Erica Elizabeth Ravenwood is a storyteller whose journey speaks softly through music, imagery, and raw truth. Rather than speak directly into a camera, she lets her videos breathe with emotion and memory, an artistic collage of a life that has known both profound pain and quiet triumph. Born in 1965, Erica came of age in a time when the words and support systems for transgender youth were nearly nonexistent. Yet even in those isolating decades, she held onto a spark of magic, from childhood afternoons in her mother’s kitchen to the awe of watching Star Wars light up the screen at age 12. A former Army scout and Gulf War veteran, Erica has lived many lives, each one shaped by resilience and a longing to be seen as she truly is. Her transition, documented with candor and care on YouTube, began in earnest in the early 2000s, following a harrowing chapter of struggle and survival. Her videos emerged not as declarations, but as acts of healing, soft declarations of truth meant to uplift others in similar shoes.
Erica is also a mother, a proud grandparent, and, in her own words, probably the coolest “Grandpa” ever. She is fiercely open about her identity, no longer burdened by the need to “pass,” and embraces being a visible, vocal transgender woman. Her life hasn’t followed a traditional script, but it has been marked by deep introspection, courage, and grace. Whether recalling her gentle moments with her mom and grandmother or navigating the trauma of schoolyard cruelty and adult misdiagnosis, Erica shares her truth with striking vulnerability and wit. This is a conversation with a woman who has carried pain and turned it into purpose, a beautiful testament to the strength it takes to live authentically.
Monika: Erica, welcome. I’m truly grateful to have you here, so we can trace the path of your journey and the quiet strength that carried you through it.
Erica: Hi Monika. Thank you so much for asking me to do this. I’m just a little fish in a big sea, really. I do have to correct the term “video blogger,” though. That would suggest I actually talk to the camera, which really isn’t my style. Rather, I use music and images to help me tell my story. It’s a quieter, more reflective way of expressing myself, and it feels more natural to who I am.
Monika: Erica, before we dive deeper, could you share a glimpse of who you are, perhaps the version of you that took shape long before the world had language for it?
Erica: Few words, LOL. You don’t know me very well, Monika. I’ll try to keep it pretty basic. I was born in 1965, a difficult period to grow up transgender, since the information and resources didn’t exist back then like they do today. But growing up in the ’70s was also a magical time. I was 12 years old when Star Wars came out, for crying out loud. What better era was there to be a kid?
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"Transgender: My Personal Transition part one Growing Up" (YouTube) |
That being said, as many transgender girls do, I grew up without friends. I’ll go into that more in a later question. I hid, buried, denied all that I could as I got older, so that by the time I met my future wife, I had a pretty decent alter persona going, one that at least allowed me to pass as male. I found the strong, silent type the easiest to pull off. If I said little, I’d have less of a chance of giving my true thoughts away. I became an expert at surviving invisibly, even when my heart was aching to be seen.
Monika: What led you to join the military, was it a search for structure, escape, or something else entirely?
Monika: What led you to join the military, was it a search for structure, escape, or something else entirely?
Erica: I went into the Army in 1986, mostly in an attempt to please my dad, but also to further my denial. An Army scout for the 101st Airborne was my first job, and I went to many different training schools. I did a tour in the Sinai, which was wonderful, it’s where I learned to scuba dive and climbed Mt. Sinai on several occasions. I also served in the Gulf War until I was discharged for mental exhaustion in 1991. The military taught me discipline, but it also forced me to bury my truth even deeper than before.
My (now ex, but still best friend) wife and I had three wonderful kids together, and she later had a fourth child after we separated whom I consider my own. I have two grandchildren and am probably the coolest “Grandpa” ever.
Monika: What inspired you to start documenting your transition journey through video? Was it an act of healing, outreach, or something else entirely?
Erica: The first video I made was on a different channel than the one I use now. On January 7, 2007, I had a suicide attempt (which is mentioned briefly in Goodbye Alice in Wonderland) and created the video the day after I got out of the hospital. I made it as part of my healing process (Transgender Inequality) and made some others throughout that year.
It was a difficult two years for me. I drove from New York to California one night after what had been a six-month nervous breakdown, and I had hit that point of, “You either need to do something, or you’re going to die.” I went to live with a transgender girl and her husband whom I had met online and went from boy to girl literally overnight, not something I would suggest other people do. I believe my greatest difficulty came from trying to constantly “pass.” That’s something I’ll go into a little more in the next question. Even though those early videos were raw and messy, they became proof that I was still alive, and still trying.
During my time in California, I was seen by the V.A. (Veterans Administration), but they didn’t know how to treat a transgender veteran, at least not at that facility. My gender identity, though acknowledged since I presented as female, was never directly addressed. Instead, I was treated for bipolar disorder and schizophrenia and was heavily medicated. Although my time in Bakersfield, California, wasn’t enjoyable, I don’t regret it. I learned a lot from the experience.
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| Erica and her Mom. |
I came back to New York in guy mode in January 2009. My children knew about California, so it wasn’t really a secret, but they were young, and for their sake, I buried everything all over again. I continued being seen through the V.A. here in Western New York, under the mistaken assumption that all V.A. records had followed me and that they already knew about California. I never brought it up with my psychiatrist, and she continued treating me the same way they had in California. (I know this seems convoluted in relation to the question, but I have a point. Really, I do. Honest.)
Monika: Did your transition or your honesty about it ever have serious consequences for your mental or physical health?
Erica: I had reached a point of overmedication that landed me in the hospital for a month. Thankfully, the psychiatrist that was assigned to me knew enough to take me off everything, and I started a long detox period. Hypermania is my natural state, and he started me on an MAOI inhibitor. Well, after that I felt like a whole new person. I liken it to the Robert De Niro character in Awakenings.
I had been suffering from agoraphobia to the point where I wouldn’t go to the mailbox unless it was midnight, and my psychiatrist suggested I find a chat room to get at least some social interaction. I came back to my next appointment and told her I took her advice.
She said, “Great! What kind of chat room did you find?” as she was typing away, looking at her computer.
“A transgender one,” I replied.
She froze and stiffened, turning in her chair, her eyes boring through me.
“Are you transgender?” she asked.
“Yes,” was my answer.
“And why did you never tell me this?”
She’s still mad at me to this day, but I was off and running at that point. That was the beginning of August 2013.
Back to your original question. I started my current channel on September 6th because I feel I have experiences to share that might be helpful to others. It’s my way of turning pain into purpose, and that’s where real healing starts.
Monika: How would you describe where you are in your transition, emotionally, socially, and physically?
Erica: Mentally, I have fully transitioned, and to me, that’s the important part. I am very openly transgender and out to all my family, which is a large, extended one, and to the community, which is still perhaps getting used to the idea, but I’m having fun with it. Physically, I started HRT on November 6th, 2013.
I had said I would go into the idea of trying to “pass.” From the two years living in California, I know that was the largest source of stress in my life, not the fact that the part of town we lived in was the worst in Bakersfield and there were gang shootings on a nightly basis, not that I was penniless.
It was the constant worry and self-conscious feeling of “Do I pass?” I will never do that again. It’s OK to be transgender. I’m proud that I’m transgender. And if forever through my life I’m known as transgender, that’s fine by me. Letting go of that pressure has been one of the most freeing choices I’ve ever made.
Monika: How has your experience with hormone therapy been so far? Has it met your expectations, physically and emotionally?
Erica: HRT is going well. Apparently, I was born with a hormonal anomaly where I produce high amounts of both estrogen and testosterone, though my testosterone levels were fairly normal. This is something I never knew about before.
There had never been a reason to have my hormone levels checked until I was doing blood work in preparation for seeing the endocrinologist. Because my estrogen levels were fairly high naturally, I didn’t really have any issues when I started. I theorize that because my body was probably already used to it, it didn’t care about the extra estrogen we were putting into it. I did stop taking my spironolactone just recently due to some dehydration and headache issues, which we are monitoring and trying to determine the next step for.
I would like to take this opportunity for a little PSA and say to all your readers: please do not attempt HRT without the guidance of a medical professional. Transition is a wonderful thing, but it’s not worth your life to do it in an unsafe manner.
As far as GRS, I don’t plan on having the full surgery. An orchiectomy is all I plan to do surgically for various reasons. Suffice it to say, after long consideration, I feel it’s all I need for myself. Listening to your own body and trusting your personal path is crucial in this process.
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| In her prom. |
Monika: What was your childhood like, and when did you first sense that your gender identity didn’t align with how others saw you?
Erica: I felt I was female from my earliest memories. When I was very little, I didn’t know the difference and lived in a blissful state of unawareness until just before I started school. I was the youngest of four children, and there was a several-year gap between my youngest sister and me, so I spent all my time with my mom and grandma. They were both very sweet, kind, and gentle people and never said a word when I would follow behind them in the kitchen wearing my mom’s shoes or go to my sisters’ room to play with their toys. It was a very natural thing for any little girl to do, and I did it without thought or care because neither of them did anything to make it feel wrong.
My brother, who is ten years older than me and with whom I shared a room, was always afraid that I would break his stuff, when in fact I had no interest in his things. There was a point though, just before I turned five and right before I started school, that I remember my dad being angry with my mom for letting me be me. It was a sad turning point in my life. It was the first time I had been told, though not directly, that who I was, was wrong. Even at that young age, I remember how deeply that moment hurt and how confusing it felt to suddenly question something that had always been so natural.
Monika: Many transgender people describe school as one of the most difficult periods of their lives due to bullying and isolation. What was your experience like growing up in that environment?
Erica: I hated school from day one. I had never really been around other children too much, and it was painfully obvious I didn’t fit in. I wanted to play with the girls, but they didn’t want me to, and I was forced to be with the boys, who I wanted nothing to do with. When recess came and we were allowed to go outside, I would just walk out the gate and walk home at five years old.
My mom, always kind, would take me back, but I would cry. After a few days of this, they finally figured out they should lock the gate. The first couple of years I was just ostracized. After that, I started getting beaten up, and that continued on an almost daily basis until my parents put me in a very strict Christian school when I was in 6th grade.
I had never told my mom about being beaten up, and I was always afraid to talk to my dad. The Christian school was a fire-and-brimstone Baptist school, and while I was no longer beaten up, I was again ostracized and told I was going to hell regularly. I tried so hard to hide who I was, but I must not have done a very good job, or maybe I just gave off a vibe. Looking back, I think my silence and fear became part of the camouflage I wore just to survive.
Monika: What kind of treatment did you receive from your peers and the adults around you during those years?
Erica: I was often called gay, but they didn’t use that nice of a word. I also grew up being called Erica as a slur, which I would later embrace as my true name. I stayed in that school for three years but did everything I could to get kicked out by just refusing to do anything as far as schoolwork. It didn’t work, but after much pleading, my parents finally put me in a different Christian school.
My dad took me to Sears, calling me “squirrely burly” the entire time, up to that point, that was probably the most he had ever spoken to me, and he bought me a weight set. That summer, between eighth and ninth grade, I used that weight bench and grew six inches. By the time I got to the new school, which was an extremely small private school that only went to ninth grade, I was the biggest, tallest kid in school for the first time in my life, and that protected me that year. I was six feet tall at fifteen. It was the first time I realized that physical presence alone could offer some kind of safety, even if it didn’t make me feel any more accepted.
Erica: I was often called gay, but they didn’t use that nice of a word. I also grew up being called Erica as a slur, which I would later embrace as my true name. I stayed in that school for three years but did everything I could to get kicked out by just refusing to do anything as far as schoolwork. It didn’t work, but after much pleading, my parents finally put me in a different Christian school.
My dad took me to Sears, calling me “squirrely burly” the entire time, up to that point, that was probably the most he had ever spoken to me, and he bought me a weight set. That summer, between eighth and ninth grade, I used that weight bench and grew six inches. By the time I got to the new school, which was an extremely small private school that only went to ninth grade, I was the biggest, tallest kid in school for the first time in my life, and that protected me that year. I was six feet tall at fifteen. It was the first time I realized that physical presence alone could offer some kind of safety, even if it didn’t make me feel any more accepted.
Monika: What was your experience like in high school after everything you'd already endured?
Erica: I talked my parents into letting me go to the regular high school the following year, having had a year where I had felt good about myself for the first time since I had left the safety of my mom’s kitchen when I was so little. My parents were very worried and didn’t want me to, but they gave in. It turned out they were right, that it was a bad idea. The first week of tenth grade was one of the scariest times in my life. I went from being a big fish in a small pond to a very small fish in the open sea. I was beaten unconscious by a group of guys during gym, singled out for being tall and big and a challenge. What I thought had protected me before made me a target, and I didn’t have the faintest idea of how to fight back.
Erica: I talked my parents into letting me go to the regular high school the following year, having had a year where I had felt good about myself for the first time since I had left the safety of my mom’s kitchen when I was so little. My parents were very worried and didn’t want me to, but they gave in. It turned out they were right, that it was a bad idea. The first week of tenth grade was one of the scariest times in my life. I went from being a big fish in a small pond to a very small fish in the open sea. I was beaten unconscious by a group of guys during gym, singled out for being tall and big and a challenge. What I thought had protected me before made me a target, and I didn’t have the faintest idea of how to fight back.
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| A falling star? |
The first week of tenth grade was one of the scariest times in my life. I went from being a big fish in a small pond to a very small fish in the open sea. I was beaten unconscious by a group of guys during gym. Singled out for being tall and big and a challenge. What I thought had protected me before made me a target and I didn’t have the faintest idea of how to fight back.
When I came to, I climbed the fence and left, and never went back. It was the first year they had put a computer in charge of attendance, and some kid kept hacking it and clearing all the records. No one had any idea I wasn’t going to school. Instead, I would go to the library or hike Malibu Canyon, always taking my copy of The Hobbit with me.
At the very end of that year, someone came to my parents’ house. They finally figured out I hadn’t been attending, but by then the year was close enough to over that they didn’t make me go back. My mom and dad got divorced that year, and I went to live with my dad so I would be in a different district. I moved in with the man who had never spoken to me. It was very quiet. During that time, I found a strange comfort in solitude, books and nature were my only true companions.
When I came to, I climbed the fence and left, and never went back. It was the first year they had put a computer in charge of attendance, and some kid kept hacking it and clearing all the records. No one had any idea I wasn’t going to school. Instead, I would go to the library or hike Malibu Canyon, always taking my copy of The Hobbit with me.
At the very end of that year, someone came to my parents’ house. They finally figured out I hadn’t been attending, but by then the year was close enough to over that they didn’t make me go back. My mom and dad got divorced that year, and I went to live with my dad so I would be in a different district. I moved in with the man who had never spoken to me. It was very quiet. During that time, I found a strange comfort in solitude, books and nature were my only true companions.
END OF PART 1
All the photos: courtesy of Erica Elizabeth Ravenwood.
© 2014 - Monika Kowalska
