The Splinter In The Log: A Reflection On Being Transgender

[Note: Today’s guest blogger is Declan DeWitt Hall. Declan DeWitt Hall (he/him) is an ordained Stephen Minister, speaker, and online community builder who helps organizations deepen their impact. As co-creator of the Where True Love Is movement, Declan focuses on social justice, inclusion, and belonging. He is dedicated to creating spaces where all people are welcomed, valued, and empowered to thrive. Declan is a proud husband, father, and grandfather. He also happens to be transgender. This post is part of our Pride month series. Thank you Declan!]

Imagine a log floating down a river.

From a distance, it looks whole, solid, and complete. Everyone who sees it agrees: “That’s a log.” It appears simple and obvious. But hidden deep inside is a splinter—a small piece of wood that doesn’t quite fit where it is. Most people never notice it. Some would insist it doesn’t exist at all.

Yet the splinter knows.

It feels the pressure every day. It rubs against the grain of the log. It catches on things. It creates tension that no one outside can see. The log continues drifting downstream while the splinter struggles with a constant awareness that something is wrong.

For many transgender people, this analogy may feel familiar.

From the outside, others may look at a person and decide who they are based on appearance, assumptions, or expectations. To everyone else, the answer seems obvious. But identity is not something that exists only on the surface. Deep inside, there is an understanding of oneself that can be impossible to ignore.

Being transgender is often described as a journey of discovery, but it can also be a process of alignment. It is recognizing that the internal reality and the external presentation have been working against each other, creating friction much like the splinter against the grain.

Some people ask why a transgender person cannot simply accept the role assigned to them at birth. The analogy offers one answer: because awareness changes everything. Once the splinter knows it is trapped in the wrong place, pretending otherwise does not remove the discomfort. Ignoring it does not make it disappear. In fact, denial often increases the strain.

Transition, whether social, medical, or personal, can be thought of as carefully freeing the splinter and allowing it to settle where it naturally belongs. This process is not always easy. Wood resists change. Rivers are unpredictable. There may be people on the riverbank shouting that the log was fine as it was.

But the goal is not to satisfy the observers on the shore.

The goal is to reduce the friction that has existed for so long inside one self.

Every transgender person’s experience is different. Some feel intense distress. Others feel a quiet but persistent sense that something is out of place. Some transition early in life, while others do not find the words to describe themselves until much later. Yet many share the experience of moving toward greater authenticity and comfort within themselves.

No analogy can capture the full reality of being transgender, but the splinter helps illustrate the friction between internal truth and external expectation. Transgender people are not broken pieces that need fixing. Rather, the image highlights the tension between external assumptions and internal reality. It illustrates how something unseen by others can still be profoundly real to the person experiencing it.

What matters most is not how the log appears from a distance. What matters is understanding the experience within it.

Sometimes the strongest truths are the ones hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. And when those truths are finally recognized, the result is not transformation into someone new, but the freedom to become more fully oneself.