The joys of friendship and the release of coming out—what it feels like to have the dam break and find only support

I happened to be in a city that I no longer live in and was there somewhat randomly when my sister texted me to ask if I would be there a few days later.  Weird.  What are the chances?

She said, “I’ve got a few hours between flights, would be great to see you.”  I wanted to see her, but also knew I would be out and about in happiness attire.  She did not yet know about me being trans.  I called her.

“That’s great you will be in town.  Totally randomly, so will I.”

“Fantastic,” she enthused.

“I’m getting divorced and I’m transgender.  Well, really that’s why.  She doesn’t want a transgender husband.”  Best to come out quickly.  Like tearing off a band-aid.  

“What?”

Repeat.

“Oh my God,” she said, “I had no idea.”

“Anyway, when you see me, I will be presenting.  Normally I would have just told you when you got here and could see for yourself, but since your kids are going to be with you, wanted to make sure you didn’t mind them seeing me that way.”

“Of course not,” she said.

Anyway, that’s what happened.  And then as soon as it happened, I didn’t feel like keeping a secret with anyone in my family anymore.  You can’t ask children to keep secrets for adults.  What kind of message does that send?  So that weekend I told everyone in my family, immediate and extended…one by one at first, and then on a family blast.  Same thing with my friends.

Gosh, and what loving feedback I received in return.  Curiosity, yes, but mostly love and support.  Two of my closest male friends told me they loved me!  That was a first.

Somehow, it is the hormones which are giving me the courage now.  There is something very real about settling into myself that has been made, is being made, possible because of these magical pills.  And when people tell me ‘no’, you can’t dress like that here, it’s dangerous, or people will judge you, I just want to do it more…because it is me, and I don’t want to be invisible anymore.

The more I do it, the weirder it feels to wear boy clothes—it is like drag.  Quite literally, when I have put on a suit to go to work meetings, the way the clothes hang on me feels all wrong.

And the cherished wife of one of my best friends is a very tall and elegant woman.  She was so supportive, “Oh good,” she said, “I have all these shoes that I’ve been wondering who to give to.  They will fit you perfectly.  Maybe they’re conservative for you?”

“I dress conservatively,” I said.

“Good.”

And then they invited me to visit them for the weekend.  And this turned into a blessed weekend of being with my closest friends, my children, and a real taste of everything as natural, without shame, just joy and normalcy.

A tonic for the soul.