Sheryl Weikal’s memoir I Was an Abomination: A Story of Trans Survival in Conservative America arrives at a moment when public debate about the very existence of transgender children is louder than ever. For years, figures like J.K. Rowling and Elon Musk have insisted that trans identities in children are the result of external influence, that young people are not capable of knowing who they truly are, and that transition is always prompted by adults.
Sheryl Weikal’s life story dismantles that narrative with unflinching honesty. Raised in a deeply conservative homeschooling family, she knew from her earliest memories that she was a girl. At eight years old, she even crafted a doll that represented herself in her true gender, a gesture both innocent and profound, one that expressed what words could not yet carry. Her memoir reveals how even the strictest isolation from progressive ideas could not erase her own sense of self.
The book is not only a personal journey but also a reflection on resilience in the face of systemic hostility. Weikal endured conversion therapy as a child, subjected to the false promise that her identity could be erased or rewritten. Instead of erasing her, the experience hardened her determination to live authentically. The memoir traces her transition from a trans child stripped of support into a trans adult who learned to fight back with both vulnerability and strength. The path was not easy. Weikal confronted rejection not only from her family but also from institutions that attempted to keep her from practicing law, forcing her into a protracted legal fight for her right to stand as an attorney. Against that backdrop of struggle, the book shows how she built a career dedicated to justice and found love that affirmed her worth.
Weikal’s story resonates not only because of its individual triumphs but because it speaks directly to the political climate of the United States. In a time when lawmakers attempt to restrict access to gender-affirming care and erase trans people from public life, her narrative offers both a warning and a reminder. As journalist Frankie de la Cretaz observes in their review, the memoir becomes both a cautionary tale about the harm of intolerance and a balm that demonstrates survival is possible. The prose is direct, often searing, and consistently infused with a sense of moral clarity that emerges from years of lived experience.
The power of I Was an Abomination lies in its refusal to reduce trans existence to a political talking point. It re-centers the conversation around lived truth. Sheryl Weikal was not influenced into being transgender by peers, teachers, or media. She was a trans child growing up in isolation under the watchful eye of conservative parents, and she still knew who she was. That reality alone challenges the dominant myths used to attack trans children and the adults who support them. Her adulthood brings further proof. She not only survived but built a life defined by love, professional achievement, and advocacy, showing that affirming trans lives produces thriving individuals rather than broken ones.
The book is as much about justice as it is about identity. Today, Weikal runs a pay-what-you-can litigation practice in Illinois, focusing on landlord-tenant disputes, criminal defense, eviction defense, and foreclosure defense. She made history by bringing the 2022 lawsuit that rendered it unlawful for Illinois attorneys and judges to discriminate based on gender identity. She also became the first openly transgender attorney to argue before the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals. Her work has brought her voice to national platforms including ESPN Radio, The Young Turks, Vox, and Fangraphs. The memoir situates these achievements not as isolated milestones but as part of the continuum of her fight for dignity and fairness, for herself and for others.
I Was an Abomination ultimately offers more than a recounting of pain and hardship. It is also a testament to possibility, to what can happen when a person claims the right to define themselves against every force that tries to silence them. It speaks to trans children who are growing up today under the shadow of political hostility, showing them that survival is possible, that they are not alone, and that the world can change. It challenges allies and readers who are outside the trans community to listen, learn, and act with compassion. And it insists that justice, in the truest sense, requires both courage and empathy. Sheryl Weikal’s memoir is not only a story of survival but a guide for anyone who believes that equality must remain at the heart of society.
Available via Amazon
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