‘Mental health is survival, not luxury for transgender community’: Akkai Padmashali

Naanu chennagiddene, neevu chennagilla.

I am fine. You are not fine.

When transgender activist Akkai Padmashali says these words, they do not come from a place of arrogance. These are words of a survivor. After years of being told that she was wrong, unnatural and unacceptable from a society that scrutinised the way she spoke, walked and even breathed, she stands steady today, beaming with pride.

Padmashali is someone who has wrestled with rejection, stood at the edge of despair and chosen life anyway. Born male but identifying herself as a woman, she described a childhood and youth shaped by conflict. “It took me more than 30 years to build self-acceptance, self-love and self-respect,” she said.

Mental health, insists Padmashali, is not a luxury for marginalised communities; it is survival. “It is 100 times more important,” she said, explaining how transgender and gender-diverse individuals are often denied homes, education, employment and even basic dignity. Her pain reached its peak when she attempted suicide twice. During her second attempt, something shifted. “I told the rope, ‘I am perfect and you (society) are not,’” she recalled.

For years, Padmashali lived on the margins, surviving through begging and sex work. She witnessed police harassment, financial instability and vulnerability. Her experiences brought clarity, and she decided to fight for the marginalised people who continue to navigate systemic exclusion.

The mental health crisis among individuals from marginalised communities remains urgent. Accessing gender-affirming health care—hormone therapy, surgeries, counselling—can be emotionally and financially exhausting. Even finding a psychologist who understands sexual minorities is rare. In Karnataka alone, with a transgender population exceeding seven lakh, says Padmashali, only a few professionals are considered comfortable and capable enough to be approached.

“I am against sympathy; I want empathy,” emphasised Padmashali. She advocates for community mobilisation—educating individuals about mental health, suicide prevention and addiction—and for institutional reform to make health care truly inclusive. While India has made legal strides in recognising transgender rights, laws alone cannot undo generations of stigma. Healing requires acceptance.

Beyond activism and advocacy, there is a softer side to Padmashali—her love for classical singing. When asked what she might have become if not an activist, her answer came without hesitation: a classical singer. In that brief moment during the conversation, as she sang a few lines, the room shifted. For Padmashali, singing is more than a hobby; it is a form of emotional release. In a life marked by struggle and public battles, music is a reminder that, beyond the fight, there is also poetry.

Her journey reminds us that mental health is not only about diagnosis or treatment. It is also about belonging and reclaiming dignity. And sometimes, it begins with a simple truth whispered in the darkest moment: I am perfect.