Fresh Starts

It's almost the 3 month mark. Three months ago I lived in the public view as a guy. But away from work I was most often a woman. The transitions back and forth took a toll but it was the price I needed to pay up front to be able to craft my future life into a stable and comfortable world. A couple of times I had particularly jarring phase shifts where I was out and about with friends as Dianne and had to run home, wash off my face, pull off my hair and race off to fill an obligation as my male host organism. Transforming in 10 minutes from Middle Aged Mall Mom to Dumpy Geek Guy was painful. I glanced in the mirror on the way out to make sure I didn't have mascara on my cheeks and came very close to crying. I was gone, I went away, but I knew I would be back. I drew strength from the knowledge that there was a plan and that I would soon be able to just be me all the time. I knew I could then stop going to the market across town where I could hide. I knew I could then answer my phone with only one name and with utter confidence that there were no secrets. I knew it would be better and much simpler then.

Well, "Then" is "Now."

I am in the New Normal. A friend at work commented that she can't even imagine me as a guy anymore. Dianne is just normal to her. I was sitting and talking with my two closest co-workers and one of them commented on my cool new black flats with sparkle rhinestones on the toes. She said, "If you had told a year ago that I would be complimenting you on your Beadazzled ballet flats I would have said you were Nuts!" It's the new normal. The lady in the mirror isn't a wish any more, it's just me! I check my lipstick, floof my hair and give myself a big wink as I head out the door. I'm not filling my male hosts obligations anymore. I am just living my life in the New Normal.

There are probably 9 or 10 new people in my personal and work lives that NEVER KNEW the guy me. They might know that my past is unusual, but they don't know how recently the corner was turned. They don't know how long I waited. They just know me as an outgoing woman, or suspected Trans Woman, from work or through mutual friends. In a week we will be getting a new manager. He's been clued in, which is quite fair since it is so very fresh. This saves me from having to have "a conversation" with him and it saves him from an uncomfortable revelation if he happened to belong to one of the prevalent cults that views us as abominations or fractured individuals. And in a way it allowed my employer tell him that this is viewed as Normal.

Yes, I'm in the New Normal and it is so comfortable. The whizzy Gender Buzz that was always distracting me is gone. I'm not worried, I'm not angry or frustrated, I don't feel put upon any more. I'm just Dianne living in my New Normal meeting new people and in new situations where I get to make a fresh start. There may come a time when everybody in my life will have a hard time trying to remember what I was like before. Then there will come a time when they don't even try. Then I will just be...

Normal

How Beautiful is This?

This amazingly touching and beautiful commercial came to me via the wonderful web site "We Happy Trans*" We see so many embarassing, demeaning depictions of trans people in the media. Ads where the trans person or their "ambiguity" is the punch line. This one makes me proud and gives me hope, and makes me cry...

And please explore Jen's terrific We Happy Trans* site. She is part of the lovely newer generation of trans people who are coming into a positive time where shame may become a useless thing of the past!

Floor Please?

WOW,

It's been a whole/just 2 months since I came out to everyone and prepared to live my life full time as an honest "Me."  I look back and can't believe that I ever lived any other way! It has been fantastic at work and the people have been wonderful. I am amazingly more engaged with (almost) everyone in my life! On Friday I had lunch with a business friend and we just had simple girl chat and talked about friends and family, the holidays, work-life balance, manicures and coloring hair. What the heck did I talk about back in September at lunches? I Dunno!

Before I went to lunch, one of my co-workers, "B" got a call from a mutual friend, "J", who was unexpectedly early in the lobby of our building and taking B to lunch. B had to "stop off in private" before she went down so I trotted off to see J downstairs. As I headed out I asked B, "Oh, does J know that I've made changes?'"  B said, "No, but she'll be fine."  Well I get down there, step off the elevator and J's jaw drops and she rushes over and gave me a huge hug! She grabbed my face and looked me in the eyes and started to cry. We both stood there sniffing and weeping and carrying on until B came down and then the three of us hugged and wept and carried on! J's face and her energy reminded me so much of my departed Mom many years ago that when she said, "I am just so proud of you!" I just about lost it. It was so affirming and I felt so Loved.

The thing that makes me feel so Blessed is that the love and acceptance I got from J is what I've gotten from so many people. I cannot believe how lucky I have been! I know so very very many trans people who have had such suffering and so much pain. I had accepted that I would have that also, especially since it is what I always had in the past. But I haven't had that, and I feel like I've won the Grand Prize! Sometimes I worry that someone is going to tap me on the shoulder and tell me that there was a mistake and they need to take me back where I was. I also try to tone it down with my trans peers  because I don't want to come off like some boastful thing. I know that my experience is not typical,  but I think it's getting more feasible every day! It is possible. But again, my life is not typical.

So the loss? I can't run into work 15 minutes after I roll out of bed any more, but that's bad for your constitution anyway. I have also lost whatever tenuous relationship I had with my son and daughter in law, and grandson. And that is hard. I reached out to them and asked about us coming by to drop off Christmas and Grandson  Birthday presents. I said I would do Guy but that I wasn't going to get a haircut or have my nails soaked off. I would not be who I am everywhere else. My son replied quite flatly, "No." He said that any "dressing" was too much and they would not have their son exposed to me. 

I am "dangerous." 

I know I didn't raise a bigot so I guess he learned it somewhere else. I sent them a politely pointed email in reply saying how I felt and that they could expect me to keep reaching out to them. It also pointed out that I had tried to compromise and been rejected and that I had been patient and told that patience would not be rewarded. And I couldn't help but underscore that I have a conservatively estimated 150 people in my life who accept me including politically conservative LDS Moms, Marines and Harvard educated attorneys and that my son and daughter in law represented the only two total people who have flatly rejected me. That's a 98.7% approval rating and I consider that a landslide victory! Their total rejection does hurt. And I may not see my grandson, or the second baby they are expecting, for many years, if ever again, but I would have to say it is still completely worth it for the amazing improvement in the way I feel about life. 

Every growth journey involves some loss. The hope is that the tears of joy can balance out the tears of pain. So far for me the tears of joy are winning!

TRANSGENDER RESTROOM KERFUFFLE

I posted this on my favorite Canadian newspaper blog. There is a bill in the Canadian Parliament to amend the Canadian Human Rights Act to include gender identity and expression protections. The element of the bill that has raised the most "kerfuffle" is restroom access for trans people. Yup! The old chestnut of "Trannies in the Ladies Room!" (And, yes, I advisedly used the potentially inflammatory word "trannies" specifically due to it's emotional tone)  Conservative Canadians have drug out the imagined threat of sexual predators invading the women's restroom to carry out assaults on natal women and children. I am seriously looking for any record of any such assault having ever taken place!!! This search is becoming a hobby for me...  And I don't mean embarrassing Colleen Francis episodes where individual judgment and social comfort diverge, I mean actual incidents involving predatory behavior carried out by trans people in restrooms. So please, comment and re-post and help me find actual evidence!




I have been following Ottawa's progress on Bill C-279 with keen interest. I'm frustrated but not surprised to see it bogging down on the washroom issue. I understand the underlying feelings about allowing trans people into the Ladies room. What I don't understand is the rationale applied that there is a very specific threat of child molesters invading these spaces for predatory purposes. This meme keeps surfacing in North America and I just can't help but wonder what tiny kernel of fact can back it up?

Not long ago I spent a weekend of free internet time doggedly trying to find evidence that any trans person, or anyone pretending to be a trans person, had ever lurked in a restroom with criminal intent. All I could find were dozens and dozens of hits where people raised the dire warning of the impending threat of predators just waiting to be descend once they were given free rein. The closest I came was one young trans woman who used the men's  room for a semi-consensual encounter with an underage teenage boy. There are many jurisdictions where trans women are allowed to use the Ladies room. Why haven't those areas seen cases of trans or faux-trans people lurking in the washroom?

Well, what else did I find in my Google frenzy? A frightening number of trans women who had been harassed or assaulted for using the women's bathroom. One young trans woman in the U.S. was beaten into a seizure at a fast food restaurant for using the women's room. I found a website (www.safe2pee.org) that provides a directory of safe places for trans people to relieve themselves. I found reasonable people using these incidents and statistics to push for accommodations allowing trans people access to safe facilities. So yes, I did find evidence of a persistent threat of violence at the door of the women's washroom. It's just not the one that legislators in Ottawa, or Tennessee or any number of places, are bellowing about. It's the threat that an entitled majority posses to a minority. 

So here, again, I implore anyone to show links to real factual evidence of dangerous trans people prowling restrooms. I'm sure someone will bring up the person in a Texas hospital who was confronted when using a women's room who also had a criminal record of sexual crimes. But that logic would also keep anyone who had ever written a bad check from using a bank or anyone who had ever caused a serious accident from driving. While those are attractive things to consider, no reasonable person would begin to consider keeping all brown haired people from driving because ONE brown haired person had caused an horrific fatal accident.

It is a sticky question, but how much of the question relates to the "Ick Factor" of honest discomfort and how much is a truly clear and present danger?

It has come...

Well it has certainly been quite a month! When we last left our intrepid heroine she had been revealed to her 112 co-workers as a Transgender Woman who was going to transition at the office. The days of "he" would be left behind and days of "she" would begin after a week of reflection and adjustment. And now we rejoin Dianne as the curtain rises on another episode of "Big Changes!"


It has finally really actually happened. I am living my life as Dianne and moving into a new world of my own making! My first day at work was thrilling with not one trace of the anxiety I had anticipated. The preceding week of post-announce pre-transition had been very healthy for everyone. I was able to be open and honest with my coworkers and they were able to see that this was actually going to happen and ask questions.

I made a point on the first day to dress in office proper attire but just a touch spiffier than an average Monday would warrant. This wasn't my first day at a new job, but it was my first day as a new me at the old job. So it was just about the same. Black and print dress, hose, heels, little black open weave cardigan. It is certainly what I would wear to an interview.

My manager and our HR director had arranged a meeting at 9:30 to "make sure we were all on the same page." I had joked that they wanted to make sure my stocking seams were straight but I knew that they really wanted to make sure I was presentable. This was reinforced as they each repeatedly commented, "Wow, you look pretty darn good!" I think they were a bit taken aback that the rumpled dumpy guy who had worn khakis and plaid shirts non-stop for 13 years had suddenly blossomed into a classy middle aged, manicured, well coiffed lady ready for a day at the office! I was presented with a new box of business cards with my new name and off I went to engage the world.

I made a point during the first week to frequently leave my little cube on the remote floor below and get out with people and interact. A very few people became suddenly fascinated with the baseboards when they passed me in the halls but I was chin up and shoulders back! Mainly what I got was acceptance. People made a point to tell me that they cared, that they could see that this was a me that had been hiding in the back shadows and that had finally come out in the open. They were happy for me and I was flutteringly ecstatic!

The thing that has touched me the most, that has made the biggest change in my life, is a thing that I am finding the hardest to absorb. It's something that I rarely dared to dream of and that I was worried might not happen. Something that seemed to be a hope as tenuous and delicate as a dewy spider web in the crisp morning light. Something that has come to me far sooner than I had imagined possible. I feel that people are accepting me as a woman. The women that I work with have begun to welcome me into their culture and make me a sister. It has brought me to tears more than once.

I have had lunches out with my gal friends and confiding chats in the hallways. I've been told about hormone issues and parenting problems and marital frustrations. After 52 years as some sort of a guy I can confidently say, "Men just don't understand. That's why I left the club!" I've been  told by a new friend that it is very important that I vote because of the number of women who soldiered on in the suffrage movement. I've been told by an old friend that I was always one of her favorites and now she knows why. I've had our resident "Once a Marine, Always a Marine" gal stand up, come toe to toe with me, look me in the eye and say, "I'm proud of you." I've gone to a city council meeting regarding a nondiscrimination ordinance and had my picture on the front page of the local paper and had people tell me they were proud that I was there. I've had a friend tell me that my dealing with my nature has changed her perspective on life.

I am amazingly more engaged with the people in my life. I'm not "tolerating" the Holidays as in the past, I am relishing them because I will be spending time with people I enjoy and who enjoy me "as me." Not people who need me to be in a role, but people who know me for who I am and love me for it, not in spite of it. I LOVE the people in my life.


It is an amazing irony that there are only two people in my life who have vowed to have nothing to do with me. My son and daughter in law have stated emphatically that they will not allow "Dianne" to have any contact with my two year old grandson because they feel it will damage him. They will not "act like this is OK." In a startlingly blunt last email from the daughter in law she commented that I "must be so lonely" because of this and then hopes I " learn to embrace who I am." I am incredibly far from lonely and am relishing an amazing sense of embracing who I am. I am finally finishing my adolescence. I am growing up to be who I have felt I was inside and finding an unexpectedly rich and rewarding life. I had no idea how simply depressed and limited I have been for so many years.

I feel like a month ago, the day I was transparently honest with everyone in my life, I was born.

It's my new Birthday!

From the Land of Potatoes

I live in Idaho and our voting law states that you are "requested" to provide a government issued photo ID when you vote. With all the talk about Voting While Trans and the potential issues that T voters could face I decided to do my research. I had begun my full time transition an entire week before election day and, thus, had a photo ID that didn't look very much like "Me" anymore.

I learned that my ID might be refused, and that I could then sign an affidavit stating that I was, indeed, me and that I lived at my address and that I was registered to vote. I printed out some web pages about the laws. I printed out pages from the ACLU and wrote their phone numbers on the pages. I printed out the affidavit and filled out all but the signature and witness lines. I took these prepared truths and these ready facts and put them in a file folder, with a file folder label, and tucked it under my arm and went in to vote at my appointed polling place. I proudly walked up, stated my legal name and handed the volunteer my ID.

She took a look at it, looked at me... and handed me a ballot and pointed to an empty booth.

"But, Don't you, but..."

I was all prepared to defend my right to exercise my franchise and demonstrate my preparedness, all she did was look at my license and look at me and send me on in.

Hmm, does that picture really look like me? I mean, people I know fairly well have walked right past me without a hint of recognition, even with eye contact. Am I just one of the many trans gals who voted there that day? Or is it just no big deal? Was it just another opportunity for me to see that I am taking this whole transition and change thing just a bit more seriously than people around me?

Dunno! I voted and went back to work and then went home to watch the results. And I didn't even get to show off all my fancy papers and my diligent research...

She's Amazing...

Namol Brennet writes and sings such rich full music that I almost cry when I listen.