“I think it hit me really hard; in 2019 and early-2020; I would perform every weekend and as much as I could; I was existing in that world,” Danger explains. “When the world shut down, it kind of messed with my head.”
As a drag-lesque performer, Danger was a fully-realized, nonbinary, masculine artist with a lush beard, smokey eye, and a punk-rock-meets-country-western esteem. Flirtatious, confident, and sensual, the grandiosity matched the personality. Unbecoming Danger for the foreseeable future, his life became isolation and quarantine, It also became introspection. 
“I’ve always, in the back of my mind, there’s always been some gender dysphoria, but I hadn’t really paid too much mind to it because, at least a couple days a week, I got to put Brody out in the world. Through that whole experience, I realized that I really did want to live more as Brody,” they say.
Having never made the realization that they were not living authentically until their ability to express through performance was taken away, finding their way to their true gender identity was an unexpected journey. Learning that becoming Danger was not only a pastime or a hobby, but truly a reflection of who they are inside, they were more comfortable inside themselves being the expression of a character than a subtle version of themselves. Bringing to light everything that had been unexamined brought to the surface feelings of hesitation, fear, excitement, and hesitation inside Danger, but ultimately, they were willing to do the work.
“It’s always scary to look that deeply inward, but I’m very grateful for when, I feel like [during] a time that we were so isolated from one another, I was absolutely overwhelmed by the support and the love that I got when I announced what I was doing. It was amazing to be reminded that we’re not alone, in a time when we all felt so disconnected,” Danger explains.
The announcement Danger made was that they were getting top surgery, a procedure which they had done in late-2020. This was reminiscent of a similar experience that Danger had in the past which reinforced the idea that this was the next right move.
“I had a reduction because I’ve always hated my chest, and so, when I was younger, I just thought it was that I wanted them smaller. I was never happy after that happened, and in the past couple years, I realized that it’s because I wanted them gone,” Danger says. And it was that distinction that made proceeding with a second surgery, from both a logistical and emotional state, easier to approach.
However, the knowledge that they were coming more into themselves with top surgery did not dispel all the fear and uncertainty entirely. Danger was very comfortable being nonbinary, binding their chest and wearing makeup, but was this going to provide the ease in an accurate perception from others? They say yes, and no.
“My friends and my family do, but to the general public, I get misgendered all the time. They take one look at eye makeup and hips, and it doesn’t matter how flat-chested I am. That stuff just gets to you after a while, and it’s hard when you feel like you’re presenting 100 percent how you want to and someone with one, ‘Hey ladies,’ can take you down,” they say.
It isn’t just about folks coming into their own gender identity, but also the societal adjustment to changing perception of sex and gender that really has a lasting and empowering impact to those, like Danger, who are nonbinary and gender-diverse. While Danger has freed themself of the daily discomfort of being in their own skin with the relief of top surgery, the burden still lays on them to advocate for themselves on a daily basis.
“Some days, I just want to go out, and I just want to exist, and I don’t want to fight. Sometimes, you just want to get a drink with your partner and not have it be a lesson for someone or be the elephant in the room when the server misgenders you,” Danger says. “I’m definitely more aware when I’m in a queer space or a space of people that are queer; it’s always the easy stuff where you get a, ‘Hey, y’all,’ or, ‘Hey, folks,’ as opposed to, ‘Welcome, ladies.’”
While we continue to educate others, and ourselves, around empowering language that is void of microaggressions when it comes to gender expression and identity, Danger eagerly demonstrates what it looks like to stand in one’s own authentic and unapologetic self. This is where the collaboration between Danger and photographer Nikki Rae collided, as Danger was a couple months post-op, and Rae was excited to celebrate their strength and courage.
Danger was approached by Rae with the idea of creating art around the celebration of coming into their body, while leaning into the comfort of performance, and they produced a set of images that truly represent who Danger knows they have always been deep down.
“It was amazing, and I think I’m still in awe when I look at those that look at those photos; she did such an incredible job of showing confidence in me. I feel like it’s the first time I can look at a photo and be like, ‘Oh hell yeah, like, that is me,’ and that’s an amazing feeling,” they say. “Sometimes, it’s hard to see who we are when we are looking at ourselves in the mirror, and it takes those other people to kind of reflect it back to us so we’re finally able to see.
“I think we get so caught up in thinking that other people only can see these parts of us, like, I only thought people could see my chest or that only people can only see that I was born female, and in reality, it’s like, no, people see me; Nikki sees me through her camera; my partner sees me, which ultimately has been how I’ve been wanting to be seen, but unable to see,” Danger says. 
