As I transitioned and told people that I was transgender, the one thing that amazed me was that telling people never seemed to get easier. No matter how many times I came out, it was always hard.
Yet while it never got easier, sometimes it got harder. One the most difficult times came when I had to tell the people I worked with. Unlike most of my coming out, these were done in person, not online. It was so hard to tell my boss, that I didn't - instead I wrote a two page letter, handed it to her, and watched while she read it.
That turned out to be the easy one. When it came time to transition, I had to tell people in person two more times - my colleagues on the company's leadership team and the team of developers that I lead. I suppose I could have told everyone in writing, but it was important to me that the people I worked closely with hear it from me in person, face to face. If I couldn't tell them in person, how would I be able to work with them? (If necessary, I would have told the entire company, but my boss and the HR people convinced me that was above and beyond the call of duty.)
Telling the leadership team was hard - it was a special early meeting, scheduled suddenly, and with at least a little mystery, complete with our Trans 101 trainer in attendance. I began, and it was one of those times where you just have to keep going, because if you let yourself stop, even for a second, you know you won't be able to start again, and you'll be lost. As I finished I felt the familiar emptiness inside as I wondered if they would accept me and my news. As I later found out, one response was thinking, "oh, is that all? I thought you were leaving the company!"
But telling my team was the hardest. I was leading a team of a half dozen developers and system administrators, the people in the company I was closest to. It was the end of the day as we sat down for what they had been told was "Diversity and Inclusion Training." I explained that the subject of the diversity and inclusion was me. I went on to tell them that I was a transgender woman, how I had fought it for years, and how by transitioning I was choosing life. I made it clear that our professional relationship would continue as before, other than changing pronouns.
As I spoke I kept scanning the faces around the room. The faces were solemn, some occasionally encouraging. Except for one.
One of my listeners started to smile very early on, and that smile grew as I spoke, until by the time I finished, she was positively beaming. As I left the room for the trainer to take over, and made my way home, I didn't quite know what to make of that huge grin.
Later that evening I found out. The owner of that huge grin was Daniela, who was one of the first people we'd hired into the department. She was Bulgarian, and she used to joke with me about people from the Balkans being headstrong. When I'd left the room I honestly wasn't completely sure whether she was smiling for me or laughing at me, but her email that night was clear.
The subject was "Congratulations" and in it she said:
Dear Naomi,
I am writing this email not because you are responsible for the raise of my salary, for approving my days off and allowances for Python classes, not because it is professional or because I am expected to do so or say so, not because I spend a third of my day sitting 5 feet from you(or maybe less) but simply because I wanted to say how extremely very happy I am for you... After 2 years in Greece you probably know those Balkan types - we say what we think... :)
Once upon the time I was miserable and unhappy for years - I don't even want to remember that time - and once I made the "big decision" to take my life in my own hands and get rid of the misery - life started making sense again and there was no living human being on this world that can erase the smile from my face. I hope the same will happen to you soon (if it is not happening already) and all the fear about acceptance and the surrounding world will be just part of the past. I know we all like you for who you are, and we will like you even more because you will be happy too - no matter how you look or what name you have. I can also argue about the courage part - it does take a hell lot of courage to do what you are doing - it is so much easier to be miserable and find excuses not to do anything.
I tend to lose my words (which are not very English-y anyways) that's why I wanted to write to you and say Happy Birthday - I am just worried that if I say it I may mess up the words and I may say something wrong. So once again - I am very happy for you, I am glad you decided to do that and I hope you will be very very happy finally being who you really are. Cheers for you and all the happy future moments... :)
Congratulations for your Birthday, cheers and good luck :) You were very serious today - I hope the next time I see you you will be smiling :) I hope it is not unprofessional of me to write such an email to their boss - but once again - Balkans, what can you do :)
In spite of her apologies for her English and for her Balkan directness, Daniela's note had something very important and deeply heartening, something I needed. Daniela's message is not one of support in the face of adversity. It's not condolences and sympathy for someone facing misfortune. Instead, in my life and hers Daniela saw a shared experience - we both had taken our lives in our own hands to get rid of the misery. And in that shared experience she knew the outcome was joy.
Many times trans people get messages that express support for us and sympathy at how hard things must be for us. And those messages are valued because of the genuine caring behind them. But far more precious is joy. Joy at who we are and joy at our having the courage to embrace ourselves. Joy.
So thank you, Daniela. Your message was more important and read more times than you might imagine. And here's to our smiles that no one on this world can erase.
