As it turns out, there is something that can be done about it. I haven’t always known it was possible to transition, which I suppose makes me pretty naïve, but even so, up until now I’ve been too terrified to make it a reality anyway. It took time, lots of time, for me to build up the courage to admit to myself that it would be a mistake to continue living as a male, and to understand that any apprehensions that I had about doing anything to solve my problems were very much outweighed by the problems themselves, and the implications that they would have on my wellbeing for the rest of my life.
So I am doing something about it. I am transitioning from male to female. It’s the only cure for my condition, and despite being scared to death I am strong enough to take it on. Here’s what this means. It means that at some time in the future, I will no longer be living as or identifying as a male. It means that I will be undergoing hormone replacement therapy to cancel out my body’s male hormones with female ones. It means that I will be physically developing as a female. In short, it means that I will be a female.
It means that I will begin to dress as a female. It means that I will no longer be speaking with my deep male voice. It means that I’m going to be spending lots of money on hours and hours of painful electrolysis to remove my facial hair.
It also means that I will be undergoing a long process to change my official documentation in order to reflect my female identity, which will of course include a change of name. Soon enough, my name will be legally changed to Amy. After many hours agonising over what name to pick, Amy just feels right to me. My middle name will be Kate after my late grandmother.
Above all the rest, this is the part I want people to understand the most. This is the part where I’m going to pour my heart out, and where I’m probably going to cry a lot. This is the part where I want to make clear that this is not a choice. I am not deciding to become a girl. This is me allowing myself to be who I am, and it is the only route that I can take, because I am done lying about who I am. In transitioning from male to female, I am going to become a second-class citizen in the eyes of many people. I am going to be opening myself up to discrimination and hate. I am going to jeopardise my job security. I am opening myself up to abandonment and rejection by my partner, our children, my family and friends, which is not something that I would choose to do. I’m going to get into debt due to cosmetic and medical bills, and this is also not something that I would choose to do. Coming to terms with this has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it has constantly sent me into depression and loneliness. Nearly every personal problem that I’ve had over the course of my life, I can trace back, almost certainly, to supressed gender identity issues. Coming to this realisation and finding acceptance within myself has taken years, and even after that the fear and uncertainty of what to do about it made me desperately unhappy.
Coming out and actually telling someone ‘I’m transgender’ was a prospect far too scary to even consider. Instead I sank inside myself, jealous of people more brave than me, and all full of self-pity, and it’s all because I was too scared to just tell anyone that there was something wrong with me. It took being completely low, down, and beaten for me to finally tell my partner Tracey, who has been so supportive. I’ve put her through hell this last year or so and for that I’m truly sorry. Despite how scary it was, and despite how scary it still is, it will get easier, and that’s why now I’m able to close my eyes, hold my breath, and send this to all of you, something that I wasn’t sure I’d ever do.
I’m writing this letter to everyone in my life so that you all can know what I’m going through, because I feel like it would be unfair for you to not know. I know you didn’t ask for me to spill my heart out like this, and I know it may be shocking to even hear it. I don’t expect you to write back with encouragement, give me three cheers or be my support group. I just don’t want to give people the wrong impression of me anymore, and this letter is my first step in showing you who I really am. If this means you don’t want to talk to me or be around me anymore, that’s okay. I really do understand. I can’t ask for acceptance from everyone. I don’t even really expect it. I just want everyone to know who I am and why.
For the near future, know that my transition is under way. Things will be changing about my dress, my mannerisms, my voice, my looks, but keep in mind that beneath it all I’m still the same person. Same likes, same dislikes, same jokes (sorry about that), same tastes. I know it’s going to be strange, I know it’s going to be different, and I know most of you have never had to go through this before. It’s okay, neither have I. I know there will be awkward situations. I know I’ll be accidentally called Ian and referred to as a male, and I know it will feel weird having to correct yourself when it comes to these things. I expect it, and I’m fine with it. I also expect questions, lots and lots of questions, and I want them to be asked without fear. I’m an understanding person, and I understand how weird this might be for some of you, and I want to minimise that as much as I can for everyone’s sake.
I’m writing this to all of my family, friends and colleagues but it is the people that I’ve known the longest that this will probably affect the most. People who I’ve known since my childhood, who have seen me grow as a person and seen me change many times in many different ways, but never this much. I do feel like I should say sorry to you for keeping this a secret for so long, for building up a wall between us that I led you to believe didn’t exist. I’m not sorry for who I am, but I am sorry for who I made you believe I was.
We only get one short life and everyone deserves the right to live it as their authentic true self. Since coming to terms with all of this, I’m already a happier person. I am taking my life into my own hands, and I’m going to live it the way that I deserve to live it. I cannot and will not go on denying who I really am.
This is my life, my story, and this is the next chapter. I hope you will all be part of it.
Love to all of you,
Amy-to-be, Ian-for-now.
COMING-OUT STORIES
One parent once described their experience of their child coming out in a very heartwarming way. They lived quite far apart, so the trans person (who was a trans woman) came out to her mum over the phone. After their conversation, the mum decided that she needed to visit her child, so she booked a flight immediately and travelled to meet her. Throughout the journey she felt a sense of grief. She felt as if she had lost her son. As she met with her child in the arrival hall of the airport, she suddenly realised that she had not lost a son at all – she had gained the daughter who was there all along. Her child was finally who she really was and she was delighted and excited to get to know her child as their true authentic self.
Below are some quotes and advice we gathered from trans teenagers about coming out.
Silas, 17-year-old non binary person
I first came out to my friend who is LGBTQIA+ herself so she understood completely. Then I told my therapist. She was really supportive and listened to my hopes and fears about realising that I am trans. I reluctantly came out to my parents after their incessant questioning forced me to. My dad understands the whole dysphoria part of it as he is a psychiatrist. My mom not so much. She is very angry and feels somewhat betrayed by the whole matter. It is okay to be unsure. It is your identity and no one else’s. All that matters is you are happy, you are not hurting anyone by being yourself. You are queer enough and you are trans enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH. You are enough and you are loved. Never forget that.
Lauren, 12-year-old trans girl
At first I was really worried that nobody would accept me and I’d be forced to live as a boy. I came out to my mum over text and she was great about it and we agreed to tell my counsellor at school.
Noah
