Jodi Gray is a Canadian author, advocate, and community leader whose life story is rooted in resilience, honesty, and a refusal to let shame have the final word. Raised in a deeply conservative and religious environment in North Carolina, Jodi spent much of her early life surviving in silence, carrying a truth she did not yet have the language or safety to express. Her journey took her through military service, poverty, abuse, mental health crises, and repeated encounters with systems that failed to listen, yet also toward moments of awakening, chosen family, and the freedom to live authentically. Along the way, she learned that survival itself can be a form of quiet resistance, especially when simply existing as yourself feels dangerous. Therapy, peer support, and unexpected allies became lifelines that slowly reframed vulnerability as strength rather than weakness. Jodi’s relationship with mental health is not a footnote to her story but a central thread that informs how she shows up for others with compassion and clarity.
These experiences shaped her belief that lived experience carries its own kind of expertise, one that cannot be taught in textbooks or earned through titles. Now based in Vancouver, Jodi works in supportive housing for marginalized communities, with a particular focus on trans and gender diverse people, drawing on her lived experience to create safer, more compassionate spaces. She is a sought after speaker, a mentor, and the first transgender honouree of the Courage To Come Back Awards. In her memoir, The Evolution of Jodi: The Truth I Carried, she writes with striking vulnerability about survival, identity, and the slow, hard earned process of coming home to herself, offering readers not a polished success story, but something far more powerful: proof that simply staying alive, becoming authentic, and helping others along the way is an extraordinary achievement.
Monika: Congratulations on your book, The Evolution of Jodi: The Truth I Carried. I know how much of yourself you poured into these pages, so how does it feel to see your life story out in the world now, not just as memories or talks, but as a book people can actually hold and read?
Jodi: I have had the book in mind for several years, and it took close to a year to write. It was such a sense of accomplishment when I held the first physical copy. I couldn’t believe it was real. When I started thinking about others reading it, I was more scared than anything. It is a vulnerable thing to put yourself out there like that.
When I was writing, the hardest part was trying to evoke the emotions with words that I had felt in those moments in my life. I wasn’t sure how it would be taken by the reader and if anyone would be able to relate. So far, the feedback has been positive, and that has allowed me to go back to being excited and hopeful that maybe people can get something out of the book to help them or at least relate to it.
Monika: When you look back at your younger self growing up in North Carolina, in that deeply religious and conservative environment, what’s the moment that still stays with you the most, the one that really shaped how you learned to survive before you even had the words for who you were?
Jodi: It is really difficult to pinpoint one moment. There was not much room for questioning in my childhood. All I knew was what I learned from the people around me. I didn’t know enough to question; I just knew that being different was wrong. It was a source of shame instead of something to explore. I just wanted to be “normal.”
It was a tough way to live and an even tougher thing to escape when there were no role models to show me there could be a different way. This was pre-internet, so I couldn’t just look things up on my phone. Anyone who was brave enough to live a different lifestyle was ridiculed and not welcome in the circles I was exposed to.
When I joined the Navy, I did so to escape my parents. I never imagined that it would give me the freedom to explore my identity. I didn’t even know that was something that was possible. When I met the group I ended up hanging out with, it was like an epiphany. I realized it was okay to be yourself. It was much more fun than trying to control how you appear in the world and projecting a persona that wasn’t real.
Monika: You write so openly about knowing you were different long before you understood why. If you could sit across from that child today, what would you want her to know about the life she eventually builds, even after everything she goes through?
Jodi: I was a small child and constantly told what a weakling and an ugly person I was by my parents. They would tell me that I was worthless and would never amount to anything. Maybe if they knew me now, they would think they were right. We don’t share the same values, and what I consider successful probably doesn’t meet their definition of success. I think that would be what I would want to tell that child. Weak is never a word people could honestly use to describe you.
Living with a truth and hiding it for your safety is so strong. Living a life you have been taught to be ashamed of is stronger than most people. That little child will go through enough in life to break a lot of people. No judgment either; I am not sure how I made it without breaking. But I did, and I have put myself in a position to hopefully help others. I didn’t let the shame win, I didn’t go along with the crowd, I found my own crowd. I would tell the child that no matter what anyone says, always remember that you are strong, you are beautiful, and you are a success. Making it to my 50s is a huge success, and making it here and being able to do the work I do is more successful than the people who told me I wouldn’t amount to anything.
Monika: You’re incredibly honest about your suicide attempt and the darkness that followed. In those moments when hope felt completely out of reach, what helped you hold on, even if it was something small or imperfect?
Jodi: I really have to think about this question. I have spent a lifetime coming up with quick and convenient answers to questions so I didn’t have to really examine what was going on. My first attempt was before I knew it was okay to reach out for help. I grew up with the idea that reaching out for help was weak and shameful. Mental health was something personal that wasn’t talked about. It is easy to say that the thought of my son or my young niece kept me from completing suicide. Those thoughts did cross my mind; I didn’t want them scarred for life.
I think if I really dig below the surface, though, it was, oddly enough, my lack of self-esteem. At the time, I would rather live with unbearable pain myself than possibly cause others pain. In my eyes, the only thing that mattered was everyone else, not me. I cringe now when I hear people claim that suicide is selfish. It is no more selfish than seeking relief from a doctor for a physical ailment.
Monika: Your experiences with abuse, poverty, and mental health struggles run quietly but powerfully through the book. Was there a point where you realized carrying all of that alone just wasn’t possible anymore, that something had to change for you to stay alive?
Jodi: I started therapy in Vancouver. I slowly began to trust the process but still thought of mental health as something best not talked about. Stigma around mental health is really strong. The first time I went to the hospital, it was my therapist who took me. That opened up a whole new world for me.
My family doctor is a remarkable human. She was a huge support after she saw the report from the hospital. She showed me that it is okay to ask for help. She wasn’t mad at me and didn’t treat it as something shameful. She showed incredible compassion and connected me with other organizations where I could talk to professionals and peers. She was always there through the attempts and hospitalizations. I honestly owe my life to her. I talk about my experiences now to try to change the stigma and show that it is okay to talk about these things.
Monika: Choosing a name is such a deeply personal decision, one that can hold layers of significance and meaning. How did you come to choose the name Jodi? Does it carry a special resonance for you, perhaps representing a part of your journey or embodying a particular feeling or aspiration?
Jodi: In high school, there was a female athlete named Jodi. She was the closest thing I knew to a trans person. I never knew if she was actually trans or not, but it didn’t matter. She was herself and not afraid to be. She had many traits that would be considered masculine, and she never tried to hide them. I admired that and admired the way she could dance around gender. I don't think it was ever on purpose; she just wasn’t afraid to be who she was. She will never know how much that influenced me. I was never close to her and haven’t seen or heard from her since graduation.
When I was choosing a name, I tried a couple but kept coming back to Jodi. My middle name, Mae, was my grandmother’s first name. Another strong matriarch that is such a role model for me.
Monika: When you came out, did your mother embrace you as her daughter? And do you feel any connection to her in the way you look, carry yourself, or even in your style and mannerisms?
Jodi: Sadly, neither of my parents has ever known me as Jodi. Before I ever thought about transition, I realized my relationship with them was detrimental to my mental health. They somehow believed my ex and thought it was my fault I didn’t see my son. They wouldn’t talk to me about it and wouldn’t even let me tell my grandmother. I had never lied to her before but did about my son because my parents wanted me to. After grandma passed away, I could not think of any reason to maintain contact with my family. My older sister had cut off contact years before, and I followed suit.
In my mind, mom would have agreed with whatever my dad said. I could see dad saying something along the lines of “I would rather have a dead son than a living daughter.” It is probably best they never knew. I do see mom in my face sometimes. I don’t think there is much of her in my mannerisms. I think mom had wanted to travel and see more since she was young. Maybe my sense of adventure came from her.
Monika: Do you remember the first time you met a transgender woman in person? What was that experience like, and how did it make you feel?
Jodi: The instance that really stands out in my mind was the first drag queen I knew. I hope everyone is aware that drag queens and trans women are different. She stands out because she is the first person who played with gender that I knew personally. In the town I grew up in, there was one gay nightclub. I was home on leave from the Navy for two weeks and met her at this nightclub. We ended up hooking up and hanging out for almost the entire time I was home.
It was such a great time; she knew everyone in the scene and we went to some great parties. We were out most nights until sunrise. She dressed me up once; it was the first time I had worn women’s clothes, makeup, and a wig. I learned a lot in those two weeks, good and bad. She shared some homophobic experiences she had been through as well as the fun times.
Another funny thing happened at that club during those two weeks. I was there one night, and she was performing. I was going outside to smoke, and at the door, I saw a friend I had worked with at Boy Scout camp. We were both shocked to see each other in a gay club but quickly recovered and had a good laugh. I wonder how many of my friends were hiding themselves.
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| "Everyone’s journey is different, but you aren’t alone." |
Monika: Many of us feel the pressure to “pass” as women, and even after surgeries, society keeps judging us. How do you personally deal with the outside world’s expectations?
Jodi: I used to worry a lot about that. I would try as hard as I could to “pass.”
One day, when I was worrying about it and trying to think of solutions, it occurred to me that I have spent most of my life trying to fit others’ expectations. One of the reasons for transitioning was to be myself and not what I was “supposed” to be. It didn’t make sense to transition and then jump right back into trying to fit in a box for everyone else. It might be a different box, but it was the same old pattern I was trying to escape.
After that, I started asking, “What makes me feel good?” instead of “What would make me more acceptable to society?” It isn’t as easy as it sounds, but it does get easier over time. I have faced transphobia because I stand out sometimes, too. It has all been worth it to me because I can go home knowing I am true to myself.
Monika: What are your thoughts on the current situation for transgender women in your country?
Jodi: It is better in Canada than in the country to the south of us. I have noticed that some people here are feeling more empowered to show their transphobia because of what is happening in the US. I saw a statistic somewhere that hate crimes against trans people in Canada went up during Trump’s first presidency.
It seems like a lot of Canadians, particularly Vancouverites, rest on the fact that transphobia isn’t as bad here as it is in the States. That is really not much of a ruler to measure by. People can get complacent about improving because we are better. We may not be perfect or even great, but as long as we are better, it is okay. We need more allies to stand up and demand more than complacency.
Monika: I remember the time right after my transition, it was pure euphoria. My closet is still full of dresses and shoes that I literally bought by the dozens back then, and I must have tried on hundreds. I felt like I had to make up for all those years that were taken from me. Did you feel the same way?
Jodi: YES!!!! It was like being let loose in a candy store after staring in the window for decades. I didn’t know what to try first: clothes, makeup, or shoes. Especially shoes, lol. Dresses, skirts, and always color. Suddenly, my clothes didn’t have to be beige, blue, black, or grey. I could play with colors. Earrings and jewelry have always been fun, too. It just opened up a whole new world.
Monika: How would you describe your personal style? Do you follow any specific fashion trends, or do you have go-to outfits that make you feel confident?
Jodi: When I first transitioned, I tried so hard to not stand out. I felt like I stood out enough without wearing clothes that made me stand out more. Now, I wear what I want. I live and work in what is referred to as the poorest postal code in Canada. Mostly around the neighborhood, I wear very casual clothes: cargo pants and a sweatshirt or hoodie.
For work, I add Blundstone boots. It’s my uniform, I guess. I have more colorful shoes for after work and weekends. Some of my sweatshirts are pretty colorful, too. I don’t mind standing out and like to wear something that looks a little different than what most people wear.
When I transitioned, my hair had receded too much to salvage it. I had to wear wigs. I embrace that now and change colors quite often. Right now it’s green. On the book cover, it is pinkish. Who knows what spring will bring. It is so much fun trying different ones out. My glasses, too, colorful and fun shapes. I have butterfly glasses in multiple colors right now. I guess my style would be “comfortable fun” if I had to label it.
Monika: By the way, do you like being complimented on your looks? Do you find it easy to accept compliments, or do you struggle with believing them?
Jodi: I struggle with compliments. I have always had body issues. I am trying to learn to accept my body, but it is an ongoing struggle. I have done a couple of sexy photo shoots. It felt liberating and helped me look at my body as something sexy, but there are plenty of times that it is hard for me to believe anyone would find me attractive. Isn’t it funny that I can see something attractive in everyone else except myself? I am more than likely not alone in this. For anyone reading this, you can still compliment me if you want (smiles).
Monika: Did you ever feel pressure to meet a certain ideal of femininity, like I did by trying to look like the women around me?
Jodi: Yes, I felt the same pressure. I think that pressure came from within myself more than anywhere else. I had this preconceived notion of what feminine looks like and wanted to meet that. It is amazing what we absorb from media and people around us without realizing it.
When I started examining my own internal bias, I realized how much I was expecting of myself and how much joy that was taking away from me. Cis women come in all shapes, sizes, and styles. There isn’t one definition of feminine. Cis women no doubt feel pressure to look a certain way, but I think it is different for trans women.
END OF PART 1
All photos: courtesy of Jodi Gray.
The last photo: Courage to Come Back Awards.
© 2025 - Monika Kowalska
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