Karen62
02-07-2015, 03:47 AM
I've already written in other threads that my expected HRT start date of Thursday was indefinitely put on hold by a urologist who found an irregularity during a digital exam and now wants to do a prostate biopsy, and that put an unexpected halt to my plans to start HRT this week. I was more horrified about the HRT delay than the prostate thing (the circumstances and other surrounding factors lead me to believe this is a red herring). But there was good news this week, too:
1. I came out to my first non-medical care professional. I officially came out as TG person to the HR department at work. And I am pleased to say that the reception I was given was very positive and supportive. I couldn't have been more pleased. We'll wait to come out to my manager once I am well into HRT and start to detect some signs of change. I don't want to do it now when it is still a concept-to-be, but I will not wait too long. The HR rep said we'd do it when I was ready, and he'd be there to support both me and my manager.
2. I keep getting huge hugs from all of the medical caregivers to whom I reveal my "secret". I told the nurse who works up front in my primary doctor's clinic that I was transgendered (she has known me for years, and we always had a strong connection). She hardly waited for me to finish the news before she stood up, walked out from behind the reception counter and gave me the best, longest hug. That was on the day that I supposed to have started HRT. God I needed that hug. It was amazing medicine.
3. I came out to my first personal friend. Coming out to a doctor or an HR rep at work seems to be more of an intellectual exercise now, and I don't struggle with it much anymore. But this, well, this was hard.
This evening, I had the reaffirmation that I am friends with some of the finest people in the world. This friend of mine and I had been planning a 2-week trip back east to visit historical sites (we are both history buffs, and whereas I grew up back there, he's never been, and this long-planned trip was a Bucket List event in his life). However, I realized a couple of weeks ago the financial expense of the two-week road trip and the cost of the time off from work, when I am about to start going through transition and HRT (and none of my costs are covered by insurance -- my employer doesn't cover transgender care costs) were just too prohibitive. But most of all, I figured it would not be right for him to be cooped up with me in a car over two weeks when I will be an androgynous state with grown out hair, partial facial hair removal done, and (with any luck), well into HRT. I had "planned" on starting to come out to close friends after HRT was underway, figuring the idea that as it was already happening and I didn't want to stop would give me a tad more courage to face any resistance. I also figured I would win some and lose some people along the way, but that was beyond my control. But I needed to cancel my participation in this good man's Bucket List trip, and that would be heartbreaking to him (and me). He deserved to know why. So tonight we (he, his wonderful wife and I) got together for dinner. After dinner, after I had alluded to a bigger story to tell during dinner regarding my primary motivation for canceling my participation in this trip, we beat around the bush for a little bit, but then the time came.
I described the shame and humiliation I have felt for all of these years in my life. I said I had live for almost 50 of my 52 years with such a profound, deep, dark secret that no one could ever know, and it was very hard to get to an emotional place where I can talk about it, but I finally got there. I cried. I trembled. I could barely speak. I was so afraid that this great man and his great wife would silently listen, then politely tell me that it was good seeing me but it was time for their bedtime, escort me to the door and bid me goodnight, slamming the door on my rear end--forever. What happened instead was he cried with me. He listened for a few minutes with tears flowing freely all around and then he stood up, walked over to me and gave me the most warm, supportive hug I could have imagined.
In fact, I never imagined that. When I realized I owed it to him to reveal why I was canceling this important trip, I rehearsed the conversation in my head maybe a hundred times. I thought of all the possible contingencies and questions he and his wife might ask of me, but never once did I imagine that he'd cry with me or that he'd give me such an affirming embrace. I love this man as a brother. I was so afraid I'd lose him. Not because he is an intolerant person -- that's not true at all. I just figured it was too much chaos to dump on someone and then believe they'd not only accept the news, but embrace it with joy. But they did.
The 3 of us must have talked for an hour or 2 more. and after I had covered all of the points I wanted covered from my mental rehearsals (things I wanted them to know about me), I answered a few questions they had (loving, respectful questions, nothing crass or disrespectful), and then the conversation evolved into our regular conversation style, with humor, "recreational complaints" about work (he and his wife are both struggling while I feel quite fortunate right now), just normal stuff.
But all of this showed me that I can reveal my hideous, deep dark secret to people very dear to me and survive, and not only that, but that we can continue to have enjoyable, normal conversations that do not dwell on my TG status. We are still friends, and we love each other's company.
Despite my severe disappointment with my HRT postponement this week, I continue to walk down the path toward transition (I even made my first appointment at a laser/electro clinic for next week). I love that every day there is new momentum and new dedication in me. I feel stronger, and overcoming obstacles really reinforces this. A sweet friend told me today she felt I was unstoppable. I think so.
Karen
1. I came out to my first non-medical care professional. I officially came out as TG person to the HR department at work. And I am pleased to say that the reception I was given was very positive and supportive. I couldn't have been more pleased. We'll wait to come out to my manager once I am well into HRT and start to detect some signs of change. I don't want to do it now when it is still a concept-to-be, but I will not wait too long. The HR rep said we'd do it when I was ready, and he'd be there to support both me and my manager.
2. I keep getting huge hugs from all of the medical caregivers to whom I reveal my "secret". I told the nurse who works up front in my primary doctor's clinic that I was transgendered (she has known me for years, and we always had a strong connection). She hardly waited for me to finish the news before she stood up, walked out from behind the reception counter and gave me the best, longest hug. That was on the day that I supposed to have started HRT. God I needed that hug. It was amazing medicine.
3. I came out to my first personal friend. Coming out to a doctor or an HR rep at work seems to be more of an intellectual exercise now, and I don't struggle with it much anymore. But this, well, this was hard.
This evening, I had the reaffirmation that I am friends with some of the finest people in the world. This friend of mine and I had been planning a 2-week trip back east to visit historical sites (we are both history buffs, and whereas I grew up back there, he's never been, and this long-planned trip was a Bucket List event in his life). However, I realized a couple of weeks ago the financial expense of the two-week road trip and the cost of the time off from work, when I am about to start going through transition and HRT (and none of my costs are covered by insurance -- my employer doesn't cover transgender care costs) were just too prohibitive. But most of all, I figured it would not be right for him to be cooped up with me in a car over two weeks when I will be an androgynous state with grown out hair, partial facial hair removal done, and (with any luck), well into HRT. I had "planned" on starting to come out to close friends after HRT was underway, figuring the idea that as it was already happening and I didn't want to stop would give me a tad more courage to face any resistance. I also figured I would win some and lose some people along the way, but that was beyond my control. But I needed to cancel my participation in this good man's Bucket List trip, and that would be heartbreaking to him (and me). He deserved to know why. So tonight we (he, his wonderful wife and I) got together for dinner. After dinner, after I had alluded to a bigger story to tell during dinner regarding my primary motivation for canceling my participation in this trip, we beat around the bush for a little bit, but then the time came.
I described the shame and humiliation I have felt for all of these years in my life. I said I had live for almost 50 of my 52 years with such a profound, deep, dark secret that no one could ever know, and it was very hard to get to an emotional place where I can talk about it, but I finally got there. I cried. I trembled. I could barely speak. I was so afraid that this great man and his great wife would silently listen, then politely tell me that it was good seeing me but it was time for their bedtime, escort me to the door and bid me goodnight, slamming the door on my rear end--forever. What happened instead was he cried with me. He listened for a few minutes with tears flowing freely all around and then he stood up, walked over to me and gave me the most warm, supportive hug I could have imagined.
In fact, I never imagined that. When I realized I owed it to him to reveal why I was canceling this important trip, I rehearsed the conversation in my head maybe a hundred times. I thought of all the possible contingencies and questions he and his wife might ask of me, but never once did I imagine that he'd cry with me or that he'd give me such an affirming embrace. I love this man as a brother. I was so afraid I'd lose him. Not because he is an intolerant person -- that's not true at all. I just figured it was too much chaos to dump on someone and then believe they'd not only accept the news, but embrace it with joy. But they did.
The 3 of us must have talked for an hour or 2 more. and after I had covered all of the points I wanted covered from my mental rehearsals (things I wanted them to know about me), I answered a few questions they had (loving, respectful questions, nothing crass or disrespectful), and then the conversation evolved into our regular conversation style, with humor, "recreational complaints" about work (he and his wife are both struggling while I feel quite fortunate right now), just normal stuff.
But all of this showed me that I can reveal my hideous, deep dark secret to people very dear to me and survive, and not only that, but that we can continue to have enjoyable, normal conversations that do not dwell on my TG status. We are still friends, and we love each other's company.
Despite my severe disappointment with my HRT postponement this week, I continue to walk down the path toward transition (I even made my first appointment at a laser/electro clinic for next week). I love that every day there is new momentum and new dedication in me. I feel stronger, and overcoming obstacles really reinforces this. A sweet friend told me today she felt I was unstoppable. I think so.
Karen