When I first started telling friends about Jessica, I was starting to feel really good about the relief of more and more people knowing. This was maybe 13 years ago. I was building a support system, and I wasn’t having any bad reactions. It was addictive. I reasoned, that I should tell everyone I knew. It’d be great, I told myself.
Then one friend off handedly said, “you know, you don’t have to tell everyone.” My protector side instantly bonded with that sentiment. He’s right. Why risk ruining a good thing. You’ve got maybe 20 people that know now, that’s enough. You’re happier right?
I still kind of regret not going all the way with it back then. It’s not a full regret, because society has changed a lot in the last 13 years for the better for the trans community.
Anyway, jump ahead 13 years, and a ton of frustration had built up. Jessica was not getting what she needed. She (I) wanted to be accepted as a woman. I wanted to relate to people as a woman, and be related to in that way. I wanted to express myself to the world. But all I had was 20 friends and family. And at most, I’d only ever had a chance to be around a dozen people as Jessica. Don’t get me wrong, that was great for me, but such a rare occurrence.
Listening to that book by George Carlin made me resolve to be truer to myself. I’m still making steps in being true to myself, but I am making those steps. Anyway, I decided to give the coming out thing another go.
I started with my Dad. It wasn’t an overly long email (to date, I’ve only ever told people by email or via Facebook messages). I did change something from the last time I tried coming out. I started to use the word ‘transgender’. Previously, I was just telling people I was a cross dresser. I just had a large feminine side, and needed to express it on occasion. What a wonderful lie that was. So close to the truth, but far enough from reality that I felt safe. I totally believed this lie for the longest time.
Changing words went along with a slight change in my view of self. I started to see myself as having a dual nature. That instead of a feminine side to my male gender, I was female sometimes in my mind, and male at other times. I think at this point, my protector was grasping for anything that would rationally fit to keep my world together the way it was.
So, Dad took the news well enough, and I moved on to other family members that did not know about Jessica. Siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and beyond were told. All the reactions were accepting and some were supportive as well. Next up was the wife’s family. This was a bit more daunting. These people did not know me as well, and had mostly to trust that Teresa had chosen well for herself. Their reactions as well were very accepting and reassuring.
Next I tackled my friends list on Facebook. High school friends and acquaintances. I started sending about 15 or so messages at a time. Then something odd happened. One of the friends had started to ask other friends whether they had gotten any strange messages lately. There was concern that my account may have been hacked. This reaction still intrigues me. I guess it makes sense when you think about the fact that the friend in question is a police officer. It’s still a better reaction than rejection. It’s a reaction of concern.
After sorting out that I was, indeed, not hacked, the acceptance started to pour in. Some friends never responded to the message, but most did. Some made their acceptance known in other ways, by liking subsequent Facebook posts or similar. Not one removed themselves from my friends list, so I take that as positive. Even friends of a religious nature were accepting – praying for my happiness, not against me being a transgender individual, if praying came up at all.
Once the Facebook friends list was done, I was going to start working on co-workers. I HAD to tell everyone. I was so tired of being a secret, and the opposite of a secret is something that everyone knows. Once again, that same friend, that years ago stopped me in my tracks, made the same remark, “you don’t have to tell everyone.” But this time my reply was, “yes, in fact, I do.”
With co-workers done, and accepting – even to the point of asking if I needed anything or if they needed to do anything if I was transitioning. I scrounged the last of any contact information I had and made sure I had told everyone that I was able to. (there was an exception to this, but I’ll get to that in another entry).
I was finally done. I felt an IMMENSE sense of relief. I felt lighter, like a huge weight had been lifted off of me (in essence there was a huge mental weight holding me down). I was definitely on a happiness high. I still am to a large degree. I felt freed, liberated. I had finally broken down my defences and come out. Or so I thought.