It’s easy to forget that Title IX is quite new. Not only were my grandmothers born before its enactment, so was my mom. I am the first woman in my family who has always had the right to play sports in school, and not only did I do that, but I succeeded at every level. I went from youth learn-to-ski practices, to becoming a Junior National All-American, to racing at NCAA Championships, to competing internationally for Team USA.

As Republicans try to ban some women from sports, it’s worth remembering that it wasn’t long ago that people said the same thing about all of us. Now, many people understand that I should be included but somehow think it’s different for my friends, other women and girls, who happen to be trans. I can understand. There was a time that as a cisgender female athlete, I too fell for politicians’ hate and fear. But I was wrong, and so are they.

First, participation is far more important than winning, particularly in school. The American Medical Association calls violence against transgender people an “epidemic,” and rates of suicide are far higher for transgender and non-binary youth than cisgender youth. At the same time, we know that sport changes lives. Participation in sports has physical benefits like a lower risk of cardiovascular disease, academic benefits like higher high school graduation rates and college attendance and psychological benefits like improved self-esteem and sense of well-being. Everyone deserves that opportunity.

Second, questions of advantage are not nearly as clear as fearmongers would like you to believe. All sports have some genetic factor that improves performance — are we going to ban tall basketball players next? It is easy to see that trans athletes are not causing problems, as we already have amazing transgender women and girls competing everywhere from high school, to college, to Olympic trials, and cisgender women like me still have opportunities to thrive.

Above all, though, what persuaded me was my own experience. There is so much to love about being on a team: laughing until you cry with girls who are family, or going through sacred pre-competition rituals like putting on sparkles and tightening race braids. But there’s a dark side too.

By the time I was 15, adults were already talking about my body and what a shame it would be if I hit puberty and slowed down. When I was 16, my teammate was doing planks with weights on her back because she thought she “had a muffin top.” By 17, my friends were doing secret workouts at night if they raced poorly. At 18, I got my wisdom teeth out, and all I could think was how exciting it would be to take two days off in a row for the first time in years. When I was 19, I struggled to help a friend whose eating disorder was so severe that she was sent to the hospital to have her heart checked, and yet all she wanted to talk to me about was training more. At 20, I woke up so sick I was coughing up blood; I raced anyway.

I’m 27 years old now and I have more stories like these than years. For Republicans to ignore the very real long-term mental and physical damage that girls in sport face and target my trans friends instead is not only hateful but, frankly, insulting. The only way that we will fix our problems is by seeing that girls and women are more than our bodies, more than our results. In other words, we will only be safe when we’re seen as whole people.

The legislation and debate about trans girls’ bodies is dehumanizing, plain and simple. And while these laws will hurt trans girls the most, I promise you they will hurt us all.