I have been a member of the LGBTQ+ community from before I understood what that meant. I remember being three years old and thinking that I was a boy. It was what made sense to me and my body. I constantly wanted to run around in shorts and no top on, even when I was supposed to dress “properly”. I also hated dresses and would cry when I had to put one on. It was as if I had an innate fear of dresses, or adverse reaction when I had to wear a dress for church or family photo day – I can’t explain it, I simply detested it. I would always be teary eyed making my way to the Sears photo studio with my family who had tried so hard to get me into beautiful velveteen dresses and frilly frocks for a wholesome family photo. As I grew up and developed, I wanted to be a boy, so I would do things like stuff socks down my pants and go to school. I felt I was relegated to being a lesbian, even though that was not how I identified, though it seemed to be the closest thing that people could understand in order to make sense of me in the world. I was a tom boy growing up and would be described as a butch woman. I remember my Aunt Bernice used to say to me, “I have a granddaughter just like you“. It was this unspoken way of acknowledging, “we know you are different” without saying gay, or lesbian, or trans. Also, bear in mind that I came of age in the mid-1990s in Thunder Bay, Ontario, so knowledge of HRT and sex reassignment surgeries and procedures were little known at that time. I remember watching an episode of Sally Jessy Raphael where a transman who came out on television to his friend. The friend was shocked and walked out on the transman during the episode as he felt lied to and betrayed. This was one of the first times I remember thinking there were people out there like me, and also that I was desperately afraid of them due to my own internalized homophobia and transphobia at the time.
When I was 27, and in university at Western in London, Ontario, I “came out” for the first time as having feelings of gender dysphoria and acknowledging that I may not, in fact, be a lesbian, but a transgender person. It was to my friend Christine at a park downtown and it wasn’t again until 8 years later that I finally took steps to transition from female-to-male when I was 35 in 2015. There is so much shame, guilt, pain and repression that I experienced, and that I know many others cope with on a daily basis as well. By the time I came out as trans I was already fully out as a lesbian among my friends and colleagues. However, embarking on a journey to be honest with myself and own who I am as a transgender person took a long time to come to fruition for me. I am still awaiting top surgery, but have been on HRT since June 21st, 2015 – summer solstice, which was symbolic for me. In university, I studied transgender employment discrimination and the everyday trauma of queer life. I advocate regularly for LGBTQ+ issues and have sat on panels discussing transgender identity in Canada’s healthcare system.
One of the most important pieces of advice or encouragement I received was when I worked at Free The Children (now WE Charity). When I worked there in 2015, I had to come out to the whole organization – this was over 500 people. So, my manager reviewed a letter I had drafted and it was circulated among employees. Our staff was incredibly supportive and, with everything, there were mixed feelings and some folks that steered clear of me after the announcement. Which, I suppose, is part of the process. Immediately after sending the letter I received a phone call from Renee, an career coach who worked in the HR Department. She immediately asked if I would have a coffee with her, so we went down to Scullery and had a coffee. She told me a very personal story of her own journey of living in Europe for over 5 years at a convent where she was practicing to become a nun. After many years of devout faith and spiritual practice, the Mother Superior invited Renee into a meeting where she plainly asked her why she was there. Renee burst into tears and realized that this was not the calling she was meant to fulfill in her life. She then told me how difficult it was for her to come back to Canada and to face the expectations of those around her who expected her to live a devout religious life and to come to terms with a new direction. She said, “you have to meet people where they are at”. And, I never forgot that. It is advice that is sound, not only for meeting others, but also for compassionately and empathetically meeting yourself where you are at in your own journey.
This single sentence – resounding with pitch and gravity – was instrumental in allowing me to let go of things from the past and to move forward in my own life, in what finally felt to me to be coming (or “becoming”) into myself and my body. I can sincerely say that as a transman I have never felt happier. And, while life is never perfect, I feel more at home in by body than I ever have before. For youth who may be reading this, accept and love who you are and meet yourself and others where they are at. It is all we can do to meet in communion and move forward as people and society without the shackles of guilt and shame.
