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Isaac Ranson always knew he was different.

From a young age, the redshirt senior goalkeeper for Cal State Fullerton women’s soccer didn’t feel like he fit in with the rest of the girls or aligned with societal expectations of being a girl.

But, at the time, there wasn’t the language and understanding of what he was feeling. 

“I was in denial about my identity,” Ranson said. “I questioned myself time and time again, but had a hard time accepting that I am queer.”

Ranson’s journey of self-discovery and acceptance is one of courage, empowerment, and the power of creating a safe and inclusive environment in college athletics.

 

Between grades one and eight, Ranson went to a Christian school and didn’t explicitly remember being told that being queer was wrong. But he did remember his classmates using queer terms as insults, which made him feel different.

In middle school, Ranson had a family member come out as queer, which was the first time he became aware of queer people in a personal way. It opened his mind to the possibility of queerness, but he still didn’t fully understand it.

“It was an option, at least,” Ranson said.

When Ranson got to high school, there were a couple of queer kids who were out. They were still pretty quiet about it, but it made him realize it was OK to like who you like.

It wasn’t a bad thing to be authentic.

However, during high school, Ranson was still in denial about his identity.

 

When Ranson got to college, he encountered more out and proud queer people, who gave him the confidence to build who he was as a person. 

It was at this time that Ranson finally accepted he was queer, but something still felt off.

“I wasn’t truly living who I was inside,” Ranson said. “In my second year of college, I began really thinking about my gender, and I was still in denial a lot. But, around that time, I started hearing more terms and more representation of transgender and non-binary people.”

Ranson found himself relating to their stories more.

At the end of his second year, he began dressing more masculine, which made him feel more like himself and more confident.

“That summer of 2023 is when I decided to cut my hair short, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made,” Ranson said. “When I turned and looked in the mirror, I literally cried tears of happiness. The reflection I saw was the person I had felt like on the inside.”

After getting his haircut, Ranson bought his first binder, a piece of clothing that flattens your chest to make you look more masculine, which made him feel more like himself.

“With my haircut and binder, I just felt so confident and powerful,” Ranson said. “It was very affirming for me and my identity.”

 

Ranson then opened up to a new friend he trusted and asked them to refer to him as Isaac and to use he/him pronouns. But he kept it private just to test it out and see how he liked it.

And it felt right.

That Thanksgiving, Ranson opened up to his parents about questioning his gender identity. He told them he was non-binary at the time and to use they/them pronouns. He also told them he was experimenting with the name Isaac, but he wasn’t sure.

Even though he was.

Ranson wasn’t accepting himself fully at the time.

“They were supportive about it,” Ranson said. “They struggled with it a little bit at first, but later on understood where I came from.”

The next spring of 2024, Ranson still only had a couple of friends who referred to him as Isaac and used he/him pronouns. But after that spring, he wore binders daily, and without it, he was very insecure.

During the summer, Ranson started passing as male to strangers, which was the most affirming thing for him, but he still hadn’t come out to the people closest to him that he interacted with daily.

Being misgendered and dead-named by them was heartbreaking.

Once Ranson returned to soccer last season, things got tough. He was constantly being misgendered and dead-named, being referred to as a lady or woman.

“I dreaded showing up to practices and games,” Ranson said. “Most days after soccer training and games, I cried from just being so exhausted emotionally. Every misgender felt like a stab to the heart, and it just made it hard to focus on the sport I love playing.”

Ranson realized he couldn’t keep going like this. It was such a negative burden to his life.

So, he came out to his team.

“I was met with so much support,” Ranson said. “My coaches made a clear effort to use inclusive language and create a space where I felt safe, comfortable, and respected. When I came out last year, I wasn’t fully confident in myself yet, but I was tired of hiding.”

Ranson is still on that journey of moving towards his most confident self, but finally being able to be Isaac to the people around him and to the world has been incredibly freeing.

For Ranson, hiding himself for so long and the internal struggle of figuring out who he is weighed heavily.

Accepting the truth and finding the courage to share it with the world was scary, especially in today’s world.

“I worried about how the people I loved would react,” Ranson said. “But I’ve been very lucky in having their support through it all. Over this past year, being able to be my true self has allowed me to receive more love, support, and happiness than I could have ever imagined. I’m no longer afraid of what others might think or say because I know who I am, and I’m confident in that.”

Ranson’s parents have been especially encouraging of him to be his true self. They never boxed him into a traditional gender norm or made him feel like he had to be someone he wasn’t. They’ve shown him so much love and support through every stage of his life.

“When I came out as trans to them, the first thing my dad told me was, ‘I love you, son, no matter what,’” Ranson said. “I just broke down in tears when he told me that. I felt so seen and understood by my parents, and it just made me feel so close to them.”

The next day, Ranson’s parents dove into learning everything they could about transgender people. They started reading books, listening to podcasts and reading anything they could to better understand and support him.

“I’m so proud to have them as my parents, and I feel how proud they are of me and how proud they are to have me as their son,” Ranson said.

 

Being in a soccer and team environment gave Ranson a reason to come out sooner than he was maybe ready for. He hadn’t fully accepted himself, but he knew he couldn’t keep hiding.

But once he did come out, it gave him the courage to stop being afraid of who he is because he was around a group of people that supported him, no matter what.

“I remember thinking that if the people around me can accept me and love me, then I can finally accept myself and love myself and just live as Isaac,” Ranson said.

Before this current soccer season started, Ranson asked his coaches if they could let the commentators and media know that he wanted to be addressed as Isaac and that his pronouns are he/him.

He wanted everyone to know that.

And, on opening day, Ranson wasn’t sure what to expect. He didn’t know if they were going to say just Ranson like they did last year or if they were going to use Isaac Ranson like he wanted them to.

To his surprise, he heard Isaac, and it echoed through the stadium in front of everyone.

“I was overwhelmed with happiness,” Ranson said. “I had the biggest smile, and I just felt so seen and empowered, and I was just so ready to do my thing on the field. I felt truly seen in that moment. I felt confident and proud and like I finally belonged. That moment gave me the strength to stand tall as who I am and not be afraid of what people might think or say.”

Ranson is proud to stand as a visible voice for other athletes who might be questioning their identity or struggling with their identity, as he once was.

He knows there isn’t enough LGBTQ+ representation out there, and sports aren’t the most inclusive space for queer individuals, especially for trans people.

Right now, trans individuals are facing a lot of hate in sports and in the media and Ranson wants to help change that.

“I want to make sports a safe and welcoming space for everyone, no matter their background or identity,” Ranson said. “I want people to be more aware that, hey, there are trans athletes, but we’re not bringing the sport down or being unfair about it. For those athletes that are struggling, I want them to know they’re not alone or feel like they’re a weirdo for being their authentic self.”

Ranson wants to be someone others can relate to. Someone who reminds them they’re not alone and that even when it feels like the world is against them, there’s still love and support out there.

“It’s scary to be queer, and it’s scary to be open about it,” Ranson said. “But that support is super important to queer individuals because it makes them feel seen and loved and heard.”