Lilit Martirosyan is not simply someone who became an activist; she is someone who, very early in life, discovered
that survival itself could become a political act. She has spoken about knowing she was a girl from childhood, about
leaving her village at 13 after discrimination made home feel unsafe, and about eventually finding her way into
Armenia’s civil-society movement. She later founded Right Side, the country’s first community-based organization
created by and for transgender people and sex workers. Then, on April 5, 2019, she walked into Armenia’s National
Assembly and did something no transgender person in the country had done before: she stood at the parliamentary
podium and described, in brutally direct terms, what life could mean for a transgender Armenian. She deliberately
presented herself not merely as Lilit, but as a collective figure carrying the experiences of people who had been
assaulted, impoverished, excluded and left without protection. The speech made history and triggered an
extraordinary backlash, including threats against her life.
What followed is revealing about the particular kind of activist Martirosyan became. She did not leave Armenia
permanently, despite having to flee temporarily with her family after the threats. She returned because, as she
explained, she did not want to become a refugee elsewhere while the people she represented remained in Armenia. Her
activism has therefore been remarkably practical: changing the procedure for legal name changes, building community
structures, fighting discrimination and hate crimes, and creating spaces where people could receive legal,
psychological and social support. In 2020, the Dutch government awarded her the Human Rights Tulip, recognizing both
her persistence in the face of death threats and her commitment to peaceful change. The prize was not merely
symbolic: it gave her the means to expand the infrastructure of the movement she had spent years building.
There is also a less public dimension to her story. Martirosyan has spoken about sex work as something she entered
after leaving home because she could not find other work, and about the enormous distance between the ideals of
human rights and the basic economic realities confronting a transgender woman trying to survive. She has described
her relationship with her family as one of her greatest personal achievements, an unusually intimate answer from
someone so often portrayed through the monumental image of the woman at the parliamentary podium. She has spent
years insisting that the struggle is not abstract: it is about whether someone can have a passport that reflects who
they are, find a doctor who understands their body, call the police and be protected rather than humiliated, earn a
living without being forced into the margins, and simply remain alive. And perhaps that is what makes her story so
compelling: behind the historic speech, the awards and the activism is a woman who has repeatedly had to decide
whether to retreat from danger or walk directly back into it. These questions begin there.
Monika: Lilit, it is such a privilege to have you here. I’m genuinely humbled and excited to be speaking with a
sister and a true legend from Armenia. Before we talk about activism, courage and everything you have fought for,
I simply want to say: welcome. How are you, and how does it feel to be here with me today?
Lilit: Hi Monika, thank you so much for having me and for giving me the opportunity to share my thoughts and
experiences. I honestly don’t see myself as a legend. I’m just a person with a mission. My mission has always been
to help and support people, to stand with those who need it, and to do whatever I can to make their lives a little
better. I’m very happy to be here and to have this conversation with you.
Monika: I’ve never been to Armenia, but I’d love to one day. If I had the chance to visit your country, what would
you tell me I absolutely must see, and what Armenian food or drink would you insist I try?
Lilit: I would be very happy to welcome you to Armenia. If you had asked me this question six or seven years ago, I
probably would have told you, “I can’t invite you here because it may not be safe for you.” But today I can say
that, through my work and the efforts of many other trans people and activists, we have managed to make our country
a little safer for our community. There is still a lot of work to do, of course, but things have changed.
I feel deeply connected to Armenia. Even when I travel abroad for work, I find myself counting the days until I can
come back home. I love the air, the water, the weather, and the food. There is something about Armenia that I simply
miss when I’m away.
And when it comes to food, I love almost everything in Armenian cuisine, but my absolute favorite is Armenian dolma.
So if you come to Armenia, I would definitely insist that you try dolma!
Monika: I promise I will! I have to tell you, I once saw a whole Armenian dance group performing in their
traditional costumes, and I absolutely fell in love with the taraz, the traditional Armenian dress. I think it’s
incredibly beautiful. Do you ever wear a taraz yourself?
Lilit: To be honest, I have never worn a traditional Armenian taraz, but I definitely want to wear one someday. I
find Armenian taraz incredibly beautiful and unique. The colors, patterns, and details are so special, and they
carry so much of our culture and history. I hope I’ll have the opportunity to wear one in the future.
Monika: Switching to your activism, you have described your mission as helping people live safely and have a good
life. Was there a particular person you met early in your activism who made you realize that this had to become
your life’s work?
Lilit: When I was just beginning my journey as an activist, there wasn’t one particular person I met who made me
choose this path. What really inspired me was the film Milk, about Harvey Milk. His story gave me a lot of
motivation and helped me understand how important it is to stand up, speak out, and fight for change. But if I have to say what gives me the strength to keep going in my own life, it is God. I believe that God helps me
to continue fighting, to stay strong, and not to give up, even during the most difficult moments.
Monika: What was it about his story that spoke to you specifically as an
Armenian transgender woman living in a very different political and cultural environment?
Lilit: What inspired me most about Harvey Milk was the way he fought to make LGBTQ issues visible and impossible to
ignore. Through protests, public speaking, political participation, and simply refusing to remain silent, he helped
bring the voices and struggles of LGBTQ people into public and political conversations.
Of course, Armenia is very different from the United States, culturally and politically, and I understood that I
could not simply copy someone else’s path. But his story taught me something universal: if we remain invisible and
silent, other people will continue speaking for us and making decisions about our lives without us. As a
transgender woman in Armenia, that was very powerful for me. I understood that our community needed to speak for
itself, to be visible, to demand its rights, and to make society hear about the realities we face. Harvey Milk’s
story gave me courage and showed me that even one person who decides to speak publicly can help open the door for
many others.
Monika: When you founded Right Side in 2016, did you already know what kind of organization you wanted to build,
or did the needs of the community teach you what it had to become?
Lilit: I have always listened closely to the needs of the community because I am a trans woman myself. I know these
realities not only as an activist, but because I have lived through them.
I went through hell myself, discrimination, hatred, stigma, rejection, and the feeling of not being accepted by
society. I knew what it meant to need support and not always have a safe place to turn to.
At that time, there were already LGBTQI+ organizations in Armenia doing important work, but I understood that we
also needed an organization specifically created for transgender people, a safe space where trans people could feel
accepted, receive services designed around their actual needs, find support, and speak openly without fear of
judgment. That is why I founded Right Side in 2016. The idea was very simple but very important to me: an organization created
by the trans community, for the trans community. And since then, I have continued listening to the community,
because their needs are what shape our work.
Monika: You have spoken unusually openly about sex work. Why was it important to you not to erase that part of
your biography when you became a prominent human-rights activist?
Lilit: I have never wanted to erase that part of my life, because it is part of my story, and I am not ashamed of
it. Sex work does not define who I am, but the circumstances that led me to it say a lot about the realities many
transgender women face. For me, sex work was connected to survival. When you are rejected, discriminated against, and denied opportunities
simply because you are transgender, your choices can become extremely limited. People often judge sex workers
without asking what brought them there, what barriers they faced, or what other options society actually gave them.
Monika: And what did that experience teach you?
Lilit: When I became a human rights activist, I felt it would be dishonest to hide this part of my biography just to
make myself more acceptable to others. If I had erased it, I would also have been distancing myself from many people
in my own community whose experiences are similar to mine. I speak openly about it because sex workers deserve the same dignity, safety, rights, and respect as everyone else.
My past allows me to understand these realities from lived experience, not only from reports or statistics. And I
want other trans women and sex workers to know that their past or present circumstances should never make them feel
that they are less worthy, less capable, or less deserving of a future.
Monika: Your work helped change Armenia’s procedure for changing names in passports. Do you remember the first
person who came to you after successfully obtaining documents that reflected their identity? What did that moment
mean to you?
Lilit: Actually, the first person I think of is myself. In 2014–2015, I was the first transgender woman to go to
Armenia’s Ministry of Justice and insist that I should be able to change my name in my identity documents. At the
time, I was told that it was impossible for me to have a female name. I refused to accept that answer. I fought for
months and went through an extremely difficult and exhausting bureaucratic process, but eventually I succeeded in
changing my name.
Monika: And did that personal battle become the starting point for changing the system itself, so that others
would not have to go through what you went through?
Lilit: Absolutely. My personal experience made me realize that no other transgender person should have to go through
the same humiliating and complicated process just to have a name that reflects who they are. In 2018, Right Side,
through cooperation and dialogue with the Ministry of Justice, succeeded in changing the existing name-change
practice and making the procedure much simpler and more accessible for transgender people. For me, that was incredibly meaningful because my personal struggle had turned into systemic change. It was no
longer only about my documents or my name. It meant that the people who came after me would not have to fight the
same battle for months. That is one of the reasons I believe activism matters: sometimes you go through a very
difficult door first so that it becomes easier for others to walk through it after you.
Monika: In 2019, you walked into the National Assembly and became the first transgender person to speak there.
What were you feeling in the few seconds before you began speaking? Did you understand, while you were standing at
that podium, that you were doing something that might become a defining image in Armenian history?
Lilit: When I walked toward that podium, I was shaking. But once I started speaking, I became calmer because I knew
exactly why I was there. My only goal was to use that platform to say: we exist, we face discrimination, and you need to listen to us. Our
lives, our safety, and our problems matter. We need laws that protect us, and transgender people must be heard when
decisions affecting our lives are being made.
END OF PART 1
All photos: courtesy of Lilit Martirosyan.
© 2026 - Monika Kowalska
No comments:
Post a Comment