myself. I’ve learned to blend the layers of my identity, finding the style that truly reflects who I am. Now, my makeup is finally starting to look like me — unapologetically Zova.