The suicide rate among transgender people is staggering. Maybe you've heard.
The 2010 TransPulse survery showed that in Ontario, 78% of transgender people had considered it in their lifetime. 36% in just the year prior to the survey. Statistics are hard to come by, and you always fear bias.
Consider also what we know about erasure of transgender identities.
The Transgender Day of Remembrance on November 20 seeks to raise awareness of how many transgender people are murdered around the world because of who they are. Trouble is, in counting those deaths, we have to wade through the headlines, even through the articles, and investigate right into their lives to find out that they were transgender, and need to be counted.
September was Suicide Awareness Month, and today I read this article, about two more deaths on September 28th.
The challenge in understanding this epidemic (yes, it is an epidemic) is erasure. Erasure of transgender identities in the media, and by families ashamed of their loved ones' true identities.
Now, erasure is a term we hear a lot in social justice circles, and not everyone might really understand what it is. Quite simply, it is when media or family choose to ignore a transgender person's true identity, and instead publish headlines and obituaries under the name and gender they were declared at birth.
In the case of media, sometimes this is because so many trans people are unable to get their documentation updated - in Ontario it's an issue of privilege. Even though we are fully "allowed" to by our government, it still costs $137 to just change our name. For a great many transgender people, that's their grocery money. So it goes unattended, and they are misnamed and misgendered quite often institutionally.
In the case of family, the rejection of their transgender identity is so strong that the family feels justified in "reclaiming" their name and gender assigned at birth, obituaries are posted that again misname and misgender. People are buried cross-dressed against their felt identities to conform to how they were assigned at birth.
Being transgender myself, suicidal ideation was something I didn't even realize I was doing, and I had no idea how prevalent it was. Working with the community, I see the truth in the numbers that TransPulse published in 2010 reflected in the people I work with.
So let me bring this together.
I don't think the public really understands how much of an epidemic suicidality is among transgender people, but they are starting to see stories emerge in the media. They see these stats like I posted above, but stats are just numbers. We see record numbers of transgender people coming forward in our Gender Journeys programming, and in groups like PFLAG. Transgender identities are still poorly understood by the public, but they are better understood now than they ever have been in the history of humanity.
And we are finally seeing some degree of compassion emerge.
As we hold the media more accountable for respecting transgender identities, and as families become less ashamed of their loved ones' true identities, I believe we will finally begin to see the extent of this epidemic.
My hope is that visibility will bring more compassion, and people will finally see what those of us working in the community have seen all along.
Transgender suicidality, and a whole array of mental health concerns, come from people not being acknowledged by their families, society around them, as who they are. Being constantly denied their identity by other people who believe they know better. Even denied institutionally by religious faiths that refuse to acknowledge and promote so-called "reparative" therapy.
Transphobia will continue to exist, as other forms of oppression like racism, but at least we have a public narrative now that racism must not be tolerated.
So when it seems that more and more transgender people are in the headlines, and suicidality seems to be on the rise, understand that it always was there, that you are finally starting to see the extent of our concern.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Femininity
Over my life, I've had various understandings of femininity.
As someone who was raised as a boy, my idea of femininity was first formed by observing how my sisters, my mother, girls at school, and women in society were treated by those around them.
It was not particularly informative, and superficial. Hence, my initial understanding became superficial, as you might expect.
I had no knowledge of feminism. Of oppression.
The introduction of testosterone into my body at puberty brought me many masculine family traits. My bone structure, upper body size, hair growth and the like.
I began to become aware as an observer of misogyny, but my understanding was fleeting, again superficial.
As I came to understand my felt gender, I would try and overcome that which I learned and how I had grown through hyper-feminine expression.
As I've explained to some, my attempts to bury that person I saw in the mirror under makeup and clothes, like a child drowning their pancakes in syrup, was over-compensating, naive.
Within the crossdressing community, I revelled in being able to explore this expression.
My understanding of misogyny grew, as I saw first-hand how boys and men were hated by others and even themselves for choosing to express femininity.
As I underwent my social transition, and I progressed to living in our society in my felt gender, my concerns shifted to adaptation - to learning how to move about in public without attracting unwanted attention.
Within the crossdressing community, I saw others begin their exploration, watched others and participated in encouraging others to "pass".
And then through my physical transition, I begun questioning gender itself. It's composition.
I began to understand a deeper idea of feminism. Of misogyny. Of trans-misogyny. Of oppression.
Within the crossdressing community, I saw others express the sentiment that those of us post-transition just didn't put enough effort into our presentation. I began feeling alienated. Even expressly invited to leave. The irony was that without the crossdressing community, I would never have mustered the courage needed to try life in my felt gender. I wouldn't be here but for it.
And now, I am far enough into my transition that I no longer have those daily reminders of my gender history. Mostly, I see myself. Imperfect, but genuine. Clothing doesn't affect it. Makeup doesn't affect it. I'm removed enough from my dysphoria that I can leave the house without makeup for a quick trip to the corner store. I could easily slip into a suit, and just be a woman wearing a suit.
But I don't feel like I've "arrived".
I still feel like the words of others have undue bearing on me. I hear the words that family and friends had spoken to and around me during my transition echoed by strangers with similar sentiments. Will I have arrived if these words no longer shift my balance?
I still feel like I am missing things that mothers teach their daughters, that girls teach each other when they're young. Will I have arrived when I know these things?
Or, am I the person standing on the platform after the train has left, not realizing that I had already de-trained, looking around me trying to make sense of the station.
Not knowing the balance I have because I'm not being pushed off it.
Unable to see my unknown knowns.
As someone who was raised as a boy, my idea of femininity was first formed by observing how my sisters, my mother, girls at school, and women in society were treated by those around them.
It was not particularly informative, and superficial. Hence, my initial understanding became superficial, as you might expect.
I had no knowledge of feminism. Of oppression.
The introduction of testosterone into my body at puberty brought me many masculine family traits. My bone structure, upper body size, hair growth and the like.
I began to become aware as an observer of misogyny, but my understanding was fleeting, again superficial.
As I came to understand my felt gender, I would try and overcome that which I learned and how I had grown through hyper-feminine expression.
As I've explained to some, my attempts to bury that person I saw in the mirror under makeup and clothes, like a child drowning their pancakes in syrup, was over-compensating, naive.
Within the crossdressing community, I revelled in being able to explore this expression.
My understanding of misogyny grew, as I saw first-hand how boys and men were hated by others and even themselves for choosing to express femininity.
As I underwent my social transition, and I progressed to living in our society in my felt gender, my concerns shifted to adaptation - to learning how to move about in public without attracting unwanted attention.
Within the crossdressing community, I saw others begin their exploration, watched others and participated in encouraging others to "pass".
And then through my physical transition, I begun questioning gender itself. It's composition.
I began to understand a deeper idea of feminism. Of misogyny. Of trans-misogyny. Of oppression.
Within the crossdressing community, I saw others express the sentiment that those of us post-transition just didn't put enough effort into our presentation. I began feeling alienated. Even expressly invited to leave. The irony was that without the crossdressing community, I would never have mustered the courage needed to try life in my felt gender. I wouldn't be here but for it.
And now, I am far enough into my transition that I no longer have those daily reminders of my gender history. Mostly, I see myself. Imperfect, but genuine. Clothing doesn't affect it. Makeup doesn't affect it. I'm removed enough from my dysphoria that I can leave the house without makeup for a quick trip to the corner store. I could easily slip into a suit, and just be a woman wearing a suit.
But I don't feel like I've "arrived".
I still feel like the words of others have undue bearing on me. I hear the words that family and friends had spoken to and around me during my transition echoed by strangers with similar sentiments. Will I have arrived if these words no longer shift my balance?
I still feel like I am missing things that mothers teach their daughters, that girls teach each other when they're young. Will I have arrived when I know these things?
Or, am I the person standing on the platform after the train has left, not realizing that I had already de-trained, looking around me trying to make sense of the station.
Not knowing the balance I have because I'm not being pushed off it.
Unable to see my unknown knowns.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Speech for IDAHT Flag Raisings Across Durham Region
 |
| Last Flag Raising in Clarington @ 3pm |
Good morning, my name is Stacey Vetzal and I am the Vice President of PFLAG Canada Durham Region. I am so excited to see all of you here today.
This flag represents so many things to so many people. I am honoured to be standing here in front of all of you on this International Day against Homophobia and Transphobia to raise this flag, and make our communities visible.
About International Day against Homophobia
While the laws in Ontario say that we must not discriminate against our LGBTQ communities, I am sad to say that this sentiment is still not universal in our day to day lives, and won’t be until we have wiped out homophobia and transphobia.
As a step towards world-wide change, this day is known as International Day against Homophobia and Transphobia, to bring to mind the struggle we face in bringing equality to all people, no matter their sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression.
We still live in a world where many people are unable to live their authentic lives, hiding their sexual orientation and gender identities, wearing a mask and role-playing to protect themselves from family, friends, and discrimination in the workplace.
We are here, and we raise this flag, because we believe it is time for this struggle to end.
This day is not just another day to highlight the struggle this community faces, but it is also a celebration for how far we have come, especially as a community.
Today is all about hoping for an inclusive world.
Staying silent in the presence of homophobia and transphobia means being an accomplice, complicit. It should be denounced each and every time we witness it. It is our personal, social, and civic responsibility to do so.
Today we make this flag visible, and give hope for all those in our community who are unable to be visible themselves.
Conclusion
I want to sincerely thank each and every one of you for coming today and showing your support for inspiring change. We have come a long way and this wouldn’t be possible without all of you.
And on behalf of our community, I ask you all to make an active choice and make every day a day against homophobia and transphobia.
About International Day against Homophobia
While the laws in Ontario say that we must not discriminate against our LGBTQ communities, I am sad to say that this sentiment is still not universal in our day to day lives, and won’t be until we have wiped out homophobia and transphobia.
As a step towards world-wide change, this day is known as International Day against Homophobia and Transphobia, to bring to mind the struggle we face in bringing equality to all people, no matter their sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression.
We still live in a world where many people are unable to live their authentic lives, hiding their sexual orientation and gender identities, wearing a mask and role-playing to protect themselves from family, friends, and discrimination in the workplace.
We are here, and we raise this flag, because we believe it is time for this struggle to end.
This day is not just another day to highlight the struggle this community faces, but it is also a celebration for how far we have come, especially as a community.
Today is all about hoping for an inclusive world.
Staying silent in the presence of homophobia and transphobia means being an accomplice, complicit. It should be denounced each and every time we witness it. It is our personal, social, and civic responsibility to do so.
Today we make this flag visible, and give hope for all those in our community who are unable to be visible themselves.
Conclusion
I want to sincerely thank each and every one of you for coming today and showing your support for inspiring change. We have come a long way and this wouldn’t be possible without all of you.
And on behalf of our community, I ask you all to make an active choice and make every day a day against homophobia and transphobia.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Journalism
This post came across my feed this morning:
http://www.shakesville.com/2014/01/careless-cruel-and-unaccountable.html
It calls an article "Careless Cruel and Unaccountable" in its exposure of a trans-woman, living in stealth, who invented a new and unconventional golf putter.
Naturally, I had to read the article for myself.
http://grantland.com/features/a-mysterious-physicist-golf-club-dr-v/
The original article starts off reading like an interesting piece of investigative journalism. Then, the author mechanically picks apart a trans woman's desperate attempt at keeping her privacy and dignity intact and outs her to the world, in the name of the same spirit of investigative journalism. I felt a tangible drop and sickening in my stomach when the line was crossed in the story.
When you just want to live your life, free of the animosity, bigotry, hatred, and fear that the general public can have for a trans woman, you have little choice but to go "stealth". To abandon everything you once were, everyone you loved and who loved you, your entire history, to become who you desperately need to be, because not doing so means your life is not worth living.
In fact, I'm not sure it's even been 10 years since THIS WAS THE EXPECTED COURSE OF ACTION OF A TRANSGENDER PERSON IN ORDER TO RECEIVE MEDICAL TREATMENT.
OK, the inhumanity of all that aside, let's look at this from a practical standpoint.
It is impossible to truly achieve stealth.
Every step of your life, your identity is documented. School records. Work records. Accomplishments. All of them have your name attached, some your birth sex, and few if any organizations are willing to audit their records to reflect your new corrected information.
Recently, a friend of mine experienced the epitome of this. She had completed sex reassignment surgery, and went to have her birth certificate corrected to reflect her actual gender rather than the birth defect that was visible prompting the doctor to declare her male. When she filled out the government forms for change of gender, attached her signed affidavits from the surgeon regarding her corrected body, she got back a photocopy where they had literally taken a pen and crossed out the original information and wrote in the change.
This was her birth certificate. That piece of documentation she needed to produce to obtain insignificant things like a Passport.
How difficult would it have been for them to simply fill in a new form with the corrected information, and preserve her dignity?
Thus is the life of a trans person. Dealing with disclosure every single time we deal with institutions. "Umm, yes, don't pay attention to that, just please make sure my passport says 'F'."
The problem that the trans community has with this article is with the fact that this particular "mystery" is one that ethically SHOULD NOT BE unravelled. It is one that de-humanizes a person. Turns the truth into what appears to be a fabrication.
WHEN, IN FACT, THE FABRICATION WAS THE ORIGINAL DOCUMENTATION.
Indeed Dr. V. saw this coming, and that was her original wish.
The story and tragedy of Dr. V. should remain a mystery, to preserve her dignity and humanity.
http://www.shakesville.com/2014/01/careless-cruel-and-unaccountable.html
It calls an article "Careless Cruel and Unaccountable" in its exposure of a trans-woman, living in stealth, who invented a new and unconventional golf putter.
Naturally, I had to read the article for myself.
http://grantland.com/features/a-mysterious-physicist-golf-club-dr-v/
The original article starts off reading like an interesting piece of investigative journalism. Then, the author mechanically picks apart a trans woman's desperate attempt at keeping her privacy and dignity intact and outs her to the world, in the name of the same spirit of investigative journalism. I felt a tangible drop and sickening in my stomach when the line was crossed in the story.
When you just want to live your life, free of the animosity, bigotry, hatred, and fear that the general public can have for a trans woman, you have little choice but to go "stealth". To abandon everything you once were, everyone you loved and who loved you, your entire history, to become who you desperately need to be, because not doing so means your life is not worth living.
In fact, I'm not sure it's even been 10 years since THIS WAS THE EXPECTED COURSE OF ACTION OF A TRANSGENDER PERSON IN ORDER TO RECEIVE MEDICAL TREATMENT.
OK, the inhumanity of all that aside, let's look at this from a practical standpoint.
It is impossible to truly achieve stealth.
Every step of your life, your identity is documented. School records. Work records. Accomplishments. All of them have your name attached, some your birth sex, and few if any organizations are willing to audit their records to reflect your new corrected information.
Recently, a friend of mine experienced the epitome of this. She had completed sex reassignment surgery, and went to have her birth certificate corrected to reflect her actual gender rather than the birth defect that was visible prompting the doctor to declare her male. When she filled out the government forms for change of gender, attached her signed affidavits from the surgeon regarding her corrected body, she got back a photocopy where they had literally taken a pen and crossed out the original information and wrote in the change.
This was her birth certificate. That piece of documentation she needed to produce to obtain insignificant things like a Passport.
How difficult would it have been for them to simply fill in a new form with the corrected information, and preserve her dignity?
Thus is the life of a trans person. Dealing with disclosure every single time we deal with institutions. "Umm, yes, don't pay attention to that, just please make sure my passport says 'F'."
The problem that the trans community has with this article is with the fact that this particular "mystery" is one that ethically SHOULD NOT BE unravelled. It is one that de-humanizes a person. Turns the truth into what appears to be a fabrication.
WHEN, IN FACT, THE FABRICATION WAS THE ORIGINAL DOCUMENTATION.
Indeed Dr. V. saw this coming, and that was her original wish.
The story and tragedy of Dr. V. should remain a mystery, to preserve her dignity and humanity.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Reflecting on Women In Technology
I just got back from wrapping up our table at the Girls Inc. "Re::thinc Girls" conference in Ajax. The goal of the conference was to inspire young women who might consider careers in technology.It was a well organized event, if perhaps a bit short, and we had a good size crowd of people.
I see in my business a disparity between the number of male and female applicants for positions. It seems we expect a female population of 20% in Science, Technology, Engineering and Math (STEM) fields. I can certainly support that from my experience.
I've been thinking about my place in a conference like this for a while now. My journey here has been very different than most women.
Being born male, and growing up when I did, I was encouraged to explore technology. My parents supported my participation in the local computer club, the computer fairs at school, they gave me space to explore and develop this passion. It has defined who I am as a professional today.
For cis girls, they have to overcome various social stigmas and expectations in order to stand up and declare their interest in a STEM field. They have to endure being so tremendously outnumbered in these fields, the misogyny that accompanies that. "Brogrammers" is a newfangled term that makes my blood boil.
So many professional women we see in this field represent a victory over circumstance.
But it's a different story for me. My challenge was a different victory over a different circumstance.
Girls didn't like math. Girls didn't like technology. I did, therefore I couldn't be a girl. Easy, right?
Even today, someone at the conference stated that boys like technology for technology's sake, girls like it for the social aspect. Bollocks!
I don't know how much of an inspiration I could be to a young woman considering a STEM career, given that at some level I have to attribute much of my existence here now to male privilege. As angry as that makes me. As much as I'd like to be that inspiration. As much as I feel like I have an obligation to be.
I had a conversation with an acquaintance earlier this week, it was a powerful moment for me. She was struggling with the idea of presenting that generic professional image to the world in order to take the next step in her career. She was worried about how much of herself to bring to her professional life.
It struck me hard. I saw myself in this struggle, my transition. How much of myself do I bring to the world? The answer to that question for me was once "as little as possible," I hid behind my interest in technology like it was a shield, believing that it would hide my true self.
My answer this week, of course, was that you must bring all of yourself. We are the whole breadth and depth of who we are, not just some professional façade. When we suppress any part of ourselves, we lose authenticity, we don't engage as well as we might have, we are incomplete.
We show our brilliance when we engage our whole selves.
So here I am, a professional woman, an entrepreneur with a history of starting technology businesses, hoping to inspire youth of all genders to consider a career in a STEM field. To bring their whole selves into it, to forget about what the world tells you you can or cannot do, whether it's based on gender, race, age, or whatever.
If only I'd known when I was young that girls could do this.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Two Years
So, this week marks two years since I did my social transition.
The timeline over which a trans person transitions is different for all of us. For me, I started with attending social groups 5 years ago, counselling and group therapy 4 years ago, hormone treatment 3 years ago, social transition 2 years ago, one year ago decided to move forward with Sex Reassignment Surgery (SRS), which I completed this year.
It's been 4 years since I came out to my daughters. It's been 3 years since I came out to my family of origin. Two years since I've seen my parents and younger sister. One year since I've seen my youngest sister.
My wife has been terrified, angry, sad, resigned, accepting, happy; a cycle that has repeated so many times over the years as she's come to terms with each step of my transition. Somehow she holds together.
At my business, I effectively withdrew from the business community 5 years ago, and then two years ago began emerging again.
A trans person's social transition is, in my opinion, their most vulnerable time. Looking back, I am so happy to have had the supports in my life that I had.
I learned some hard lessons over the years. Realizing where I can find support, and not. Realizing how hard it would hit me to have important people in my life unable to support me. Realizing I can't force the issue, deciding to withdraw.
But this week marks two years of rebuilding my life, after having torn it down and standing naked in front of the world. Living the monotony, joy, tears, anger, and fear of everyday life.
Two wonderfully authentic years.
The timeline over which a trans person transitions is different for all of us. For me, I started with attending social groups 5 years ago, counselling and group therapy 4 years ago, hormone treatment 3 years ago, social transition 2 years ago, one year ago decided to move forward with Sex Reassignment Surgery (SRS), which I completed this year.
It's been 4 years since I came out to my daughters. It's been 3 years since I came out to my family of origin. Two years since I've seen my parents and younger sister. One year since I've seen my youngest sister.
My wife has been terrified, angry, sad, resigned, accepting, happy; a cycle that has repeated so many times over the years as she's come to terms with each step of my transition. Somehow she holds together.
At my business, I effectively withdrew from the business community 5 years ago, and then two years ago began emerging again.
A trans person's social transition is, in my opinion, their most vulnerable time. Looking back, I am so happy to have had the supports in my life that I had.
I learned some hard lessons over the years. Realizing where I can find support, and not. Realizing how hard it would hit me to have important people in my life unable to support me. Realizing I can't force the issue, deciding to withdraw.
But this week marks two years of rebuilding my life, after having torn it down and standing naked in front of the world. Living the monotony, joy, tears, anger, and fear of everyday life.
Two wonderfully authentic years.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
One Year
It has been one year today that I let my façade slip away.
I haven't shared the past year with all the people I'd have liked to, but I take solace in having done this not to hurt others, but to stop hurting myself.
I have felt more free and alive than I have ever felt in my life the past year. Oh sure, life continues, money stuff, work stuff, family stuff. I used to have this shield, where I could plough through the roughest times oblivious to everything except my goal. Life became constantly living behind that shield until 4 years ago. Now, I feel connected to life. It hurts more, but the rewards are so much better.
The past year has led to possibly irreparable damage to my family of origin. Initial rejection, being told I was not welcome in my parents' house unless I put on my old act, led to more isolation and friction. My baby sister got married, and there wasn't the remotest possibility of being the part of it I wanted to be. My wife, increasingly frustrated by disrespectful comments and actions, lack of tolerance let alone acceptance, and my own reaction to the situation finally made her feelings known rather viciously, shattering long broken relationships. These days I sit amongst that rubble, catching the odd glimpse of back-chatter vitriol against my wife, against me, angry at all of them.
Despite all this, my year has been amazing. My business celebrated 10 years in January, a huge accomplishment, some wonderfully supportive cousins attended and brought flowers and best wishes from my aunt and uncle who were in Florida. My business is a political centrepiece for high-tech and innovation in the region, they have a flyer for us, and I have spoken at conferences. Five years ago I receded from public view, but burst forth with new energy last fall and not only regained lost ground, but gained so much new ground.
I attended my first wedding shower, alas not for my sister but for my cousin. I felt a little on display, but everyone was at least tolerant and most were wonderful. Even situations that couldn't be avoided like talking about my male childhood were no big deal. Having grown up without any social inclusion as my felt gender, this is one of the things that I've really been looking forward to.
More and more I don't think people realize I'm transgender, which raises a little fear that I'm somehow perpetuating the "transgender deceiver" fiction. It may just be that this fear is echoing the undertone I feel from my family of origin (who "know better"). On the other hand, for the first time in my life people are seeing who I am, and accepting me for that. I had thought the affirmation in this I'd felt years ago when I began going out as my felt gender would diminish over time. I've been surprised that in some respects it has become stronger. Of course, this is only year 1... ask me again at year 10.
I'm volunteering more in situations that matter, my involvement with the community, helping in peer support situations, with youth. I don't know if it's me or what, but there seems to be an outpouring of people who are gaining the courage to question and talk about their gender. Of course, I've stepped into the fountain and turned on the water, maybe I shouldn't be surprised to get wet :) I can only imagine how my life would have been different growing up in today's climate. I refrain from saying these kids have it easier, there is nothing easy about this journey.
My fear of hospitals has receded a little. I caused confusion, but was treated with tremendous respect at Sunnybrook at my cancer follow-up in June. Despite this, I still feel life will be smoother in a body that is more congruous with who I am, especially as I age. I will be proceeding with GRS in the next year, which officially makes me pre-op - gotta love labels.
So time will tell what the next year holds for me. One thing I know for sure, it will be me that greets it.
I haven't shared the past year with all the people I'd have liked to, but I take solace in having done this not to hurt others, but to stop hurting myself.
I have felt more free and alive than I have ever felt in my life the past year. Oh sure, life continues, money stuff, work stuff, family stuff. I used to have this shield, where I could plough through the roughest times oblivious to everything except my goal. Life became constantly living behind that shield until 4 years ago. Now, I feel connected to life. It hurts more, but the rewards are so much better.
The past year has led to possibly irreparable damage to my family of origin. Initial rejection, being told I was not welcome in my parents' house unless I put on my old act, led to more isolation and friction. My baby sister got married, and there wasn't the remotest possibility of being the part of it I wanted to be. My wife, increasingly frustrated by disrespectful comments and actions, lack of tolerance let alone acceptance, and my own reaction to the situation finally made her feelings known rather viciously, shattering long broken relationships. These days I sit amongst that rubble, catching the odd glimpse of back-chatter vitriol against my wife, against me, angry at all of them.
Despite all this, my year has been amazing. My business celebrated 10 years in January, a huge accomplishment, some wonderfully supportive cousins attended and brought flowers and best wishes from my aunt and uncle who were in Florida. My business is a political centrepiece for high-tech and innovation in the region, they have a flyer for us, and I have spoken at conferences. Five years ago I receded from public view, but burst forth with new energy last fall and not only regained lost ground, but gained so much new ground.
I attended my first wedding shower, alas not for my sister but for my cousin. I felt a little on display, but everyone was at least tolerant and most were wonderful. Even situations that couldn't be avoided like talking about my male childhood were no big deal. Having grown up without any social inclusion as my felt gender, this is one of the things that I've really been looking forward to.
More and more I don't think people realize I'm transgender, which raises a little fear that I'm somehow perpetuating the "transgender deceiver" fiction. It may just be that this fear is echoing the undertone I feel from my family of origin (who "know better"). On the other hand, for the first time in my life people are seeing who I am, and accepting me for that. I had thought the affirmation in this I'd felt years ago when I began going out as my felt gender would diminish over time. I've been surprised that in some respects it has become stronger. Of course, this is only year 1... ask me again at year 10.
I'm volunteering more in situations that matter, my involvement with the community, helping in peer support situations, with youth. I don't know if it's me or what, but there seems to be an outpouring of people who are gaining the courage to question and talk about their gender. Of course, I've stepped into the fountain and turned on the water, maybe I shouldn't be surprised to get wet :) I can only imagine how my life would have been different growing up in today's climate. I refrain from saying these kids have it easier, there is nothing easy about this journey.
My fear of hospitals has receded a little. I caused confusion, but was treated with tremendous respect at Sunnybrook at my cancer follow-up in June. Despite this, I still feel life will be smoother in a body that is more congruous with who I am, especially as I age. I will be proceeding with GRS in the next year, which officially makes me pre-op - gotta love labels.
So time will tell what the next year holds for me. One thing I know for sure, it will be me that greets it.
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