So, a friend asked me today why I identify as a trans woman instead of as just a woman, because it seems like I am separating/sub-categorizing myself. I could have just commented, but instead, I decided to write it out thoughtfully. There are many reasons, and it is a choice I made, and make on a daily basis to continue.
Preface: This is only my experience and opinion. I do not speak for every trans person that identifies this way, simply for myself.
That being said, here goes:
Trans is an adjective, like tall or smelly. It is a descriptor of the kind of woman I am. I use Trans Woman as my descriptor/identity for a multitude of reasons. They are many and varied. I will attempt to list them all out in the best way that I can.
First, because I don’t have the same experiences as an AFAB (Assigned Female at Birth) Woman, it feels like I am taking something away from myself and my identity if I drop the Trans. Also, because I didn’t have those experiences, I feel more like I am an awkward 13-16 year old girl in a 34 year old’s body.
I didn’t get to experiment with makeup, dish and giggle with the girls about the stupid things the boys did that day, grow into my body in the way that they did, etc. I also didn’t have to worry about someone assaulting me, following me home, having my keys in my hand walking across the parking lot, not going certain places after dark, having a code word with friends when going out, etc. These are all things that separate my experience from an AFAB women’s.
I also don’t feel that I am fully worth of the “title,” of just woman. Most of the strongest people (and most of my heroes) are women who have been through uninimaginable horrors and trauma that were inflicted upon them by people that have bodies that are like mine (at least until I started on HRT [Hormone Replacement Therapy]).
Even though I never did those things, or ever even related to Men’s ways of thinking or acting, I have the same body, and got the same treatment that they did for my entire life up until not that long ago. It feels like I am taking something away from their experiences and struggles if I claim the identity of Woman.
In addition, I had to work so hard and do so much soul searching, deal with the pain that I did, make myself a limited version of myself, and finally get to a point of breaking out of my cute boy shaped costume in order to get to this moment.
That is not the experience that a cisgender woman had or ever will have. That separates us in a way that I cannot ever traverse (no matter how much I wish I could sometimes). I am a woman forged in fire, pain, loss, struggles, and rebirth in a way that a non-trans woman will ever experience. There is nothing wrong with that, it’s just the fact of the matter.
Also, because I am strong enough. I don’t say that out of ego, I have had a rough life, and a lot of people would not have survived to get to this point. I put myself in a lot of dangerous situations that should have killed me because of the pain I was in. Most people have 1 or 2 situations that they could or should have died…I can’t even count them. They probably number in the hundreds. I beat my body up for years in a multitude of ways, actively had a death wish for about 5 years, acted without thinking because I just didn’t care whenther I lived or died, told people to shoot me or stab me (they didn’t), spent time with severely unhinged people that had done serious time for intense violent crimes that they had no remorse over, and many other dangerous situations that your average person wouldn’t have ever thought about putting themself in, let alone actievely sought them out. I was also actively suicidal for significant periods of time. I never did anything about it, because I couldn’t force myself to do it, but there were months where I thought about killing myself every day.
So, I am strong enough to take it. Anything that bigots and transphobes care to throw at me is nothing to compare to what I put myself through.
I do this, and am as visible as I am for many reasons.
First, for every person that doesn’t know a trans person and judges them, makes fun of them, laughs at them, etc. Maybe if they see me or talk to me, I can change their mind.
Secondly, for the trans people that have to deal with bigots and transphobes in every aspect of their life. If they can see me living my life 100% authentically, maybe it gives them the strength to hold on long enough to live their lives without fear and get out of the oppressive situations that they are in currently.
Thirdly, because of white privilege. Trans people as a whole are one of the most victimized, brutalized, and oppressed people in the world, second only to Trans People of color. Because of the color of my skin, I can say things, do things, and be safe in situations that my siblings cannot. If I were to ignore that, I would be willfully ignorant, and I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for doing that.
Lastly, for trans kids. I do what I do so that they will live long enough to become beautiful, strong, and vibrant Trans adults. Full fucking stop.
I have no bones about knowing that me being as visible, outspoken, proud, and happy as I am angers some people, and some of them may wish me harm, pain, and death. That’s fine. I don’t like it, don’t accept it, and will not let it stop me from living my most authentic life.
If one trans person lives to die of old age, and not murder or suicide, because of my actions and visibilty, then it is 1,000,000,000% worth it.
I am also, not blind to the fact that I may be the victim of a transphobic hate crime because of my visibility, outspokeness, authenticity, words, and actions. I may be killed or brutalized at some point. I have made my peace with that.
One of my (blood) siblings said that they (not their pronouns, but to protect their anonymity, I am using gender neutral pronouns) were worried I would die within 5 years. Honestly, when I read that message, I thought to myself, 5 years of finally living as myself and being happy? Instead of the 30+ years of pain and suffering that I had prior?
There is no comparison to my life today to what it was even 5 years ago, and I would die peacefully knowing who I am.
So, to my friend, and anyone who read this far, those are the reasons that I identify as a trans woman instead of a woman.
I am going to preface this with, not attacking anyone, just something that I have been reflecting on and made me think. I also could be just overthinking this, as I am apt to do at times, so please let know your thoughts.
If however, you see this as an attack and feel the need to defend your religion, you can just go ahead and keep scrolling, that is not my intent, I am simply putting some of my thoughts into words to open debate and make people think. I am not saying any belief system is more right than another, in fact, my belief is that all religious and spiritual beliefs are partly right (and partly wrong, because they were created by humans, who are flawed) and are just ways that resonate more with different people.
If you feel that strongly about it, maybe that is something you should look at, and if you want to go on the defensive, maybe you should just stop reading my writing, as an attack is not what I am doing, and I am not going to sit and try to defend things that are simply observations.
That being said, here is what I have been reflecting on over the last 24 hours or so:
It is amazing how much the Christian mindset pervades our country. I am not Christian, haven’t been in a long time, but I got so many “Happy Easter,” greetings yesterday (phone calls, texts, etc.), including a Snapchat message from the developers…
Nothing wrong with that, except as a person who doesn’t subscribe to these beliefs, it is pushed so hard, especially when compared to other belief systems and their (not)doing the same thing.
I didn’t know what to say/respond to these messages. You too seems wrong, as I don’t want to enforce the idea that it is fine and I believe the same thing that they do. I said (to my mom when we talked on the phone) that it isn’t a holiday for me, so I didn’t have a special meal or anything planned; it seemed as if she was shocked/thrown when I said that, I think partly because I grew up in that belief system, and partly because she doesn’t see how I could walk away from it, because it has helped her so much and is so tied to a part of her identity.
In comparison, I have a LOT of Jewish friends…and none of them sent me a message wishing me a happy Passover (even though the start was only a few days ago)…but I can think of at least 10 people who reached out to me to wish me a happy Easter.
For a country that says it is ok to be whatever you want, it is amazing how the subliminal message that is being pushed is that if you are non-Christian, you are outside of the norm, and it is ok to push those beliefs onto others, even if just in a “Happy whatever,” way.
A related thought is the “War on Christmas.” Spoiler alert, people that celebrate other holidays aren’t trying to take away your ability to celebrate one of your religion’s major holidays.
There are holidays for almost every major (and some minor) religions in December and January, and saying happy holidays is literally the most accurate way to greet people, especially if you don’t know their beliefs, which, if you are honest with yourself, it is a pretty good bet that you don’t know what religious belief all of the people that you interact with in a 6 week period are practitioners of.
Personally, I know Pagans, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, Satanists, Jews, Taoists, and more, so me saying “Merry Christmas,” especially when it isn’t something that I follow or agree with (for me only), and have had such a tumultuous relationship with the religion I was raised in, (in a sense) negates the experiences and beliefs of all of those people.
It personally makes me feel uncomfortable saying Christian phrases, for many reasons. If I do, am I open to hearing Happy whatever, or May X bless you, or am I implicitly closing the door and making others either pretend like I didn’t say anything, or letting them know that I think that their beliefs are not as valuable as mine?
It also echoes the (sometimes) unspoken belief that if you do not fit in the White, Cisgender, and straight package there is something wrong/broken/different/other about you, and we need to make sure that you know this…incessantly, and offensively. Add Judeo-Christian to that list, and the only thing on that list that I am is White, so there is always going to be something about me that offends someone’s delicate sensitivites.
So, yesterday, I received an email. Nothing abnormal about that, except for 4 things.
1) It was from an old family friend who I haven’t seen or spoken to in years, and would have no way to get the email address they sent it to, except by getting it from someone.
2) They somehow knew that I am trans, despite me having no connection to them or their family for a long time (Years before I started looking at my identity), and not coming out to them, because they are not a part of my life anymore.
3) They came at me from a place of judgement, incorrect information, and telling me that I am simply confused or mistaken about being Trans.
4) and They did not try to open a dialogue. It was a very judgement-filled, close-minded, and higher than thou type of message.
I decided not to respond, but this is a teachable moment for any one of you who may have a trans person in your life (or may in the future), and this is NOT how to behave if you want to have a relationship with them, or want them to actually open a dialogue with you.
The message is as follows:
As you said, you are an intelligent person …
Your family would sacrifice their lives for you! Their love is that deep. Do you REALLY think it is healthy to distance yourself from them at such a crucial time in your life? They are all very intelligent people. Don’t run for fear of hearing something that would change the trajectory of your life yet again. Listen to all sides again and again. Don’t immerse yourself in one or you will blind yourself to all other possibilities!
What if the leap you make is not REAL?
SC Lewis…
“I am afraid the psychologists will not be content to explain my insect fears by what a simpler generation would diagnose as their cause – a certain detestable picture in one of my nursery books …”
Best, <Name Redacted>”
Now, there is a lot to unpack there, most of which is not based on actual facts, and I wish I could tell you that this was the only/first time such ignorant things have been said to me, but it is not, and I would be willfully ignorant if I thought it would be the last.
My first feeling when I read this was that my heart had suddenly gained 50 pounds and was run over by a steamroller. It took all of the air out of my lungs.
What does this person know about me, or my relationships with my family except secondhand information? Where do they get off telling me what to do, or how much my family loves me, I know that, despite the sick way that some of them have reacted? Coming at me, after zero contact for almost a decade, and not being close for almost 2, with the blatant audacity of thinking that they know me.
Once I calmed down a bit, I wrote a well thought out, non-judgemental, logical response (with actual facts, not unfounded opinions. I shared it with a few close friends, trans and not. One of my good friends suggested I leave it alone, as she told me:
So your response is good, but my personal opinion is that they don’t deserve a response. Nothing you say will convince them of anything. And if you haven’t talked to them in over 10 years than an response is unnecessary. Also, lions don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep. And you’re a beautiful lioness, fuck that little sheep. They’re being the actor, trying to control both you and your family by saying what everyone should do and say and act like. Which is sick behavior. The only way to win is to not participate, in my opinion.
I am taking her advice, and instead using this as an opportunity to say what I wanted to say in a more public forum. If it helps one person that is struggling with family/friends/coworkers and their unfounded opinions, unasked for advice, or plain bigotry, or someone that has a trans person in their life doesn’t act in this way, then the time that I take to write this is well worth it.
First, love.
Now, I am not Christian (far from it, in fact), but the Bible has some real gems, such as the following.
Love is patient,love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,it is not easily angered,it keeps no record of wrongs.Love does not delight in evilbut rejoices with the truth.It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
My family, and the person that wrote the email that is the catalyst for this post, are Christian. When they talk about me distancing myself from my family, that is partially true.
I did not spend Christmas with them, I did not go to a sibling get together a few weeks later, and I have not been reaching out to them that much. However there are reasons for that, and more to that than meets the eye.
1) When I came to Thanksgiving as Justice, not <Redacted>, and came out to the remainder of my siblings (which is covered in detail in this post) my Mom told me that I would always be her son, although my siblings seemed to take it well (which turned out to not be the case).
2) Because of the toxic victim mentality, inability to hear what I was saying (they listened, but didn’t hear), weaponized feelings, manipulative actions, and attempting to use old friends to convince me that I was simply confused (not positive on this, but pretty sure) I decided to put up boundaries to protect myself. <Note: This was not all of them, and some of this has gotten better>
3) I told them three things. That my name is Justice, and not to use my birthname; I am a trans woman, and to use feminine pronouns; and that if they were going to try to convince me of something about my identity, then I respectfully declined to put myself in those situations.
4) I didn’t reach out to them that much before this, so it is not like I cut off contact.
5) I have continued to have communication with every one of my family, barring one, as they have completely ignored my requests. I also, am not opposed to speaking to them, I am just not reaching out to someone that seemed to be an ally, until I told them something that they don’t agree with, and then started spitting venom. I think that they were ok (ish) with my questioning my gender, as long as I came to the conclusion that I was cisgender.
Sorry, dear, not the reality.
So, back to that email. Being transgender is not something I chose, am confused about, isn’t real, or is some fleeting thing like a hair color, or an outfit. It is a part of me, and always has been.
I can remember the first time I felt ok with myself and comfortable with my body. It was when I was 4 or 5 and was playing dress up. I wore a dress and and I felt at home in my own body for the first time. I couldn’t tell you that at that time, put words to it, or accept it, but that was the moment that I knew, in my heart of hearts, that I was transgender.
There have been thousands (if not millions) of moments, thoughts, feelings, and experiences that have given me pause, and looking back at them now, I just wonder how it took me so long.
Also, “listening to all sides again and again,” is not what this is about. My existence is not up for debate. Period.
I know that it must be hard for my family to deal with me being trans, but sorry, it is the truth. It doesn’t matter how many times you tell me that 2+2=19, it doesn’t make it accurate.
Intelligence is different than educated, and doesn’t equal logical or openminded or well. I told them how I have felt my entire life, and based on their religious views, or idea of who I am, even when I was telling them that they were mistaken, I was being told I am wrong. They see me as the person that I was, that I put up as a shield, to hide from myself and others, so I wouldn’t have to look at being trans. Eventually, I couldn’t keep the facade up anymore, and it broke.
And “blinding myseld to all other possibilities”? You mean a heterosexual cisgender male? Like the life I tried to live my entire life and it kept me stagnant, broken, and living in a world of grayscale and unhappiness? Sorry, I tried that, and it didn’t work, and it could have killed me. Not going back to that.
Multiple members of my family also were worried about me becoming sterile by being on HRT. Did any of them actually ask me if I want to have children? No, because if they had, I would have told them the answer. If I can’t bear children of my own, I don’t want, or need to be the biological parent, plus, there are so many kids that need love, family, and advocates, and I am happy to be that for them. Family doesn’t have to be blood.
I could go into the science or medical opinion on transgender people, or biological sex and gender, or the history of us (spoiler alert, been around for centuries, if not longer), but there are experts who are much more familiar and eloquent than I am, so if you are interested, simply take a look.
I hope that this has been helpful to at least one person, besides for me. If you have thoughts that are not coming from a place of willingness, and you are simply going to throw your opinion, with no facts, or an experience of your own, kindly, shove off.
I exist, I am valid, I am proud, I am transgender, I am strong.
The last 18 months have been some of the hardest, but most rewarding of my life. I realized a lot of things about myself and the world about me. Not just that I am a Bisexual Transgender Woman, that is probably the biggest one, but many other things as well.
In all of the self reflection, I was able to come to a better understanding of who I am as a person, not sexuality, gender, name, or otherwise, but the unique things about me, that make me me.
When I started questioning my gender identity, it was a series of existential crises on top of existential crises. This may not be the case for all Trans/enby/GnC folx, but it certainly was for me. I didn’t know what was real about me and what I had put up to prevent myself from looking “feminine,” not because of what others would think, but so I could keep those thoughts at bay. Why did I act in certain ways? Was it because I actually felt that way/liked those things/etc? Or was it yet another mask that I had put on to protect myself and my ego, and not wanting to face the truth about myself?
It’s something you’re born with, and you realize that you’re trapped in the wrong body. It’s not like one day you’re like, ‘I want to be transgender!’
Jazz Jennings
I had to categorically look at almost everything in my life, childhood, relationships (romantic, friendships, family, etc.), career choices, hobbies, political beliefs, music, movies, likes, dislikes, and on, and on, and on. The reason that I did this was because I didn’t know who I truly was, and what was part of my pseudo-self.
I also didn’t know that I had gender dysphoria, until my therapist read me the DSM definition, and I hit all of the criterion. I have seen all of the memes and Tumblr posts that you all have (maybe a few more because, well…) and I thought that I had to hate my body, want to mutilate myself, kill myself, etc. in order for me to have dysphoria.
This is not necessarily the case!
What my therapist told me is that dysphoria, like gender (and sexuality, politics, biological sex [Don’t believe me, check out the science], etc.) exists along a spectrum. The reason that the things that I saw was because of the shock value and that those are the extremes. Extremes grab peoples’ attention, get remembered, and get clicks/read/views. The average is just that, average, and it doesn’t catch attention.
What made it easier for me to start questioning everything was having out and proud Trans/enby/GnC people in my circle, so I could talk to them about their experience. I spoke to a friend and former co-worker who is genderfluid, and what she/they told me about her experience rang true in certain aspects, but there were other things that didn’t jive with me. There were things that I could relate to, and things I couldn’t. But it made me realize that there was definitely something there. If I had spoken to her and nothing made sense or sounded familiar to how I have felt, then I would have known (hopefully) that I was cisgender. What happened instead was similar to Alice. Once she went down the rabbit hole, there was no going back.
Once I realized that there was something there, I couldn’t ignore it/hide from it anymore. I started looking at everything I had thought about, and explained away with a “Everyone thinks like this sometimes,” which is certainly not the case. Not everyone imagines that they will wake up one day and be the opposite sex, or plays every available character in games that is the opposite sex and is annoyed when there is no option for it, and 1000s of other little things that are easy to explain away at the time.
I existed in what one of my friends accurately described as “Gender Purgatory,” for probably about 9 months. I didn’t know if I was trans, enby, or just a guy that enjoyed wearing women’s clothing…or something in between. I described myself as “Whatever the fuck I am,” for awhile. It was very confusing, and disheartening at times. I didn’t know if I wanted to change my name, pronouns, go onto hormones, etc. I talked to probably about 2 dozen different peeps with similar experiences (mostly trans women, but some questioning, some trans men, etc.) over that time, did a LOT of research, introspection, digging in therapy, refection on my life, talking to close friends, etc.
I tried using They/Them pronouns, but it didn’t feel right, just like my birth name and male pronouns no longer felt like me anymore, I stopped using my birth name and used Gael for a bit (at least online and with my therapist), but that didn’t seem right, either, and didn’t feel like me, so I never asked anyone to use it. I started introducing/using a nickname that I have had for a long time, which didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel as wrong as my birth name…it at least wasn’t overtly male, like my birth name is.
I wasn’t truly happy or content for most of my life, but now that I have realized that I was inside a man shaped shell and am doing what I am to move towards and grow into the woman inside, I can truthfully say that I am happier and more in touch with myself than I have ever been.
This lasted until September 11th, 2019. That’s when I found my name, and realized that I was definitely a trans woman. I had given up researching names and was just processing a bunch of stuff, letting it happen how it would. I was anxious all of the time, not sure what direction to go in, lost and confused.
Don’t get me wrong, I was happier than I had ever been, felt more like myself than I ever had, and leaned on some people and was a looot more open about my feelings than I ever had been in my life.
That was something that directly contributed to the end of the relationship that ended right before I started to look at my identity. I wasn’t able to be emotionally vulnerable, partly because I couldn’t identify what I was feeling (because I had been burying it for so long), partly because I wouldn’t allow myself to try (unconsciously, that is) because if I did, then the mask would start to unravel, and partly because I was in stasis.
I could only grow so much…even though I did a LOT of work on myself over the last decade, but I had hit a wall, and it was like I was in a world of greyscale, I knew that colour existed (Note: I grew up near the Canadien border, so I spell some things that way, it is not wrong, just different, and my preference) but I couldn’t see it, and I had gotten used to the world without it, and was resigned to my reality, it just was.
This is not to say that I wasn’t ecstatic or melancholy sometimes, but the majority of the time, I was just kind of bleh.
I had trained myself how not to let my emotions run over, and the longer I did it, the harder it was for me to feel anything outside of a pre-determined scale…and the longer I did that, the smaller the scale got.
Not that I didn’t feel emotions, in fact, I felt (and feel) them very intensely, but to protect myself from digging deeper, I disciplined myself on “moving” my reactions from an emotional one to a logical one. I did this (I thought) as a healthy way to avoid boiling over, when in fact, the reality of the situation was that this was a coping mechanism to keep my identity locked away, so I could be ok with being a straight cisgender male…even though none of that was accurate.
I grew up in an Irish Catholic household, was homeschooled, have mental health issues (anxiety and AD/HD), have an overactive imagination, and am fairly intelligent, couple that all together, and I ended up with a lot of guilt and shame about being outside of the norm. That would have been fine, and I probably could have kept it together and lived a semi-normal life, but then when I was 14 or 15 a friend (Let’s call him M…one of the kindest souls I have ever met) came out to me as gay.
This didn’t change my opinion of him, in fact, it was a pivotal point in my life. What it did do, was made me seriously question the Catholic church (which I already had misgivings about and it was all my family could do to get me to go to Mass), and this loving God that said that M. was not as good as them, not as worthy of love, because of something that he couldn’t control. That, to put it bluntly, was absolutely fucked in the head, in my opinion.
The second thing it did, was make me a staunch ally of LGBT people…even though I didn’t know that that (Either the term Ally, or the LGBT community) was a thing for quite a few years. I remember having (I tell myself hundreds, but it was probably closer to) dozens of arguments with family members. I call them arguments, because, there was no chance that either side was going to give on their position. I believed that they were wrong, and any God that was loving and didn’t make mistakes wouldn’t forsake and condemn his children for being how he made them, and they followed the Bible and the teachings of the Church, which was (in my perception), that it was ok to be gay, just don’t ever act upon it, because that’s a sin.
Fast forward to the recent past.
I was at work, at my new job (which I LOVE!), taking care of cleaning up a database of users (professional nerd here) which I had been working on every day for about 3 weeks, when I saw my name. 2 seconds earlier, if you had asked me my name, I wouldn’t have known what to respond, but as soon as I saw it, it was like I could finally breathe. Being the logical, analytical person that I am, I researched similar names, but nothing made me quite so peaceful, content, and at home as Justice did.
I knew two things that day. I knew my name, and I knew that I was a Transgender Woman.
I felt so much more at home in my own body than I had my entire life. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you most of my life that I didn’t feel at home in my own body, something just felt off. I couldn’t put words to it, I just felt wrong, not able to put a name to it, and wouldn’t allow myself to face it for a very long time.
I don’t know if this was because of societal pressure, family expectations, self-imposed misogyny, a combination of these, or something else entirely.
After I found my name, I continued talking to people who had been on/were on HRT. I had done a lot of research/talking to people before this, but because of the unknowns and confusion, it was simply information gathering before this point. Now, I knew that I was a transgender woman, so it was real, not a what-if situation.
I did a ton of contemplation about what this would mean for my life: health, people around me, friendships, romantic relationships, family, my career/co-workers, etc. This was all well and good, but one of the things that I have done my entire life was analyze and think my way away from my emotions to avoid facing the truth about myself, and I knew that this was something that I needed to do to feel like me. I had finally ripped the mask off and thrown it away, and I had gotten to a place that I was ok with being me.
I was done limiting, minimizing, and changing who I was to please anyone else or the self imposed limits that I had placed on myself. If I lost every relationship in my life and had to go it alone, then at least I would be ok with that person, like I never had been before. Knowing myself and being true to myself was worth the risk.
About this same time, I came out to my mom. She didn’t approve, understand, or get it. I had told her, one of my sisters, and my dad not that long before that I was questioning my gender identity and had been dressing more feminine, so this wasn’t as huge a thing as it could have been.
I told her that I am a trans woman, I am using female pronouns, going by Justice everywhere except work, and I am probably (had made my initial appontment) going to start HRT soon. She had some things to say which were not the easiest to hear, but were how she felt. I assumed that she was going to tell my dad (this will become important later), and we both went our separate ways.
One of the saving graces that I had through this whole process was having a very strong chosen family around me, both cis and trans people. The cis women in my life helped me with makeup, clothes, giving me a safe space to be myself, and so many other things.
This is such a different experience than so many trans people have, and I know that it is how I was able to get through this whole process without a major breakdown, especially since for the majority of this, my manager at my job was a narcissistic gaslighter who emotionally and psychologically abused me. Just that alone could have sent me off the deep end had I not had the tribe I did, let alone the confusion and unknowns of my identity crisis.
I have so many examples of this, but my rock through this was my bestie (Let’s call her K). She literally saved my sanity, kept me from falling apart too many times to fathom, and helped me nurture the Woman inside. She gave me a safe place to explore and took me as I was at the time. She came with me the first time I went shopping for women’s clothing, which is not something that I could have done alone at the time; pushed me to be true to myself and explore what kind of woman I was, gave me no judgement, just was my biggest cheerleader and a great example and stood on the sidelines shouting encouragement.
She helped me become the woman that I am today, and I cannot even begin to thank her for her love and support.
In early November, I realized that there was not a Pride center in my city. There is one in the next city over, but not one here. The first thought I had was why? The second was, what if I hadn’t had the people and support that I do/did? What if I was 15 going through this? What would I do?
Directly after that, it was, ok Bitch, time to get to work.
I reached out to friends of mine in my city that are in the LGBT community, to see if they would be interested in helping, and a few of them were 100% behind it. We are still in the beginning stages, but we have a solid core group of people that are movers and shakers and are motivated to get this going. We need a safe place for LGBT people to go to be themselves. We are in the process of planning our first event, and doing our initial outreach.
About this time, I decided that it was time to come out at work. I was living as Justice everywhere except work, and I felt like I was a fake, not being true to myself.
However, I wanted to make sure that I would be safe, so I reached out to my LGBT team member of my local union (Proud member here!), to find out what protections I would have, and what the process would look like. She is amazing! Such a great help.
I then talked to my manager…which was much easier than I thought it would be. He had already figured it out months before. Apparently I didn’t hide it as well as I thought. He is concerned with my skillset and ability to do the job, not with my gender. He talked to the head of HR for me so that they knew what was going on, so if anyone made it an issue, I would be protected.
I then had a call with both my manager and the head of HR about potentially changing my name/pronouns at work. Unfortunately, because of the nature of my job, there could be things that might be audited, so I need to wait until I legally change my name, which is giving me impetus to do that sooner rather than later.
During this time, I started coming out to my family. They were seemingly supportive.
At Thanksgiving I finished coming out to my siblings, which went semi well…I thought. My mom, however, told me flat out that I would always be my birth name and her son to her, which felt very hurtful, and like I was not being heard.
It feels like there is this huge double standard in my family. I mean, I know that I have caused a lot of hurt because of some of my past actions, but I have spent the past decade trying to mend them. It seems like it is ok to judge me and comment on my life, but I have to just accept the things that are broken in my family, and the choices/beliefs that my family has as accurate/acceptable. If I go against the grain…which is literally everything that makes me who I am, then it is going to be analyzed and debated to death, or ignored.
About a week after that, my mom sent a passive aggressive message to our family group chat (using my birth name and male pronouns) which rocked me, as she referenced the rest of the family being a mess. I reached out to my siblings to get clarity, and they all were wrecks emotionally.
They said things which showed me how much I have grown emotionally, as I know that someone’s feelings about what someone doing in their life (which do not directly effect them) is not the other person’s fault. I can’t make them feel something, that is on them and their beliefs/issues. I responded in a kind way, but saying, essentially, that It is my life and I am not going to change to spare their feelings, that they need to fix themselves, I can’t do that for them.
I then decided that because of how toxic some of the things that they were saying, that it was better for me to not spend the holidays with them. I needed to put up healthy boundaries to take care of me.
This caused my oldest sister to send me a bunch of poison. The things she said attacked my character, my morals, and were some of the most hurtful things that have ever been sent to me, period. Was she not my sister, I would have responded nastily and told her to never speak to me again. The things that she said are just not ok.
That just cemented my decision to not spend holidays with them, because she was going to be there, and I do not want to see her while she is saying things like that. She also outed me to one of my best friends from growing up, which, due to the nature of her job, and her contact with people in the LGBT community, she should know that you don’t do that. Especially, since, my suspicion was so that he could convince me to change my life and put the cute boy costume back on.
Not gonna happen. They may not like it, understand it, approve of it, or have made the same decision if they were in my shoes, but this is who I am.
One really good thing that came out of this shitstorm was that I am learning how to set healthy boundaries with my family.
While this is not everything that has happened to me over the last 18 months or so, it is a pretty good synopsis, and what I feel I needed to say.
I am trans, I am proud, I am finally starting to love myself, I am not afraid anymore
Time to buck this trend. Where am I going, where will this lead? No idea, but going to make this world bleed
Not in a violent way,
but adding colour to my world of grey.
Time keeps ticking on, as I re-create myself;
Taking things I ignored off of the shelf. Building speed like a grain of sand Picking up things that I rejected off-hand, as being implausible or simply laughable.
Instead, all of these thoughts, hopes, and fantasies, That I believed to simply be fallacies… Hold more truth inside than a jaded bride.
Come to find out, I am all of the things that I rejected
and ignoring them simply left me feeling dejected, While embracing the confusing and unknown brought the light in and gave me dominion upon my new throne.
This is a poem that I wrote a few weeks ago about the last year, and coming to terms that I am a Transgender Woman. Hope that you enjoy (Copyright 2019 under Creative Commons).
Am I right In taking flight?
In being true to myself I have had to break the old Conceptions of what is true And Be Bold.
Destroying Ideas of what I thought And rebuilding myself through and through. The final product can’t be bought, Except with blood, sweat, and tears Facing fears That I didn’t even know existed So many feelings and emotions… Too many to be listed. Pain, loneliness, despair, Joy, peace, contentment
All of these and more running through the air, I finally feel free To be me What dreams may come I do not know Finally taking myself out from under the thumb Of what I should be, and look like.
This has been coming to a head, Since I was a little tyke. I can finally let the shackles of dread Fall from my psyche.
I can conclusively say That I was living myself as a shadow Version of my true self. That person was real Don’t get me wrong, But not the same as who she became on the morrow. No longer so much weighing down on his brow.
Who am I to become, I do not know, But I do know that now I can grow.
I was stuck, Pretending to be moving forward, When, in all actuality, I was burning and charred, Not far from Shao Kahn announcing, “Fatality!”
Floundering, lost in an ocean of confusion, But safe and protected Because I now have a vision Of what direction in which to travel Allowing the false image to finally unravel.
Being helped on the path by a team That does not understand, But is there to help me find my dream… And wherever it may land.
