Witnessing a Birth of Sorts

I share this story because I want to honor my friend Tori in recognition of her role in my life as I emerged anew. 

In 1999, about the time I was being assessed and diagnosed at the Vancouver Hospital’s Gender Clinic, I made a couple of calls to a support group in the area. Their brochure listed a phone number and stated calls could be made on Thursday nights if you needed to speak to someone. Otherwise, you could leave a message, and someone would get back to you. The woman who answered was friendly and explained the group’s purpose and how one would attend their meetings and other events. Membership was reserved for those who had been vetted and approved by the membership committee. Confidentiality and security of personal information were very high on the group’s priority list.

Given the group’s stated purpose was to provide a safe place for heterosexual men to cross-dress and socialize, learn from each other, and support each other, I never did follow through with joining or even attending a meeting as a guest. Though I cross-dressed from time to time, it was not a hobby or a form of socializing, as it seemed to be for those who were part of this group. At least, that was my assumption. 

In all honesty, perhaps my never venturing to go to a meeting had more to do with my fears. I was terrified to venture out in public, even to a friendly place where everyone else had as much to lose if anyone was to find out. Many in this group kept this part of their lives a closely guarded secret.

The second time I called the support line, a man answered. It turned out to be the woman’s husband, one of the group’s officers. I don’t recall if he was the president at the time or just the head of one of the committees. I asked a few more questions and learned a bit more about the group, but by then, I think I had already decided against joining. 

As I have already shared, I met Tori in person on Labor Day weekend, 2010. Since then, she has told me a few things about our encounter that have given me pause for thought and made me appreciate her sensitive nature.

She had struggled with choosing between going to the barbecue party or attending that  Sunday’s evening service at her church. It troubled he so much that she spoke to her pastor about it. She told him she had a strong premonition she was to meet someone new. Who? She didn’t know. The pastor told her that if God put that on her heart, she should go to the party.

Perhaps the most significant consequence of our encounter is that I had the privilege of going to Tori’s workplace to present workshops to her bosses and co-workers on the realities of being trans and what transition is all about. Because at the end of the day, I explained to them transition is a group experience, and the group is the context.

You may be wondering how it is that Tori, who has been presenting as herself beautifully at church, was only then transitioning at work. The short answer is she was not alone. Many transgender persons find themselves in a similar predicament. You could blame society for making it so difficult for people to be themselves, especially when one is gender non-conforming in one way or another. And she was also not alone in finally coming to the point where living a dual existence—going to work as a male but living outside of work as a female—was no longer tenable. To say it was stressful is putting it mildly.

When trans people need to live honestly with themselves (and others) and can no longer be delayed, something has to give. Fortunately, more and more trans persons are finding the strength to do what they must. I’m sure Tori would be the first to point out that her decision had nothing to do with bravery and that it was desperation. I can relate to that. But it is bravery nonetheless.

To anyone who would say being trans is a choice, stop and consider for a moment; who would choose the most public solutions for such a private and deeply personal struggle? The only options are whether you will cave in and kill yourself, and many do or choose life, even if it means making changes in one’s body through medical and surgical means.

On February 21, I had the incredible privilege of seeing my friend leave her workplace as a man for the last time. When she returned to work the following Monday, she was Tori. On that day, her new life began in earnest as she finally shed the remnants of her male persona.

Congratulations, Tori! I love you for who you are and for having listened to your heart more than once.

With Tori, July 2011.

Don't be afraid to add a comment below... I always appreciate feedback!