Carl - A "PyCon Friend"

Carl - A "PyCon Friend"

The first story of coming out is from Carl. Carl and I met at PyCon a few years ago, and we have become "PyCon friends." We see each other in person once a year at PyCon, and we interact sporadically with each other on Twitter and Facebook. In spite of our somewhat infrequent contact, I would say our friendship is genuine.

Carl is middle aged, low key, and his appearance tends to support his own description of himself as conservative. He is also so  self-deprecating that I sometimes want to shake him. 

And yet Carl is the first person I'm writing about in series. That's for the very simple reason that when the word got out that I was considering this project, he immediately sent me the messages we had exchanged when I told him about my transition, along with the following note:

Naomi,

I saw your idea for recording the reactions of people learning about your trans status (I think it was on twitter).

Disclaimer:  I am not that important nor that smart or accomplished.

Nonetheless, the exchange below fits into the "breaking the ice" type of experience, support, etc. that you are talking about.

If you want to use this for anything trans-related or related to the project, you have my permission to use my identity, my situation (the loss of my wife to suicide), etc. for the project.  I'd rather not have my e-mail published for spam reasons. But if a non-anonymous e-mail is a sign of solidarity with you or the trans movement, I will happily suffer the spam.

Thanks for being you.

Carl

See what I mean about the self-deprecation? But even so, it's pretty clear that Carl is a genuinely good guy.

I don't know when I would have come out to Carl, if I hadn't gotten an email from him about a month before my transition. It was an appeal for donations to a suicide prevention walk he was doing. In it he mentioned that he had fairly recently lost his wife to suicide, but the hook of  his appeal was a joke about how he needed to raise a certain amount of money to get the T-shirt. (Yeah, guys are like that sometimes, god love 'em.)

I really wanted to express my sympathy over his loss, and to give a little to his cause, but it seemed false to do so as the old me, since the old me would be gone even before he did the walk. So along with my condolences and my donation, he got the unexpected news of my transition, and I wondered if I'd lost a PyCon friend.

I didn't have long to wait - in about two hours I had this in my inbox:

Thank you so much for your donation to the suicide foundation.

I haven't read your blog post yet, but I understand you must be going
through a lot.  The physical end of things, as I understand it, is
pretty challenging.  No doubt the emotional end is far more so.

I am totally ignorant about these things and will undoubtably say very
stupid, offensive things.  Try to remember that my intentions are good
and that I like you and think highly of you.

If I offer to take Naomi out to dinner or hit on her, try not to hate me.

Hang in there.  As long as they're not doing anything to that
genius brain of yours, everything will go fine!  All the best.

So I still had Carl as a PyCon friend. The line about taking Naomi out to dinner startled me. It implied that once I transitioned, he'd think of me as a woman, and that was something I'd told myself I shouldn't expect from anyone. 

When I recently asked him to describe his re-action to my news, Carl's answer was this:

I hope my further information/answer to your question isn't an affront
or hurtful in any way.  I always value honesty above all else - this
is a mixed bag:

1) I was surprised that you had anything "going on."  You seemed so
happy and upbeat.  I never would have known you had inner conflict.

2) Concern - I genuinely like you.  It's not a question of whether I
approve/disapprove/think it's normal/think it's not - it has
everything to do with "I hope Naomi gets through this OK."

Really, that's it.  The whole deal with your gender did not enter my
thought process (and, honestly, raised hard core Catholic, I will
probably always be in my gut socially conservative).  It was all about
someone I liked and respected and their welfare.  What can I say?
People (even oafish types like me) are complex.

Carl makes it clear that he didn't really know the "right" way to support me. In fact, he was pretty sure that he was going to do something wrong.  But when it came down to the heart of the matter he was right on:  "It's not a question of whether I approve/disapprove/think it's normal/think it's not ...  It was all about someone I liked and respected and their welfare."

Thanks, Carl, for your support and your friendship. See you at PyCon. 

A note about these stories

A note about these stories

A while ago I had the idea of sharing some of the stories of my coming out to people, and more importantly the beautiful reactions that I got. When I mentioned this on social media, it was clear that the idea resonated, with both trans and cisgender folks.

I think at first I was assuming some kind of book, but the more I thought about it, the more I decided that I wanted it to be easy to create, easily accessible to a wide audience, cheap or even free, and open to ongoing contributions, from others as well as myself. That doesn't describe a book at all, but it does pretty closely fit a blog.

Participation, Sharing, and Copyright

I'm starting stories from my own transition, because those are the ones I know. If someone else would like to add to them, just contact me, and we'll work that out. For the moment, everything that I publish here will be copyright under my name. I'm a big fan of more open content licenses, but I also believe that personal stories deserve to be a bit more closely guarded. Still, if you want to re-use a larger chunk of what's here than fair use would allow, please just contact me.

And finally, if anyone sees this and decides to steal the idea (and hopefully make it better), please do. Create your own blog, write a book, set up a YouTube channel, fill your Tumblr, whatever you like. If you help fill the world with positive stories of cisgender people accepting trans folk we will all be happier. Well, at least I will.

"There's something I need you to know about me..."

"There's something I need you to know about me."

So began several messages I sent to friends and acquaintances as I began my transition. The thing I needed them to know was that I was a transgender woman, a male to female transsexual. After too many years living as a male, I was finally accepting this fact and I wanted people to finally know the real me. And I also hoped that they would accept me.

While it was a good decision and I've never been more at peace, there are lots of things that are hard for trans women. And by hard, I mean very terrifyingly painfully gut-wrenchingly I-don't-know-if-I-can-do-this hard.

The hardest thing for many of us is to even admit we are trans. We deny it, we grasp at explanations that will prove we aren't trans, we self medicate with alcohol and other drugs, and we try to ignore it in the hope it will just go away. And when we finally realize it won't go away, we (least those of us who are female identified) have to push aside a lifetime of internalized misogyny and transphobia to painfully come to that admission. We have to admit that we are in fact what we have been taught to believe is the "lowest of the low" - not just a woman, but someone who couldn't handle being a man, and chose to live as a woman.

If admitting we're trans is the hardest part, the second hardest thing is what comes next - if we're going to transition we need to come out to our families, friends, and coworkers. I used to think of how easy transitioning would be if I didn't have to tell anyone. But I also knew that wouldn't be living a real life. And it's not just family, friends, and co-workiers. We also need to come out to our doctors, lawyers, neighbors, and even the librarian and the guy at the rental car counter.

So I came out to a lot of people before and shortly after my transition. I even developed a system for it. I had a blog post that told the basic story and when I needed to tell someone I would send an email or IM directing them there. But having a system didn't mean it ever got easier. Every time, I would pause, take a deep breath, and say goodbye to that person in my mind. Then I would hit 'send' and wait. I hoped that they would accept me, but I didn't expect it. Every single time I sent that message it felt like a farewell.

Almost always it wasn't a farewell. Most times the answers, your answers, came back full of warmth, support, and friendship. And to be honest, that helped me when I needed it most. After waking up at 4 am to lie in bed worrying about the future, getting up and reading your messages warmed me and fed me.

I never got over that dread of potential loss as I sent those coming out messages. But in fact coming out, or your responses to it, was a major positive force in my transition.

And that's why I want to share some of those stories. I want to share them with people who are yearning to transition, but are so scared of telling people, and with people who are in the process of transitioning and are lying awake worrying. People can and will accept and support you.

I also want to share these stories with non-trans people who've just gotten a coming out message from someone they never suspected and are now groping for a how and a why to guide their answer. Don't worry about saying something "wrong". A sincere and thoughtful message of support will mean the world to the person who just trusted you with this news, and who is now wondering if they've lost you.