Meet Frank.

When I began transitioning at 30, I hoped I would finally be happy. I was sober, but I was still incredibly depressed, and I couldn’t understand why sobriety hadn’t taken that sadness away.

My self-esteem was low. I wanted to feel confident and comfortable in my body. At that point, I couldn’t see how I would keep living if I didn’t transition. Taking that step felt necessary to give myself a future.

What I learned was that I still had other work to do. My trauma needed attention. My mental illness needed care. The experiences that had shaped how I saw myself didn’t disappear as my body changed.

That understanding influences how I approach FTM. I want to talk honestly about transition alongside the other things people may be navigating. Feeling more comfortable in your identity can be deeply important, and you still deserve support with everything else you’re carrying.

While I was homeless in Colorado, I reached back out to Stefany, a friend I’d met in the Navy when I was 18. We’d stayed friends over the years, and I wanted someone to vent to. I was exhausted from waking up sick and spending so much of my time securing drugs.

She wanted to help. I was hesitant at first, but I eventually accepted her offer from a hospital bed, where I was recovering from acute kidney failure and dehydration.

Stefany helped me arrange a sitter for Blade and Gus, find a local detox, and organize transportation. Then she bought me a plane ticket to Ohio, along with four bags for everything I owned.

She welcomed me into her apartment and helped me begin putting my life back together. At 107 pounds, I was very underweight. Sobriety, mental health recovery, nutrition, and getting organized became the work in front of me. A month later, we flew back to Colorado together to bring the dogs home.

I carry that experience into FTM. I know how much can stand between needing help and being able to accept it. The details matter: transportation, somewhere to stay, care for your animals, and someone willing to help you work through the next step. Those are the kinds of practical needs I want this site to take seriously.

The Power Bank Project grew from a problem I could help address through my business: people experiencing homelessness often have limited access to safe, reliable places to charge their devices.

A charged phone can help someone stay in contact with loved ones, arrange transportation, manage appointments, and reach services. Flashlights and headlamps need charging, too. Access to electricity is something many people can take for granted until they’re trying to get through a day without it.

Through Dynamic Power Supply, I started the Power Bank Project to provide free power banks to people experiencing homelessness or financial hardship. We mail them to recipients across the United States and distribute them locally around greater Cincinnati. Ten percent of DPS’s monthly profit helps fund the work.

Having needed substantial help myself makes this project personal. I know the difference a practical act of support can make. PBP gives me a way to contribute something concrete, using the business I’ve built and the resources available to me.

That same desire to be useful runs through FTM: helping someone find a resource, make a connection, or take their next step.