First Place

I am a technology professional whose adult career has coincided with the internet era. Having gotten my start with PCs in school during the early 1980s and beyond, I’m quite comfortable with technology per se, and recognize the many improvements in efficiency that have been provided by the information revolution. (I like to think — having witnessed this revolution in its entirety — that I recognize what has been lost as well.)

That said, I would by no means qualify as an early adopter of technology. My first use of email (for internal business communication) came only in 1997, and my maiden visit to the internet was in 1998. I completed my first online retail purchase in 1999, and only began banking and investing online midway into the 2000s. I’m not interested in technology for technology’s sake, and am quite happy to tune out after the workday.

I still do not own a cell phone — “smart” or otherwise — and for many reasons, I have no plans to ever do so; home and office landlines suit me just fine. There are many people in my life who find the latter fact to be a significantly greater eccentricity than my sense of style. De gustibus non est disputandum, as the Romans would have said.

While I may not be on the cutting edge of technological use and adoption, I have been quite willing at times to take the lead and initiative in placing myself out in the open from a transgender perspective. After all, there ultimately does have to be a first time for everything in one’s life. Being an early adopter in this capacity has proven to be nothing but a blessing thus far.

Beginning in my mid-30s, I became increasingly willing to go out in various places where I felt comfortable, and was not likely to be recognized by name — or if so, then in venues that would be largely separate from my everyday life at that point. This included — but was not limited to — a public garden where I am a member, my salon, a dance studio, local retailers, and certain social events. After some years of favorable experience with this approach, I began to take the plunge more openly. The major breakthrough was about ten years ago, when I first came out at my church.

By then, I had been a parishioner for 20 years. I was also a volunteer for our website team, helping to maintain the design and content. One Saturday morning, I was reviewing the mission page content for our ladies group, and then the light bulb went off: Why not request to join? From attending prior events they had sponsored, the leader of the group knew my name and who I was. I composed a short email to her, with the group name in the subject line, and simply inquired whether there would be any place for me in the group. I chose my words very carefully, so that she understood I was inquiring with no sense of entitlement, and that I would bear no ill will if the answer ultimately was “no”.

The next day was Sunday, and Mother’s Day as well. Unlike the previous twenty years of Sundays, this time I chose to attire myself differently. My hair was softly styled, my face was made up, and I wore a basic cotton top in lilac, with a white cotton eyelet skirt and white sandals, with unmistakable — albeit contoured — curves, and appropriate jewelry. It took a few extra minutes to go outside, get in my car and drive to the church. (I made a point to arrive early, before almost anyone else was there, so I could enter with a minimum of distraction.)

After summoning the courage to open the door and step outside, I walked calmly across the quiet parking lot, entered the church, took my usual spot in the pew, prayed quietly for a minute or so, and sat down to read and wait for the service to begin. Over the next few minutes, people filed in, walked up and down past me, took their seats around me, and some certainly must have noticed or recognized me — but they didn’t gape, stare, or make any faces that I observed.

I participated during the service like I always had before, and throughout the entire time, I observed no apparent displeasure even from people who knew me. Everyone smiled whenever there was any eye contact. When the time came for Communion, I remained in the pew and just prayed quietly during the hymn. After the blessing, I waited calmly for people to filter out, and then I left too — weekly bulletin in hand — and went home for breakfast.

Later that evening, I received an email reply from the ladies group leader, beginning with a friendly hello, stating what a pleasant surprise it was to hear from me — and that I was indeed most welcome to join them! She called my attention to the annual Girls Night Out dinner scheduled for the following month, and made a point to invite me to attend. I thanked her very much and said I would certainly sign up. It proved to be a wonderful evening, and a pleasant re-debut to my fellow parishioners. Since then, I have remained an active member of the group, helping to organize and promote our social events.

This experience has served as a springboard for similar outing processes. Some years later, I came out at my workplace. A detailed story of how this occurred can be found here. With my return to onsite work in September 2021, followed by the restoration of normal operating conditions this past spring, I have become quite visible onsite. My presence is an accepted fact, and does not attract undue attention. My contributions are recognized and rewarded like anyone else.

As the first openly transgender employee at my privately-held, family-run establishment, I am conscious of setting a high professional and personal example, internally as well as with our external clients with whom I have daily interaction and visibility. Our department was recently highlighted on our internal newsletter, featuring photos of each individual team member — including yours truly, who submitted a current professional photograph with her longer hair and smiling, made-up face.

When two of our colleagues based in the South were onsite this past week, I found myself invited to join a “girls lunch” outing with them and several other ladies in the group. It was a very fun time with coworkers I don’t normally get to see. At one point, one of them even shared with us a photo of the bridesmaid dresses she had picked out for her upcoming wedding. It was relaxing and fun lunch, where I was clearly accepted as one of the girls. It’s experiences like that which remind me that transitioning was the right thing. If and when another transgender employee should join our company staff, she will benefit from my experiences.

So, while I may not be on the cutting edge of technology (and I am certainly not leadership material), being an early adopter from a transition standpoint has been nothing but beneficial. It has ultimately relaxed not just myself, but nearly everyone with whom I interact personally and professionally. People are attracted to confidence. If you are willing and able to accept some increased visibility in the short term, and respect your environment by making a sincere effort to fit in, you can be yourself and hold your head up in life.

Merry Christmas to everyone, and many blessings to you in the New Year!

Like to make a comment? Login here and use the comment area below.

Tags: featured, opinion, Transgender, Transition

Category: Transgender Opinion