12 trans women win the right to play volleyball: The story of Jessica Hernández and her battle against the Mexican Federation

“My beauty salon is called ‘Thalía’ because, to me, Thalía is WOW—she’s everything,” says Jessica Hernández, sitting on a couch inside her business located in Cuautitlán, State of Mexico. She’s wearing the volleyball team uniform of Jade, the team she has belonged to for 18 years, now made up of women between the ages of 40 and 50.

Photo by Alejando Peña

With a kind demeanor and a calm, mature expression—like someone who has truly learned from life’s lessons—Jessica shares part of her story with us.

In addition to being an athlete and professional stylist, she is also a trained nurse, though she does not currently practice. “When I was in high school, in the fifth semester, my mom said to me, ‘Daughter, I need to talk to you.’ She told me, ‘I had children so they could be happy, and I want you to be happy. If you want to finish college or get a master’s degree, we’ll pay for it—your dad and I will support you. But you have a legal identity that doesn’t match who you are, and when you go out to find a job, it’s going to be really hard for you,’” Jessica recalls. “We’re talking about many years ago, and she told me, ‘Drop out and go to a school where you can be who you want to be.’ And that gave me more freedom. Jessica is a proud Mexican trans woman whose story reflects resilience, family support, and a deep pursuit of authenticity.

Photo by Alejandro Peña

Jessica’s story is marked by resilience, honesty, and moments of unexpected support—even in the most complex circumstances. She recalls how even her first serious boyfriend in the 1990s gave her a hard but sincere piece of advice: “He told me, ‘I’m going to say something that might hurt, but women like you in this country, at this time, have two options: either be a stylist or a prostitute’—of course, without demeaning sex work at all. But he added, ‘To me, you’re a home girl, and you should study hairstyling.’ I didn’t like it at first, but I told myself, ‘Well, at least I’ll learn to do my own makeup,’ and it turned out to be really beautiful. Eventually, she pursued a nursing degree after becoming a stylist. “So I owe everything to hair—even getting to travel to another country. This place we’re sitting in right now has also been featured on Mexican TV; I’ve been on the news a couple of times, mostly because of volleyball. That’s helped me keep the sport going, because obviously, nothing’s free. In the end, we invest in it, and it’s very painful when they put up all these obstacles and tell you that you can’t play. I’m a woman like any other—with a healthy, stable, beautiful life—and I feel like many more opportunities are still ahead for me.”

Jessica has played volleyball since childhood—“It’s in my blood,” she says. She played in elementary and middle school without issues related to her gender identity, as teams at that age are typically mixed.

But when she entered high school, the inevitable conflict emerged: should she play on the boys’ team or the girls’ team? “I didn’t sign up because I knew they’d make me play with the boys,” she recalls. “But one day, the PE teacher saw me play and said, ‘Miss, why aren’t you registered on the team? You play really well.’ So I told him, ‘Because you’re going to make me play with the boys, and I don’t want to.’ He said, ‘No, you’re very mistaken,’ and took me to a bathroom with a huge mirror. He asked me, ‘What do you see in the mirror?’ I said, ‘I see our reflection,’ and he replied, ‘No, something deeper.’ I told him, ‘Well, I see a man and a woman.’ And he said, ‘Exactly. What you see is what you represent. So any problem that comes up, I’ll handle it—but I want you on my team.’” And that’s how Jessica began playing on the girls’ volleyball team—marking the beginning of her long journey in the sport she loves.

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

That conversation marked a turning point in her life. Without realizing it at the time, that teacher gave her the encouragement and support she needed to become a professional athlete. He didn’t see a boy in disguise, as the more conservative sectors of society insist on claiming with their hateful rhetoric; he saw a girl—someone who lives and feels like one, who isn’t pretending to be anything, but simply is.

From that moment on, she began participating in several school competitions. After graduating from high school, she was invited to join a league in the State of Mexico. “And I played the first season without any problems, because back then I was very androgynous, so it wasn’t an issue. But in the second season, unfortunately, a coach from another team who had known me for many years showed up and questioned why I was playing. He said I hadn’t been born a girl and that it wasn’t fair for me to be there. That’s when a whole series of problems began—so much discrimination—where you really need to find and hold onto your resilience. I began a long journey just to be able to play women’s volleyball at the national level in this country today.”

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

Jessica—who, by the way, decided to keep that name because it was what her schoolmates used to call her—began her transition process in middle school, when she started self-medicating.

“I would occasionally dress as a girl for school events, and I started letting my hair grow. After finishing middle school, I burned all my boys’ clothes and started living as a woman 24/7. I began hormone therapy sporadically, self-medicating, and then at 18 I started getting plastic surgeries. My first surgery was a nose job, then breast implants, and progressively other surgical procedures to complete my transition. There wasn’t the kind of openness or information that exists today—we didn’t know we could see an endocrinologist to get proper medical treatment. I’m talking about 30 years ago. Now there are specialized clinics, and they are legally required to provide hormone replacement therapy.”

While undergoing surgery, she put her athletic activities on hold, but never thought of giving them up. At some point, she officially saw an endocrinologist and began her treatment with full medical oversight.

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

Once her transition was complete, she resumed playing volleyball without pause—though not without setbacks. As is often the case in uninformed societies, she had to face the prejudice of those who insist on excluding trans women from any activity considered strictly “feminine.”

“There were people who’d say, ‘No, not her, because they’re stronger, because they have more reach, because they’ll always be men,’ and all that nonsense. But fortunately, I started playing volleyball in municipal and inter-state leagues, and I met a group of friends who have truly been angels in my life. They always included me, never made me feel different from them—even though they were all cisgender women, now professionals, mothers, businesswomen. That gave me the strength to keep going, because wherever we went, whenever someone said, ‘She’s trans,’ they defended and supported me.”

Jessica was able to grow as an athlete thanks to the deep bond she formed with these incredible friends. They protect her at all costs, and they make it clear that if anyone ever tries to keep her from playing due to discrimination, they’ll unite and take whatever action is necessary to demand justice: “Because she’s a woman—here and wherever she goes,” they say. “And back then, I didn’t even have my legal identity changed, because we’re talking about many years ago. In fact, I think I achieved this at a time when not even first-world countries had made something like this possible.”

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

“I started playing here in the State of Mexico. That’s where I met the girls in an inter-municipal league in Tlalnepantla, and from there they invited me to play in Mexico City. I’ve played for many years in the city and have played—well, they’re called ranchones—in many parts of the country: in Hidalgo, Puebla, Michoacán, Veracruz, Chiapas, Baja California, in many states, and also at the national tournaments I’ve attended, which are held every year.”

The Lawsuit Against the Mexican Volleyball Federation

Although in recent years Jessica and her teammates have achieved several sporting successes, on the other hand, they’ve had to turn to the courts to assert their rights.

“We hadn’t had any problems until 2023, when very serious acts of discrimination occurred—not just against trans women, but against women in general. There were some really awful and distressing situations, where officials or people from the Federation (Mexican Volleyball Federation – FMVB), we didn’t know exactly who, humiliated a trans girl, even removed her from the court, not even allowing her to be there. Some cis women were forced to show their C-section scars to prove they were cisgender women, and I mean, it’s awful to say, but at the end of the day, we’re used to always being singled out and that kind of thing. But when people say, ‘a trans woman playing gives her an advantage over the other women,’ it’s just not true, because we’re talking about a team sport—this is indoor volleyball, there are six players on the court, and you’d have to be a superhero to do everything yourself.”

Photo by Alejandro Peña

Recently, several trans women, including Jessica, made the decision to file a lawsuit against the FMVB (Mexican Volleyball Federation) over what happened in 2023, with the guidance and support of the LGBTQ+ organization Anade. “They connected us with some lawyers who have been angels. We filed a legal protection order (amparo) and we won. Right now, twelve trans women are protected by the amparo. But it’s also sad, because we live in a country where the laws are not respected. Because even last year, in their call for the national tournament in Monterrey, the FMVB included a statement that said, ‘Women born as women; transgender people (which was also misspelled) can only play in the libero position,’ which in volleyball is a position where the player doesn’t attack and only stays in the back.”

This is a clear and serious example of discrimination. However, in this year’s call for nationals, to be held in León, Guanajuato, that statement is no longer included.

Still, it’s important to point out that, on a national level, only these twelve trans women who are protected by the amparohave their right to participate in the national volleyball tournaments officially recognized by the FMVB. Jessica explains that there are other girls who continue to suffer acts of discrimination that undermine their dignity by exposing them in public, as if they were doing something wrong or committing a crime.

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

“We’ve achieved something that had never been done anywhere else in the world—we won a lawsuit against a Federation. That’s why we wanted to make all of this visible, because we’re not doing it to offend anyone. But there are things that are just illogical. For example, people say, ‘Why don’t you start your own league?’ If, at the national level, only 12 people have an amparo, imagine that—we’re teams of six and we all live in different states. It just doesn’t make sense. And we’re not doing this to belong [to something]; it’s simple: if the state legally recognizes you as a woman, then obviously you are a woman, here and wherever that recognition exists. In this country, they do grant you your identity as a woman, and you should have all the same rights as any other woman.”

Jessica emphasizes this in light of the recent decision by the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics (NAIA) in the U.S., which has issued a sweeping ban on trans women participating in women’s sports. This contrasts with the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) and the International Olympic Committee (IOC), which still base transgender athletes’ eligibility on hormone levels and testosterone suppression treatments.

These restrictive actions follow an executive order signed earlier this year by ultra-conservative U.S. President Donald Trump, which specifically bans transgender women from participating in women’s sports.

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

Wendy Guevara, the VERY lost one

A few days ago, the influencer known as Wendy Guevara, part of the so-called “las perdidas” crew, stated on a television program broadcast by Univisión that, in her opinion, transgender women should not compete directly with cisgender women in any sport because “the strength isn’t the same,” and therefore they would have a certain advantage.

Her comments sparked a wave of controversy on social media, generating a heated debate between those who supported her and those who rejected her opinion as “ignorant.” Unfortunately, many used the opportunity to post transphobic remarks that undermine the progress the trans community has made in various areas.

“I respect her stance very much,” Jessica explains, “but what she doesn’t understand is that we don’t want her to be our spokesperson or say she represents us. It’s just that with the enormous reach she has, with her millions of followers, she shouldn’t be speaking without knowing. Her reality is very different from mine, for example. I live my life as a woman 24/7. I wake up and go to sleep always as who I am: Jessica—before my family, in society, here at work. In all the years since I began my transition, I’ve never had a problem using a bathroom, no one has ever told me ‘you need to leave because you’re a man.’ So our realities are very different. I didn’t change my legal identity so that people would keep calling me what was once written on a piece of paper—as if we’re going backwards. Because today the reality is different. I can show you my documents and they all say I am legally a Mexican woman—none of them say ‘trans woman.’”

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

“For us, volleyball isn’t just a mere hobby—it’s a way of life, it’s a whole ritual. I mean, putting on your uniform, arriving at the court, being on time, making sure you attend enough games to qualify for the finals, even missing work just to make it to your matches. Volleyball is something I’m passionate about, something I love—but people forget that you, as a person, have the same rights as anyone else. Many also don’t understand that we’re not here to compete against cisgender women—we’re here to stand with them. They’ve always been our inspiration.”

Jessica points out the existence of a double standard, since at the same time, there are cisgender women who fiercely fight for the right to compete with men in male-dominated sports.

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

Jessica also points out that clownish figures like Wendy [Guevara] ignore the biological changes that transgender women undergo due to hormone therapy.

According to cirugiadegenero.com, feminizing hormone therapy involves trans women receiving estrogen and/or anti-androgens. This treatment can lead to a variety of changes, such as breast development, softer skin, reduced body hair, decreased fertility, less frequent and less firm erections, mood swings, voice changes, and—very importantly—a reduction in physical strength, among others.

Jessica adds that muscle growth becomes stunted and bone density decreases. In addition, many trans women must be extremely cautious, especially post-surgery, since any hard fall or blow could cause serious injury.

“We just want to play sports in a healthy way, like anyone else.”

As a trans woman athlete, Jessica is often invited to give talks on the topic, which has allowed her to help educate others about sexual diversity and gender expression—something she sees as essential for ensuring human rights for all. “We just want to play sports in a healthy way, like anyone else.”

In closing, she emphasizes:
“Diversity includes all of us, and we all have that part of us that is unique—which is what should really matter: being authentic and unique in this life. We aim for good things. We are not murderers, kidnappers, or violent people. We simply have rights like anyone else, and also obligations, like paying taxes and all that, and we fulfill them without a problem.”

Courtesy of Jessica Hernández

Jessica bids us farewell with the same warmth and smile with which she greeted us, speaking lovingly of her family—her parents and eight siblings. She especially highlights the sister who comes just before her in age, six years older, who is also a trans woman and a deep source of inspiration. Her sister has built an exemplary life, both personally and professionally.

“Our story is really beautiful because I almost seem like the older one. In the sense that I was the one who taught her how to do her makeup, told her to shape her body—and of course I love her. To me, she’s like an institution in all of this, because she works in a corporate setting, in a very exclusive multinational company, and she never gave up on her dream. She works as what she is—a woman—and she is treated and recognized as a woman. And that’s all we’re trying to achieve with everything we do.”