High Heeled Boots

1991

I'm the brunette, transgender wife. 

My wife’s brother-in-law was in the first Gulf War. When he was coming home, his wife, my wife’s sister, had our niece and nephew stay with us, so that she could have some alone time with her husband.

After several days, my wife's sister and her husband returned to get the kids. After they left, we discovered that my wife's sister had left a pair of boots, a grey, somewhat high heeled pair, at our house. My wife and I commented on the fact that she had left them, tossed them into the closet, and went on about our lives. 

Those boots, for reasons unknown to me then, for lack of a better phrase, called to me. I took them out to look at them multiple times, each time evaluating them for how they looked, would they be comfortable for a person to wear, etc. But that was it. It was a series of inconsequential incidents that seemed to mean nothing.

Summer came on, and my wife, a member of the Army National Guard, began attending annual training. Now, her annual training was a different experience from that of most members of the National Guard. We lived about an hour away from her unit, and she worked at the state headquarters, and so her 2 week training time was spent locally. She came home at night.

About 2 days after her training started, those boots were on my mind for whatever reason. So I took them out again and was evaluating them. Suddenly I realized I was wondering how those boots would feel, on me! Shocked and more than a little horrified at my thought process, I threw them back into the closet. I did my best to ignore the fact they were even in the house.

This worked for a few days. But not for long. I found myself getting them out again. I had no idea if they would fit, but the next thing I knew, I was sitting on the couch, pulling one of those boots on. At that time in my life, I had never considered the fact that I have small feet. I was actually surprised when the boot, though slightly snug, fit decently well. So, I pulled on the other boot. I sat there for a moment, honestly wondering why in the world I had even put them on. But, I figured, since they were on, why not walk around in them?

Walking in heels is a learned art. No one is an immediate natural at it. I’m sure I looked like a drunk moose, walking around our apartment in those boots. But, I quickly got much better at it. Suddenly, I realized that I LIKED wearing them! I heard myself say "What in the world am I doing?". Again, I was shocked at myself, and at what I was thinking. I couldn’t get those boots off fast enough. Back into my wife’s closet they went.

The next day, and the day after, and the day after, those boots wouldn’t leave me alone. Soon, they were out again, and I was walking around again in them. They felt relatively comfortable, and I really started to love how I felt in them. Each time that feeling surfaced, off the boots went. The day after that, as I walked around the apartment, I realized that I wanted to wear those boots outside. Cue the horrified reaction, and the boots went back to their rightful place.

Then came the last day of my wife’s annual training. I sat there, those boots in my hands. I told myself that this was it. The last chance to wear them. But also, that if I put them on, I needed to do it all the way. Either wear them outside or don’t wear them at all.

It was still very early in the morning on a weekend and was grey and foggy out. I dressed, those boots were soon on my feet. I put on my long military dress raincoat, the kind that looks like a trench coat. I put on one of my wife’s fedora style hats. Then, I was standing at the door, my heart pounding, simultaneously terrified that I would be seen and found out, and yet, feeling that for some reason, I really needed to do this. I made my decision, and turned away from the door, and went back to the bedroom to take off the boots.

Then, I turned around again and went to the door. "What if someone sees me?" I wondered. Then, I turned and went back toward the bedroom. This process repeated several times. But then came the time I put my hand on the doorknob. Filled with sudden resolve, I turned the knob and stepped outside our apartment into the fog.

It was an epic fog, right out of an English novel, so that provided me some cover. But, I was an active duty Soldier, and we lived on an Army base. So, being found out could go badly. Despite that, I walked down the sidewalk toward the street. The sound of the boot heels on the pavement seemed shockingly loud, but I suspect now that this was more a result of being nervous than anything else. Quickly, I was at the street. I turned and followed the sidewalk along the street. At first, my steps were tentative, unsure, but as I walked I soon was striding with much more confidence. I soon came to a cross street and turned down it. In the fog, a car came past, and I wanted to find a place to hide, but there were none. Thankfully, they didn’t even slow down. I walked about a quarter of a mile down that road, and then turned around, and walked home.

Finally, I was going up my own walk. As I stepped in the door, I remember feeling surprised that it appeared no one had noticed, and feeling an odd sense of pride. The boots came off with a little bit of regret, and into the closet they went. I don’t remember what happened to those boots. But I do know that I never put them on again.

Quote From My Boss

2019

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

It's been a year since I took the last steps toward living authentically in public. This included coming out at work, including coming out to my conservative Christian boss. If I'm being honest, my wife and I, as well as allies, expected that there might be problems regarding my boss, related to me being transgender. For a long time after I came out, he acted uncomfortable around me.

Recently, my boss was walking past me, and he surprised me by stopping me. He shuffled his feet and looked at me.

"You know, I wasn't sure what to expect," he said. "But you caused me to realize how wrong I was in how I was thinking," he said, "about a lot of things."

Then he turned and walked off. Me? I went inside with a smile.

What I'd Tell Myself Looking Back

2019

Iceberg Right Ahead!

I'm the brunette, transgender wife

Remembering back to when my wife and I began this journey, it is interesting to think of how things have changed. But what once seemed so daunting - a massive series of roadblocks in front of us - turned out to be a breathtakingly freeing experience.

I remember the tears when it finally clicked what was going on in my life. That sudden, shocking (to me) realization of the reason behind what I'd been experiencing. The emotional turmoil. The fear. The questions. What did this all mean? What was up ahead?

My mind went to the stories I'd heard about people transitioning and it being disastrous for them. Their lives ruined. The drama. The upheaval. The loss. I didn't want my life to be a disaster!

Put On The Brakes!

Stop. Take a deep breath. Relax.

It's not the end of your life. It's not the end of your relationships, or at least it doesn't have to be. It's not the end of your job, or at least it doesn't have to be.

Don't panic. Sure, there are roadblocks. Or are there, really? For me, the roadblocks turned out to be hurdles. Roadblocks bar your progress forward, but hurdles can be leaped over.

Get some help. No matter how strong you are, no matter how self-assured you are, get some help. Having someone to talk with as you make plans and go through changes can be that stabilizing presence in your life that you need when the changes, physical and in your thought process, come.

Sunrise on a Cruise Ship

My wife and I went on a cruise, years back. I'm an early riser, and so I discovered that the ship had an outdoor running track on one of the upper decks. I got up each morning and went out there, and walked. As I walked, the sun came up over the ocean. There was nothing out there at all in sight but us. It was peaceful and beautiful and relaxing.

That's what this is. At least, that's what this is if you let it be. Just a sunrise viewed from a cruise ship. There is beauty here. There is opportunity here. Opportunity to learn, grow, change for the better. There is peace here, just waiting to be found.

Friendships worth maintaining will be maintained. Sure, you might have a friend or two that you figure out, through this, are not the sort of people you want as friends. That's fine! Part ways amicably, and realize that you'll end up with new friends.

If you have a good job with a good employer, it'll still be there. If you don't, that job might leave, in which case, for your peace of mind, that's the best thing, long term. Dust yourself off and update your resume, and go get another job.

If your relationships with family are built on good communication, they still will be. If they aren't, they still won't be.

It's the End of the World As We Know It!

It might be. But just because it's the end of the world as you know it, doesn't mean it's the end of the world. There's this fresh, clean smell after it has rained. Do you know the smell I mean? It makes you feel so good when you smell it! That smell is there because the rain has rinsed away that which is toxic or impure, and what's left is supposed to be there.

That's what this is. It's that fresh, clean smell. A breath of fresh air. The next step on the journey. Sure, there will be changes. That's okay. Take a deep breath. You're becoming yourself, finally. Relax. Enjoy it. Get ready for an amazing ride.

Look. Do you see it? The sun is coming up over the ocean! Isn't it beautiful?

10 Awesome Things People Have Said To Me Recently

I am the brunette, transgender wife.

1. "I love you!" - my amazing wife
2.  "Are you two mother and daughter? You look just alike." - a female gas station clerk addressing my and our youngest child
3.  "You must feel awesome" - youngest child, exiting the above-mentioned gas station with me
4. "After you, ma'am." - a twenty-something guy holding a door for me
5. "I love your hair." - coworker
6. "It's been a lot of fun watching her bloom" - my amazing wife, referring to me
7. "That's a great color on you! You should wear that a lot!" - a young woman at church referring to a teal shirt I wore
8. "Would this be separate checks or together?" - a waitress to my wife and I, tacitly acknowledging we're 2 women
9. "May I help you ladies?" - a coffee shop employee to my wife and me
10. "Oh you shouldn't have told me that!" - a local Wal mart manager, glowing with the anticipation upon hearing that the changing room employees have been a bit difficult, going on to explain how she was going to fix that issue

Religion and Life - The First Letter to My Parents

This is the first of a series of letters I sent my parents after I came out to them. 

Dad and Mom,

I hope you are well. Me? I’m well.

I wanted to try to tell you a little bit about me, and explain a few things, in the hope it will lead to greater understanding.  I believe we need to have these conversations, even if they make us uncomfortable. It is important to understand, and it can be difficult to understand and believe what seems different. Accordingly, I ask you to put aside what you believe you believe and put aside what you think you know and listen to my words. Allow what I am saying to speak to you because this is the truth. I don’t refer to some lofty, abstract truth someone talks about in an hour-long sermon, but rather truth I personally experience firsthand.

I know you have a religious basis for your reaction to what we’ve told you. I understand where you’re coming from. I’ve talked to literally thousands of Christians, and I know the basis behind the issues. I know you’re not trying to be mean, and I know you’re acting out of fear and concern. I know this concern is distressing for you, and I hope I can ease that concern through these letters.

I wanted to tell you that Christians who insist the Bible says transgender people are sinners or are hated by God or are going to hell are mistaken. It’s just plain not in there. At all. Not one single verse speaks against me as a person, or as a child of God. Many of these Christians are simply repeating what they’ve heard said by others. Some of them are acting out of fear. Some of them are acting out of hate. Most of them are simply doing what people do, and thus reacting negatively to anything different than them. But the reality is this: the people in the Bible who are gender-non-conforming (not being who their sex says they are supposed to be) are not horrible people at all. In fact, one of the first persons recorded in scripture as becoming a follower of Christ after His resurrection was a eunuch – a gender non-conforming person.

There is a very common argument used by Christians to speak against transgender people. This argument can be summed up in this manner: “The Bible says God only made men and women. Not transgender people”. Yet, here we are. For that matter, most transgender people are still either men or women. But this isn’t really the point. Does the Bible really say God ONLY made men and separately, women? Actually, no. Genesis says God created people male and female. It does NOT say God created them male OR female. It says “and”, not “or”. When a person buys groceries, the bagger asks “paper or plastic?” in order to determine which of the two types of bags you’d like to get. You get paper, or you get plastic. If they asked “paper and plastic?” It’d be odd seeming, but you’d also get bags made out of both paper and plastic. Does this make sense? Imagine an emergency where someone calls for the police and the paramedics, and only one or the other showed up. When someone calls for the police and the paramedics, they don’t expect to get only police cars or ambulances. They expect to get both. Furthermore, some police officers are also paramedics.

God created light and darkness in Genesis. Genesis says light and darkness are separate, but then, we can easily see they are often mixed together. Hence, the dim light of dawn or a gloomy library in an old house, not to mention dusk, dawn, and twilight. Let’s not forget the dim light in the corner of the room in the morning or evening. God created land and seas, and scripture says they are separate, in Genesis. Yet, there are marshes along the coasts, where the land and the water are mixed together, as well as bogs and swamps, etc. totaling millions of acres in the USA alone. Freshwater and saltwater are separate, created by God to be this way, right? Genesis says so.  He even made aquatic life that lives exclusively in one or the other. Yet, estuaries along major river outlets are a curious mixture of saltwater and freshwater, and there is aquatic life thriving there. There are entire seas of mixed salt and freshwater, and we shouldn’t forget the massive Hudson Bay. There are “freshwater” lakes just salty enough for saltwater fish to thrive there. It’s light AND darkness, not light OR darkness. It’s land AND water, not land OR water. It’s saltwater AND freshwater, not saltwater OR fresh water. They are combined, despite what many Christians believe Genesis says. People are the same way. All of us – every single one of us – is in some way a combination.  The presence of the word “and” in Genesis is vital and telling. It’s male AND female, not male OR female. God made all these things as opposites, yet He also made them in such a way that they can, and do, blend together into all sorts of combinations.

Transgender people have been present throughout recorded history. It’s nothing new, and it isn’t a “modern-day epidemic”. There were transgender people in all periods of history. Some cultures have had some sort of third gender for centuries. The Hebrew culture, on which scripture is based, actually has six different genders in their ancient writings, the Talmud and the Mishnah (also sometimes called the Mishna) as well as in dozens of other historical Hebrew texts. There were transgender people around you in your youth too. You just probably didn’t know it. It was much more carefully hidden if nothing else because someone known to be transgender would have been treated in a manner that was beyond hideous.

Some amazingly well-known people in years past were transgender, including Wilmer Broadnax, lead singer of the Golden Echoes, a well known Christian quartet in the late ’50s and early ’60s, and of the Five Blind Boys of Mississippi, a Gospel group in the later 1960s. Another interesting example is jazz musician Billy Tipton, who was transgender. More modern examples include actress Nicole Mains, writer/director Jake Graf, author April Daniels, pop singer Kim Petras, Model Hunter Schafer, actor Elliot Page, and actresses Michelle Hendley and Jazz Jennings. Generally, surveys estimate the current number of transgender people in the United States to be somewhere between 1.5 million and 3 million people. Million. Yes, I mean million. That’s more than the combined populations of Wyoming, North Dakota, Alaska, and Vermont with ALL U.S. Territories included. In fact, there are 17 States with fewer people in them, than the current number of transgender people in the United States. In other words, it’s not a fad, it’s not something dreamed up, and it’s not something new. It’s more people than the number of Hebrews Moses led out of Egypt. It’s a massive number of people whose lives are much harder than they needed to be, because of how they are treated. I’m one of them.

Transgender people are just people. We’re no different as people than anyone else. We are, however, patriots. Studies show transgender people are twice as likely to serve in the U.S. Military than are other people. We have hopes, goals, and dreams just like everyone else. We have skills, and hobbies. For example, did you know I’m a very good photographer? We are contributing members of society, being factory workers, cops, nurses, managers, firefighters, writers, scientists, soldiers, teachers, artists and so much more.

Christians as a group tend to think transgender people are horribly confused. In fact, the term “people who are confused about their gender” is often used in church circles to refer to transgender people, I suppose because it seems nicer as Christians to say such a thing. The reality is, we aren’t confused at all. We know exactly who we are. Another argument used by Christian leaders is that transgender people are rebelling against God’s authority. This is a leap of logic not remotely supported either in scripture or in the lives of transgender people, but goodness does it sound awesome as part of a sermon! If it is assumed that God, in His authority, created a man and a woman, why in the world would God, in His authority, not be able to create something more in the middle? I seriously doubt His authority is limited. I submit that insisting God only created certain types of people is an attempt by mankind to put limits on the power and authority of God.  Who are we as people to assume God only does what people want or are comfortable with!

Honestly, there’s no scripture saying God hates me. There’s no scripture saying I’m an abomination. There’s no scripture saying I’m going to hell. There is no scripture that says being transgender is a sin. There IS, however, John 3:16 which says “whosever believes in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life”. Then there is Matthew 7 which says “Judge not, or you will be judged”, and James Chapter 4 which asks “Who do you think yourself to be, that you judge your neighbor?”. There is Galatians 3 which says none of us is different than any other of us; we are all the same. There is Romans 10 which says the same Lord is free to all who call upon Him. Free to all. ALL. 

Christians have taught for many years that various groups were not loved by God, didn’t have rights, and were somehow “less than”, others. They’ve used the same arguments over and over through the years to limit women, to stomp down black people, to stomp down Irish people, to condemn interracial marriages, to condemn gay people, and now, to condemn transgender people. Yet Jesus tells us in Matthew 7 to focus on the plank in our own eye, rather than search for the speck of sawdust in someone else’s eye. Despite this, instead of seeing a child of God, they see someone who isn’t exactly like them, and they react by calling these people sinful. Calling someone sinful allows the person to be comfortable treating them badly, and even feel they are doing right to do it. I find no place in scripture where Jesus acted this way.

Christian comedian Mark Lowry laments that Gentile Christians are literally the uninvited guests at the wedding supper (the wedding supper being an analogy for entering into His Kingdom), only being allowed in because His own (the Hebrews) did not receive Him, and though we were the uninvited guests that were let in, now so many of us are standing at the door trying to keep other uninvited guests out. Who are we as Christians to think we can decide who should be let in? How sad!

Thank you for reading this. It is my hope some of your concern has been allayed. I love you.

Bras are....Evil?

2019

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

Did you ever have an irreverent thought?

Well, it was Mother's Day. Though I'm not supposed to be welcome in my parent's home unless I present male, I went up to visit as me (not some guy), accompanied by my awesome wife.

We gave her the gifts we had gotten for her, and a card as well. She was immediately upset because I signed my name. She complained that I should have signed it using my dead-name (she said real name), which she said was the name she gave me. I said, "I know you named me that, but I renamed myself". I'm not sure she heard me. But it was fun.

The other thing she was upset about was that I wear bras. The entire evening, she kept saying to herself that she couldn't believe I was wearing a bra. I get that this one is hard to grasp for an older person. But here's the thing. I have a pretty decent sized chest. As religious as she'd like people to think she is, wouldn't me walking around bra-less be worse?

Regardless, though she doesn't at all like that I'm transgender, and in fact, talks with others as if the whole thing was a shameful secret, if I still had my birth name and had burned my bras (heck no, they cost too much!!!) in a fit of feminist glory, I think the whole thing might have worked well with her!

Hiding Myself

I'm the brunette, transgender woman.

Throughout my childhood, I did this thing that I'd guess many transgender girls didn't do. But who knows?

Anyway, when using the restroom, I'd be in there, sitting on the toilet, and while sitting there, I'd tuck my genitals down between my legs and sit there, pretending that they weren't there. I did it all the time. I also sat down a lot to pee, which I doubt was something my male friends did. I'd tuck my "stuff" down between my legs, and it made this interesting crease, which to me looked very much like what a girl's genitals must look like if they were sitting in the same position. Sure, I was in middle school and still a virgin, and had no real idea. But still, I found myself doing it pretty much every time I went to the bathroom, except at school, because there were no doors on the stalls.

I'd sit there, relaxing, a moment of peace in a hectic world, and then finally I'd be done, and it was time to return to the real world. Looking back, I think that must have been the manifestation of me wanting that portion of me to not be there, of pretending I had none of that. Nowadays, I find the presence of testicles to be very disturbing when I look in the mirror and see them. It's jarring, for lack of a better word.

I wonder how many adults, who know they are trans, or who haven't figured it out yet, did things like that? Or was it just me?

Awkward

2019

I'm the redhead, cis-gender wife. 

Before I begin, I want to stress that one thing we have learned is that transitioning looks different, to different people. 

Well, we have have been working through the transition process for a while now.  Through this, we have noticed that things with family can at times be awkward. Do you know what I mean? It sometimes catches us by surprise, but often, we know going into a situation that things might well be off. 

What do I mean about awkward? One good example is that my wife’s mother refuses to call her by her name. She insists on using her birth name. She does this in public and private. Mt mother-in-law also uses incorrect pronouns when referring to my wife. I use my wife's actual name and her correct pronouns. There is always this tug-of-war of sorts. I find it frustrating that my mother-in-law can be so stubborn. 

It can be awkward because you don't always know what to say to respond, and there always seems to be this odd silence over and over in conversation. It makes things jerky, like an old movie with some of the holes on the side stripped out, so it doesn't flow smoothly. 

The extended family on my wife’s mother’s side of the family don’t utilize my wife’s name as well. I recently had to spend a lot of time with my wife’s mother. I would talk about my wife and utilize her name. My mother-in-law would at times not even acknowledge that I was even talking when talking about my wife. She would also make sure to use my wife’s old name. She would at times make a point to talk about my wife using her old name.

To be honest, since we came out to her, she has gone out of her way to use my wife's birth name as often as possible. Let's say that my wife's birth name was Wayne. Her name really isn't, but for illustration purposes, go with me here. My mother-in-law might say something like: "I was thinking that Wayne could go outside and Wayne could open the shed and Wayne could take out the mower and Wayne could mow the Grass" or "Wayne, would you please go out to the car Wayne and get the bag Wayne out of the back seat Wayne?" 

Now, to be honest, it's not quite that bad. But I swear, you never hear so many 'he"s and "him"s and "his"s coming out of a person's mouth. 

This gets very frustrating and annoying. I would find myself trying to evade using any names at times to talk about my wife. I would in a sense beat about the bush when telling about something that happened at home with my wife. At first, I didn’t even realize I was doing this. I suppose I was avoiding what was in a real sense a confrontation. This went on over several visits during the time frame I had to spend with her.

I finally realized what I was doing and decided that I needed to change my approach. So, I made a point of talking about my wife and of making sure to use my wife's name. Sometimes I would get a reply, a lot of the time I wouldn’t get any comment from my mother-in-law at all. It is awkward at times when talking to my wife’s mother but it is her problem not mine and I refuse to be put in that awkward situation anymore!

Things to take away from this post:

Avoiding confrontation isn't wrong. Sometimes it is a safe move. But to be honest, there often comes a time where continuing to avoid confrontation only makes things worse and avoids addressing the problem. 

Sometimes, you will find yourself using a transgender person's old name, or the incorrect pronouns. When you do, apologize quietly, and change what you say from that time forward. Though it can be hard to change what name and pronouns you use, especially if you've known them for a while, you can change the habit. It takes being intentional about it. In other words, if it is important to you, you will do it. If it isn't, I guess you're my mother-in-law. 

Gender on Forms

Gender on Forms

1978

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

Lots of forms, especially in the military, require you to select sex or gender. This sometimes caused me to pause, but I just explained that away as something odd about me.

Did you ever wonder?

When I was very young, this didn’t mean anything to me, but there came a time, in 5^th grade, when I was asked to come to the office. We were supposed to be going to see the circus as a school trip, and something was screwed up with my permission slip. My mom had signed the slip, and I had filled it out the next day, at school, before turning it in to my teacher. Apparently, I had indicated on the form that I was female.

The lady in the office was amused. I got another copy, to take home for my parents to sign. My mom grumped a bit but signed it, after making sure I filled it out correctly first. I returned the form, and all was good.

As the school year continued, we were going to go to a sort of park near us, that was a wetland. When it was time to do the permission slip, I noticed I hesitated a bit when it was time to mark male or female. Coming on the heels of the circus permission slip, I remember thinking how odd it was that it gave me so much trouble.

In middle school and high school, more than once I marked female on a form. I thought sometimes that it might be some sort of learning disability, that I kept marking the incorrect spot.

I actually asked our family doctor about it. He said it was just foolishness.

Ah...but today?

Over the years, I have on multiple occasions hesitated, strangely drawn to mark female on the form. Sometimes it was embarrassing., especially if someone noticed something was wrong. More than once, I had to request a new form. But it was just an odd thing. Wasn’t it?

Having the benefit of hindsight, I now understand that there was a real reason for my hesitation. Fast-forwarding to the present time, I am able to mark "female" on forms without concern, and it is automatic because that's who I am. 

The Right Way to Choose a Name

2018-2019

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

In 2018, my name change process began. I spent my entire life to that point with a name that honestly wasn't me, and it got to the point that it needed to be changed. It didn't change by accident, but because I desired a name that more accurately reflects who I am. Once it got to the point that it was a need, I began the search for my name.

Okay...We're a Bit Twisted Maybe

Now, our family has a sense of humor, and I very badly wanted to seek input from my wife, our kids (who are adults), and a few close friends. We especially wanted our kids involved, because how often does a child get to name their parent? Accordingly, my wife and I tossed about a few possible names. My wife and I chose one that we thought sounded good, and we trotted out the name to our kids and close friends. We honestly thought we had the winner.

No. That'd be too easy. Our kids hated the name we had chosen and bluntly said so. I'm ever so glad they did.

Realizing that what we did hadn't worked for us, we decided to try something different. We tapped into that sense of humor I mentioned and decided to run a contest of sorts. First, my wife and I, and our friends and kids brainstormed names. We listed every woman's name we liked. No name was off-limits during the brainstorming session. We thus arrived at quite a list.

Next, I eliminated a few names that I just plain didn't like. My wife and our kids also had veto authority. Many of the names on the list were thus eliminated. One friend asked to eliminate a name, but we had decided that the reason given wasn't a good one, so that didn't happen. When all was said and done, we arrived at 24 names, one of which was the original name we had chosen. That name made the list by default, by virtue of having originally been the front-runner.

The 24 remaining names were randomly placed into a tournament bracket in a similar manner to that of sports tournament brackets. This resulted in 12 pairs of names. Over the next few weeks, my wife, kids, and close friends were texted each of the 12 brackets, one bracket at a time. We intentionally spaced them out to allow for thought. Each person responded with their choice between the two. Typically, in each bracket, one name won handily. The winner of each bracket advanced to the next round.

The next round was 12 names, in six brackets. The same method was followed, except for this round, we included the listed meaning for each name. These decisions were much more difficult because all 12 names seemed to be good names. A week later, we were down to six names. This list included the originally chosen name.

On to the Finals

My wife and I had a lengthy discussion at this point and decided to eliminate the original name we had chosen because we had identified five other names we honestly liked better. Our kids agreed that they liked each of the 5 names better than the original. We reasoned that since it was honestly a distant sixth, there was no need to continue considering it. Two more days gone, five names left.

We then sent all five remaining names to everyone who had been participating and asked for suggestions of two names to eliminate. Another way to say it was that we asked them to choose two names on the list they thought were the weakest choices. Interestingly, the two names eliminated as a result were nearly unanimous. Three more days down.

Then three names remained. My wife and I used each of these names in our conversations, with the intent of seeing how they sounded. Did they seem natural? Did the name seem like me, or did it seem like a stage name or something? My wife and I tossed those names around in our conversations for a few weeks, using each name for a few days, and one name seemed to consistently stand out.

We felt that confirmation was an important step. So, we used that one, by itself, on a trial basis, just between us, to see how it felt, for another few weeks. That name resonated with both of us, and we decided that our search was over. Interestingly, the name chosen was the name the friend had asked us to drop from consideration at the very beginning. We passed that name on to our kids and close friends, and there was a universal thumbs up.

My wife and I are glad we used the system we used, instead of simply choosing a girly sounding name and going with it, as so many do. We ended up choosing a name we never would have remotely considered simply by looking at names that immediately came to mind.

A month later, after learning all we could about how the name change process worked, we filed for the name change. It was late in 2018. Early in 2019, the name change was complete.

I'm not trying to say you should use my process. I AM trying to say that quickly choosing a girl's name you've always liked, or if you're a transgender guy, quickly choosing a guy's name you've always liked, might not be the best move. You might have a much more fitting name hanging out there on the edge of your thoughts, just waiting to be found. Give it a chance to be heard.

I'm the Transgender Soldier Our President Warned You About

Note please that jargon terms are linked to Wikipedia articles that explain those terms.

I'm not just transgender. I'm also a veteran. 28 years in the uniform of the United States Army, most of it as a combat arms Soldier. I've been deployed to combat multiple times.

Wait. A transgender Soldier? Yes. That's right. I was decently good at it, too. There are a lot of transgender military personnel in this country, serving honorably, doing amazing things. I've spoken with more than a few of them. They wear our country's uniform with pride, they hold their rifle, and they stand on the line between our citizens and those who mean our country harm, just like our other Soldiers do. I even know a transgender Soldier with a Bronze Star.

My wife says that I often downplay my military service. She's right. I do. I tend to avoid the spotlight. I don't like bragging about myself, though I'll gladly brag about her. She is concerned, I believe, that I might downplay who I am as a person too much, sometimes. So babe, just for you, here's my brag moment. My literary "I love me wall" (many military people have a wall that's sarcastically termed an I Love Me Wall in their home that displays their military accomplishments), if you will.

I have 27 months of combat time. I've seen a lot of horrible things. I've faced violence. I've been in difficult situations. My unit was awarded the Valorous Unit Award (the unit equivalent of the individual Silver Star) for our actions in Baghdad. I'm a graduate of the U.S. Army Air Assault School and the U. S. Army Electronic Warfare Operator's (EWO) School. I'm a certified military instructor.

I'm authorized to wear combat patches for the 1st Infantry Division and the 101st Airborne Division. I've seen men go outside the wire (off the base into the more dangerous areas) and not come back. I've had rockets and mortars and IEDs explode in close proximity. I've personally arrested and interrogated dozens of people who emplaced improvised explosive devices (IED's) or carried out or tried to carry out other types of attacks against our forces. I routinely qualified expert with my M-4 rifle. I've called for dustoffs in combat.

I've rappelled from helicopters, landed on an airfield under fire, fired cannons, and gone on dozens of combat patrols as the lead driver (the lead vehicle is in the most dangerous position and the lead driver is an extremely stressful position). I've hooked combat vehicles to helicopters in the pitch black of an overcast night, taken incoming rockets and mortars, heard my fellow Soldiers locked in a desperate struggle on the radio and anguished at the casualty reports, faced down a hostile crowd of about 50 Iraqis with just me and my driver in the middle of Baghdad in the middle of the night, survived a helicopter crash, held an armed IED in my bare hands, had shots fired at me, and found enemy weapons caches. I've literally stood on Saddam Hussein's front door, helped discover a tunnel complex, and chased a truck full of gunmen through the streets of Baghdad with a drone in the middle of the night. I've done SPIE, survived a VBIED attack, called in airstrikes and drone attacks, and frankly, did my part to rock the world, high explosive style.

I'm transgender. I am. But I'm not alone. There are thousands more, just like me. Literally thousands. Transgender. Loving America. Serving. Fighting. Kicking butt. Making a difference. Don't let anyone tell you differently. We're real!

In short: I'm the Transgender Soldier our President warned you about!

Shaving in the Men's Room

2017

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

I Had to Try

I was in California, at a military base for a few weeks of training. Prior to traveling there, I was thinking I wanted to step out as more feminine while there.  No one there knew me, I was away from work, so it was a good time to try.  When one is in an area where no one knows you, it can be safer to try things that you can't safely try around your own community. Upon arriving there, I had decided that if I was to step out as more feminine, then I needed to do it right. So, I made the decision to shave my body while there. This is something I had never done before, though I had been shaving my legs for a year or so at this point. I was nervous about doing it and thought that I would probably not follow through. What if someone saw me shaved, and figured out the truth about me?

I already had what I needed to shave because as a Soldier I needed to shave my face. I waited until late evening and went to one of the more remote areas of the shower room. The showers were all together in a restroom, with each shower being individual, with wavy glass doors that distorted what was inside a bit, but not enough to totally hide anything. So, you really didn’t have privacy, but rather just the illusion of privacy. I will say that this is more privacy than one typically gets in a male shower room in the Army. 

I started showering. I was nervous. No, I was scared. I was shaking a bit. So, I took my time, because rushing while shaving can be a very bad idea, especially if your hands are shaky. In that barracks, hot water was nearly unlimited. So, I simply stood there and enjoyed the feeling of the hot water cascading over me, and tried to relax.

Calm Down, Already!

The hot water felt good. Finally, I had calmed down. I started to lather my chest and then got busy shaving. I’d never done it before, and had no idea which way the hair was growing, to know which direction to shave. I'd never thought about which way the "grain" went. I had to shave my chest three times, to get it right. That was a bit frustrating but at the same time, if you've ever shaved an area for the first time, the feeling of air moving across that area is exhilarating. 

Then it was time to do my armpits. That, for me, was a challenge, because there was no mirror to look in, and the angle was odd to view what I was shaving directly. So, that made things significantly slower. I was thus surprised to find a good method for shaving my armpits on the first try. So far so good!

I moved down to my stomach and shaved that area fairly quickly, all things considering. At that point, my upper body was done. Now I was feeling much more relaxed and a bit confident. 

Let me just say that many women never have to deal with shaving their stomach. But hey. One does what one must. 

Safe Territory

I lathered up my right leg. I was confident about shaving my legs because I had been shaving my legs for many months at that point. I had my razor in my hand and was just getting ready to start when I heard a shower nearby start up. I froze, and suddenly, right outside my shower, a guy was standing, wearing a towel, hanging his keys, and then the towel, on hooks.

The guy turned, and there I was, all wavy looking through the glass. He was pretty distorted, to me, and there was some condensation on the glass. That meant I was distorted too. But he had a clear enough view of my leg covered in shaving cream to be able to tell something was odd. I heard a muttered “What the hell?”, and then the guy got in his shower.

I heard him get busy showering, so I let out my breath and continued shaving. I got that leg done pretty quickly, all things considered. I enjoyed a moment of silent celebration, and then lathered and shaved the other leg. I stood there for a few minutes, letting the water clean off the remaining shaving cream.

Now for the Hard Part

I still had one area left to shave, that being my groin area, and I considered waiting until the other guy had left. I hadn’t been able to see his facial features, through the distortion, so had no idea if I knew him or not. I decided the best move was to get done. So, I got myself wet, and lathered up, and went for it.

I am trying to find the words to describe the simultaneous joy of losing the hair in the private area, combined with the fear of shaving the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong way. I’m not sure there are words. In the interest of not being crude, let's just say that shaving the genital area on a male body is not an easy thing to do. Nothing is smooth, nothing stays in place, and you have to be very careful not to cut anything, because as experience has since shown me, cutting anything in that area freaking hurts! It also tends to bleed a lot. 

I finally got done, and then realized that I was going to have to shave that area again, because the hair had been reduced to stubble, but no further. At that moment, the guy nearby banged loudly out of his shower. I nearly had a heart attack, I swear! He grabbed his towel, and dried off quickly. Then, without a comment or a look my way, he was gone. Good grief. 

I lathered up again and got to work. When I had finished, I remember standing there thinking that the only hair on my body was on the top of my head, my eyebrows, and my arms. It was a moment of exhilaration.

Thank God!

I rinsed off, making sure I got all the shaving cream off and then stepped out of the shower. I grabbed my towel and dried off as well as I could. I wrapped in the towel. and I walked out of the shower area, through the bathroom, and out into the hallway. Because the bathroom was off the side of what the Army calls a day room, which is a room with a TV and several chairs, I expected the guy from the shower to be waiting, to see who I was, but he wasn’t there. Neither was anyone else. Thank God!

I walked down the hall, wearing nothing but shower shoes and a towel, to my room. I hadn’t thought of it until I was writing this, but the towel was high on my body, tucked under my arms, covering my chest as well as the lower areas, rather than in the typical male method of wrapping around the waist. I didn't pass anyone. 

In my room, I got out my bottle of lotion and applied lotion to my body, because I knew from experience that my legs, anyway, would otherwise razor burn. I was amazed at how smooth my skin felt, in areas that had always been hairy. I went to bed that night feeling proud of myself, having achieved something I honestly hadn’t thought I’d have the courage to do.

What's in a Name?

2019

I'm the redhead, cis-gender wife.

On this journey of my spouse transitioning one thing I have noticed is that not only are pronouns important but her new name is important as well. I struggle with both at times mainly because utilizing the male pronouns and calling them by the name her parents gave her is something that I have been doing for over three decades. One can not stop using a name overnight that one has been using most of their life. But it is something that I am doing better with and will continue to.

One thing that helps is that my wife is understanding and supportive. She knows I try very hard. 

The name being important hit me recently. My wife’s mother was having an important medical treatment, and I was driving her to and from it. As I was sitting there and talking with her she would use my wife’s former, "male" name. I found myself falling into using it as well because I was hearing it over and over. She has made sure to use that name all the time since she was told my wife is transgender. But it didn’t feel right to me. It felt awkward and wrong. So I decided to change the tone of the conversation. As the conversation continued, I found I used my wife’s real "female" name intentionally and even used her name instead of a "faceless" pronoun.

It sounds silly that a name can be a big thing but it is. A name identifies the person for who they are. It is something that helps make that person who and what they are. I know when folks mispronounce or misspell my name it irritates me. So just imagine when a transgender person is being called by a name that they don't identify with at all. It can be heart-wrenching. It can also bring on a sudden battle with dysphoria. 

I find myself stopping and really thinking about what I call my wife. I love her dearly and want her to know she is pretty awesome. I am very intentional now on making sure I use her name. Our immediate family were all involved with choosing this name. Her name fits her perfectly. The least I can do is respect her and who she is by using her name. I know that when her parents use her previous name it grates on me and I really want to say something about it. I don’t because honestly, it would be a waste of breath. They don't accept her.

Did you know that a transgender person's former name (assuming they have changed names) is often referred to as a dead name? They have become who they really are, and no longer have to maintain the facade. 

I have also learned though that I need to be intentional in not only using my wife’s name but also the correct pronouns. True it takes time to get used to it but when one is intentional then it won’t be long before using the name and pronouns is second nature.

Not long ago my wife and I were in a store and we had gone to the atm to get some cash. The person before us hadn’t gotten all of his cash. My wife took the cash and went looking for the guy. I had seen the dude walk into the store and I yelled my wife’s old name across the store, to get her attention, so I could point out where the guy had gone. Didn’t even think about it. It just came out. She turned and looked at me with a hurt look on her face. 

Afterwards, I felt so bad. I still cringe when I remember this because her name is important and I need to continue to be intentional about using it. I also know in time that her name will come as easily as her old name did. 

What's in a name? Everything. Here's the thing. Use their real, correct name. Try. Every day. You love them. So do it. Try to do better, every day. I don't mean pressure yourself. I mean make it important to you, because it sure is important to them!

I'd Like To Introduce You

2019

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

Recently, we became aware that a friend of ours, who had been studying and working toward becoming a minister, was going to be preaching his first ever sermon. His wife has been awesome toward us over these last years. She asked us to attend the church service.

Unfortunately, this is the same church I discussed in previous posts such as this one: Email From A Transgender Person and this one: Church Bylaws. But, we decided to attend the church service, despite our history there, to be supportive.

The service was much as we remembered, though a bright spot was that he did a really great job!

After the service, some people who remembered us from when we had attended stopped to say hi, and tell us they had missed us. One man who had previously been close to us was among them, and my wife asked him and another friend to step off to the side and asked me to join them. They asked what was up.

That's when she said it. No warning for them. Or, for that matter, nor me.

"Guys, I'd like to introduce you to my wife", she said. I was shocked. I hadn't expected that. But as shocked as I was, the two men were more shocked. My wife launched into a very brief explanation, told them what my name is now, and they said they'd like to talk more with us. Then we left.

She'd never referred to me publicly as her wife before. I looked totally composed as we left the church, but my heart was soaring!

* Note from the redhead cis-gender wife:  My wife had a big goofy grin on her face the rest of the day. I'm just sayin'.

Remember How to Walk

      

1982

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

I was in high school, a Freshman. My brother was a Junior, and he didn’t want anything to do with me, at school. I was destructive to his reputation, he felt, and probably not unfairly. He had been in fights and had friends who were convinced that he was very manly. I, on the other hand, got along much better with girls, and not in a boyfriend/girlfriend sort of way. Rather, I just had several female friends.

Sometimes, Laughter Cuts

One day, I noticed that some older guys at school would snicker when I walked past. I had no idea why and asked this girl named Lisa, who was in some of my classes and I was friends with if she had noticed. She was a reasonably pretty brunette who always wore the most awesome looking tops. I had no idea where she shopped at, but she always wore stuff that flattered her. 

She laughed and said something like “I would think it is because of how you walk”.

What? What’s wrong with how I walk? I was surprised and asked her to explain. She just laughed and said I’d figure it out. I honestly didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

Though a freshman, I was already active in school events. I was on the soccer team, though honestly, I was a slow runner. I played chess, and was in the orchestra, and involved in the school plays and musicals. A few days after my talk with Lisa, I was walking to the drama room to help work on the set for the fall drama. At the end of the hallway, by the stairway that went up to the stage, was a large, full-length mirror. The hallway was quite long and descended in a slope. The mirror was at the bottom of the slope. I was plainly visible to myself as I walked down the hallway, and despite the distortion of the mirror at a minor angle to me, suddenly I noticed something odd. I didn’t walk normally.

The previous year, there had been this boy, an 8^th grader, in my class, who was gay. He had enough of the hazing and ridicule he had gotten, and had walked in front of a train, resulting in his death. Because people are cruel, he was mocked for committing suicide too. I had seen him around the school and had seen him walk, and it looked rather feminine all the time. I was shocked to notice I was walking just like he had. Shocked is probably an understatement. It had never seemed to me before that I walked more like a girl than like the jocks in class. Most guys seemed to walk the same, you know? Kind of a lumbering stomp.

When I had a chance, I asked Lisa again, had that been what they were talking about? She laughed and said yes, that was it. In a moment, I was on the bathroom floor in 6^th grade again in my head. For the first time ever, my brain wondered “am I gay, or something?”

The Man in the Mirror

You’ll probably find it amusing, but over the next several school days, in the evenings while working on the set, I would practice walking in that hallway, watching in the mirror, hoping no one saw me. I also watched a few different guys walking, and noticed the traits of their walks. Then I practiced some more. I was determined to walk like a man, rather than like something else. I learned to stomp, rather than step. I learned to take longer strides than I was used to. I learned to swing my arms differently and to hold my body rather still in the middle, so I didn’t look so feminine. Though it didn’t feel like me, I got pretty good at it, I suppose, though the end result was something a bit more Frankenstein than masculine, a hodge-podge of masculine and feminine walk that leaned more toward the masculine. I made a point of reminding myself how to walk, because the last thing I dared to do, wanted to do, was to be perceived as something, anything, other than masculine.

It worked because I noticed over time that those guys who had been snickering had stopped. I suppose they found someone else to make fun of.

By the time the marching band season started up my Sophomore year, my walk had changed noticeably toward the masculine. My dad even observed that I looked "very manly", as he said, when I marched.

This even followed me over into the military, where I had a unique walk that was a mix of masculine and feminine, a rather upright, too quick to be manly and too slow to be feminine. The woman who was then my girlfriend and is now my wife observed many times that she could spot me in an instant by my unusual walk.

But the overall result? Years later, I was still doing that. I walked intentionally. I reminded myself on an ongoing basis that I had to. 

I'm out publicly and don't need to walk in a manly manner to protect myself. Now that I am free to just be me, I still catch myself doing it sometimes.

Chick Flicks

I'm the brunette, transgender woman.

Lots of people have a favorite movie genre. Sure, some people like all sorts of movies, but for most of us, there are one or two genres that we just love to watch. For me, that has always been the chick flick, the romantic comedy.  I didn’t like that I like them. Imagine being out camping with the guys (I was a member of the Boy Scouts), and they’re talking about whatever the latest action movie is, and all you can mention is Sleepless in Seattle. That’s a good time, for sure! Then imagine what that's like in an Army barracks!

One thing boys do is that everyone is expected to prove their manhood on an ongoing basis. You’re expected to act tough, and manly, like manly things, do manly things. So it is important for boys to be able to hold their own in conversations about manly things. It was awkward, as a youngster, liking the movies you aren’t supposed to like. I felt like less of a person. A failure. That might not make sense, but it was the reality, for me. It made me ask, not for the first time, what was wrong with me.

As a single Soldier, I tended to avoid the group movie nights because I simply wasn’t much into that style of movie. I feel like that cost me a few friends, along the way, by me not connecting with others. But then, maybe the fact that I’d actually want to connect with them is what cost me friends.

Later, my wife and I had daughters. With daughters comes a massive barrage of Disney movies. Disney movies bring with them princesses. Lots of princesses. Essentially, the typical Disney movie of the time was a romance, directed at girls. As a result, I was watching lots of princesses, over and over, and I liked the movies. That made me extremely uncomfortable because I wasn't supposed to be into that sort of thing. 

Fast forward to today.

Nowadays, I admit that I like how a good romantic comedy can get to you. They make you feel things, tug at your emotions. They give you that warm feeling. Action movies just don’t do that.

Now, as a middle-aged adult, I’m able to watch what I want to watch, without people questioning it. It’s nice not to have to avoid romantic movies now.

The Whistle

2017

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

As both my wife and I grew more comfortable with my feminine reality, I was increasingly outside our home, in our lawn, in a pair of feminine shorts, or even a denim knee length skirt. By this point, I had been shaving my legs for a couple of years. I have been told by people who have no idea I'm transgender that my legs look pretty feminine.

Anyway, there came a time that I needed to get something from our SUV. I had just taken the dog out. I was still wearing a denim skirt and blue flip flops and had on a somewhat androgynous t-shirt. I went outside and went to the SUV, which was parked on the street. I opened the door and bent over into the SUV to pick up the item I was supposed to get from the floorboard. At that moment, a guy driving past in a car gave a loud wolf-whistle.

I was startled, but then realized I was grinning. I retrieved the item I needed, and walked up the driveway, and back inside. My wife saw my grin and asked what was up. I told her about what happened, and she giggled and asked me how it felt. I felt awesome, and told her so!

Have you had that sort of experience? One where something unexpected just resonated in some way, and made you feel good?

Counseling Helps

2019

This is the brunette, transgender wife.

Recently, in conversation with one of our kids, I asked them what advice they would give others in their position, as older teens or young adults whose parent was coming out. The answer wasn't what I thought I'd hear.

"Counseling really helped," was the answer, from both of them, in separate conversations.

My wife and I had been participating in counseling. We didn't have issues; our marriage is great, actually. But we wanted to make sure we were keeping good communication. It seemed wise in light of the changes we were going through.

Along the way, the counselor indicated that she'd be willing to meet with our kids if they so desired. So we found a day that they were free, we were free, and the counselor had an opening.

This gave our kids some things of value so high that it cannot be calculated. They had a chance to speak their mind, in a neutral and non-confrontational setting. It also gave them a chance to ask questions they might not normally have asked. It also gave them the opportunity to hear someone with knowledge on the topic tell them that there is absolutely nothing wrong with what was going on and that how they felt was normal, understandable, and good.

If you're in my situation...realizing you're transgender, scared, worried about your family, and all the other things that come with it, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!

If you're a young adult or older teen whose parent, sibling, or close friend is working out their gender, find someone to talk to. Someone who knows LGBT issues because they won't simply tell you that your family member or friend is a horrible person for what they're doing. Find someone who actually understands what is going on, and who can help you with working through your feelings and thoughts.

Get counseling. Not just for you, but for your spouse, your kids, whoever. Do it. Find someone who understands LGBT and family issues, and sit down and talk, as many times as needed.

Don't underestimate the impact it can have.

The Mirror

2019

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

One thing I have noticed is that I don't hate the mirror like I used to. I wasn't one of those people who looked in the mirror and thought I was ugly or something. But seeing myself in the mirror was always jarring.

Mirrors are a Problem

When you look at the mirror, and the image you see looks nothing like who you are, it unsettles you immensely. Looking in the mirror was thus difficult, yet something I had to do pretty much every day in my adulthood because as a Soldier I had to be cleanly shaven.

Full-length mirrors were a problem for me. Sure, bathroom mirrors were an issue, because my face didn't match my perception. But a full-length mirror was particularly jarring. I suppose it was because the entire image of me, head to toe, was just too much to deal with. So, when I had to look into a mirror at all, I only looked as long as absolutely necessary, but if it was a full-length mirror, I would quickly glance and move away. My wife says a full-length mirror was my nemesis.

Smiling at the Mirror

I'm well along into transition, hormones, etc. When I look in the mirror nowadays, I tend to smile. What I see seems like so much more representational of who I am. I have seen the seat of my pants fill out more, and I can now wear women's tops and look good in them!

Sometimes I like how a certain clothing item looks on me. Sometimes I don't. So sometimes, that makes me frown. But overall, I like what I see in the mirror now.

There's a peace that comes with an image in the mirror that resonates. I can't find a way to describe it. But, it's there.

Buying Clothes in a Pinch

2017

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

I was working and was a long drive from the office. I was filling in for a sick employee, and had become contaminated with an essential oils based chemical that had spilled down my back and the backs of my legs in sufficient quantity to soak my clothing. Like many companies, our “unisex uniform” consisted of a pair of men’s khaki work pants, and a man’s polo shirt.

One of the essential oils was a strong peppermint oil, which causes burns. I was in a lot of pain and needed to get changed fast, to remove the chemical exposure that was increasingly burning me. There was a store nearby that sold clothing, so I went there.

I needed to move quickly, as the burning was getting worse. I went to the area where clothing was sold, and quickly found a pair of androgynous khaki pants, a pair of socks, an androgynous top, and a package of panties. I moved quickly to the checkout line, and stood there, my skin burning more, waiting my turn as the cashiers chatted with their customers.

Finally, it was my turn. I placed the clothing on the counter, and asked the cashier if it was okay if I went straight to the changing room and changed as soon as we were done. I explained that I had spilled some chemicals on me, and needed to get out of those clothes, but didn’t want them to think I was trying to steal any clothing.

The cashier said “sure”, and started ringing up the clothing. All went well until she picked up the panties.

“These are panties,” she said.

“Yes they are”, I replied.

“These are panties,” she said again, much louder. People in line and at other cash registers started to turn toward us.

“These panties can’t possibly be for you” she announced very loudly. I heard a woman laugh behind me.

“No, of course not”, I stammered in my deep voice. “They’re for my wife”.

She finished ringing me up, and I left the area as quickly as possible. I went to the changing rooms and undressed. I noticed in the mirror that my chemical burned skin was bright red, from shoulders to feet. I dressed in the new clothes. Then, I headed toward the exit. On the way, I came across the cashier from before, who pointedly asked what I had done with the panties. I didn’t have any choice but to show her the open package. She looked me up and down, then she left me alone, to leave the store.

I felt embarrassed and humiliated. But at the same time, I felt proud of myself, for even going in, and buying what I bought.

Excuse Me, Ladies

2019

As often happens, my wife and I were at our local Kroger store. It was chilly and rainy out, a typical early March in Ohio. The wind was pretty strong, and by the time we got to the entrance, we were feeling pretty buffeted.

We were just entering, and in front of us, coming toward us, was an elderly black man on one of those powered carts that so many stores have now.

As we approached him, we moved to the side to allow him to pass, and he did the same thing, at the same time. He said: "Excuse me, ladies." and motioned for us to go on through. So, onward we went, thanking him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my wife smile, and I knew I was smiling too.

Such a simple phrase. In the overall scheme of things, it was a simple statement. But it is also the first time someone ever called me that in public. For me, it was momentous.

Rock the Boat?

2019

I'm the redhead, cis-gender wife.

Not too long ago I was on a social media site and was reading a post by a person
talking about transgender people.  They stated that if you have XX chromosomes,
you are for sure a woman, and if you have XY chromosomes, you are a male. They
said that there is nothing in between but that each person is either male or female,
depending on their chromosomes.  They said that no one could have a woman’s
genitals and be a man, or have male genitals and be a woman. They were basically
saying in a strong way that things are this way and no one else can say otherwise.

This got me to thinking about what this person was saying but also about what others
do and say.  This led to me wondering what has happened to common courtesy?  
What has happened with people respecting others just for being people?  Have you
actually talked with and spent time with a transgender person?  Honestly, I'll bet you
did, and possibly didn't even know it. Many people interact with transgender people
without having a clue. Do you know the fear, anxiety, and ridicule that plagues them?  
It’s about a person having the right to be who they are deep down.

I know some transgender people.  One thing I know is that transgender people are
the same as anyone else.  They want to be treated with common courtesy and not
made to feel like an outcast or that they are "dirty". They haven't chosen this life.  
Trust me if a transgender person could choose they wouldn't likely choose to be
transgender.

Frankly, it's like the debate about what percentage of people are intersex? Who
cares? If that percentage is 17%, 1.7%, 0.17%, or 0.017%, why does that matter?
They still exist, and they’re still who they are. They didn’t choose to be intersex.
Why does it matter if the overall number of transgender people is relatively small?
If the fact that the number of trans people is small gives you the sort of false
courage needed to act like a complete jackass toward them, what does that say
about you as a person? 

There are hurdles that transgender people have to deal with that most of us can't
begin to understand. Things most of us don’t even think about. These are things
that happen all the time to transgender people.  Once they accept the fact that they
are trans there are often lots of things they have to overcome that they might not
see looming ahead of them.  They have the problem of being ostracized by family,
society, and church. Mind you, churches and transgender people are a completely
different thing and one that I won't go into because it angers me the way
"Christians" treat LGBT people in general.

My wife was born with a guy’s body. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t one of the
girliest girls I’ve ever met. Since we faced her reality head-on, I’ve seen her
blossom and grow as a person in ways not possible before. It’s been fun and
educational to see her become herself.

It's not about rocking the boat.  Transgender people can't help that the person who
they really are doesn't fit the body that they have.  I believe people should be
advocates for the transgender community. Allies, they call us. I will do what I can to
help them because there are too many people out there who in their ignorance or
prejudice feel that transgender people shouldn't even exist or that being is a choice.
But we didn't choose to have the hair color we have, or the eye color we have, or
being left or right handed. We are born with these attributes. In the same way, a
transgender person is born with their attributes.  

I realize this may be preaching and I don't mean to be.  I also don't mean for this to

be shoved down anyone's throat. I just have seen transgender people marginalized
over and over, and I know that education and understanding can change lives.
Thinking about it, maybe it's a bit about rocking the boat, after all?

I Missed It Completely

2019

My wife and I were walking through the local Kroger store, intending to pick up some milk and a few other things. We had actually just come from the hearing to change my name. I was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans, a red long sleeve top, and a pair of ankle boots with a bit of a heel. My hair, recently styled into a pixie cut, was looking nice.

As we walked through the store, a tall man was walking toward us and passed us slowly on my right side. After he passed, my wife started giggling. I looked at her, and she just grinned. I asked her what she was laughing about.

She made me wait a moment while she giggled some more. Then she told me. "You just got checked out", she said. I had no idea what she was talking about. She explained to me that the man who had just gone past us had checked me out, twice, head to toe, in the way that men check out a woman.

You know what? I didn't notice a thing. I missed it completely. But goodness, was I grinning at that point!

Roses and Chocolate

2018

Valentine’s Day is a time that people give each other presents of some sort, to declare their love for them. The wife often gets some sort of present, and if her husband is a good person, she gets some sort of thoughtful gift. Often, in a marriage, the husband doesn’t get a present per se, but typically is either treated to a special home-cooked meal (though typically, the wife is taken out to dinner, so this is less common than one might think), and/or the woman will give herself sexually, as a treat for the husband.

My awesome wife is a little uncommon in many ways, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. We did the special homecooked meal at least as often as we went out, but she also always got me a card and some sort of candy. Often it was Swedish Fish, a favorite of mine, or Reese Cups, another favorite. She always makes sure she shows me that she loves me.

I remember a few times years back, at least one of them being Valentine’s Day, when my wife gave me flowers. I couldn’t pin down dates, or even the years in which it happened. There were a few different years that she gave me flowers at some point in the year. She did so with a big grin, which I suspect is very similar to the grin I have when I give her flowers. I love to give her flowers because I know that getting them makes her feel special.

I remember feeling awkward when she gave me flowers. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to accept them? Was I supposed to be all manly and refuse them, and tell her she should keep them for herself to enjoy? I remember asking her why flowers, of all things to give me, and she said something along the lines of that she loves me and wanted to give me flowers too. Guys, she said, get flowers too.

I don’t know any guys who get flowers from the woman in their life. Exceptions exist, of course. Death of a loved one, perhaps?

She intended it for good, and to make me smile, and I knew it then, as I know it now. So, I did smile, because the fact that she was thinking about me, and wanted to make me smile, made me happy.

That didn’t remove the thoughts from my head. Why had she chosen flowers? Did she think I was a girl or something? Everyone knows girls get flowers. Was there something she was thinking, subconsciously, that moved her to get flowers for me, rather than something manlier, like a candy bar, a screwdriver, or some socks?

I smelled them because when you give someone flowers, they always smell them, and if they don’t, the person who gave them the flowers always seems to say, “Don’t forget to smell them!”. 

Besides, I have always liked the soft and pretty scents that can be found in flowers. Smelling flowers has always made me feel good. But, though getting them, and smelling them made me feel good, I still wondered why she gave them to me, and, why getting flowers, a girly thing, made me feel so good?

Fast forward to 2018, and into the reality that I’m transgender. Valentine’s Day came and went again this year. As with each previous year, my wife had a card for me (and the card this year was a very sweet card indeed!) and Reese Cups. She cooked us a very tasty steak dinner. I didn’t even have to eat the green beans (I really don’t like vegetables) she made!

But you know what? I was thinking the next morning after the holiday, that I now realized something I should have realized years ago. I like getting flowers. Getting flowers makes me feel warm inside. I’ve not yet been given flowers since we came to understand what has been going on inside me all these years. You know what? I can’t wait!