Am I happy? Yes, but I'm also full of rage.

I was recently asked if I was happy (about having transitioned, making the change, paying the price, etc.). I wonder how many people who knew me before are equally curious?   

One friend admitted that he prayed for me to fail in my efforts so I would change my mind and go back to living as a man, but that was a while ago.

It's been five years since I started to disclose to my family and friends, and I was nearly paralyzed by the fear that my life would be over. I was also afraid for my marriage and hoped it would survive. It didn't. So how to answer the question? The truth is that the answer is not a "yes" nor a "no." It is both. I have never been as at peace in my own skin as I am today, but that does not mean I am happy with life.

The loss of friends did not materialize as I had feared, or I should say, it didn't happen the way I feared it would. What happened with old friends is that after their initial expression of love and support for my decision, I never heard from most of them again. For many, I was and still might be the only transgender person they know. I'm okay with that, and if it helps them open up their heart for the next trans person(s) who may enter their circle, then great.

Their silence could have more to do with the fact that I am divorced. Is it denial on their part? It is always awkward for friends when one has been known as one half of a couple, right? There may be another, simpler explanation for their silence, "out of sight, out of mind. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt, or am I being too generous by still referring to them as friends?

I am suspicious and doubtful of how well things are really going for transgender persons today. Support for marriage equality may be spreading, and more and more companies and organizations are coming out as LGBTQ+-friendly, anti-bullying campaigns to raise awareness about the suicide rate among teens struggling with their sexuality are also on the increase. Yet, despite all this good that is going on, I fear life for transgender persons is not much better than it was five years ago when I began my public journey.

A trans friend sent me a link to an article in the Christian Post this morning. I won't dignify the story by giving you the link; why give them unmerited page clicks? It was a vicious transphobic rant by some Christians who lacked compassion or did not attempt to understand. This person's judgment is that being transgender is a sin and that all the well-meaning support for trans persons is simply perpetuating fraud and an evil perversion.

Transgender people are the new target of conservative Christian Right now that they have lost the gay and lesbian battle. A friend and blogger shared that he gets many letters from pastors telling him his writings have helped them grow in their understanding and acceptance of gays and lesbians but confess they are terrified about the prospect of a Trans person entering their church. By the way, this blogger is straight Christian, yet he has been speaking out on behalf of LGBTQ+ people.

He says little about the T in the LGBTQ+ discussion with these pastors because they are uncomfortable with the idea of body modifications and any discussion regarding gender fluidity. The binary view of gender is too well entrenched in their thinking.

It made me think if I had known that finally coming out as Trans and deciding to transform my body medically and surgically would be as unsavory to so many, would it have made a difference? Though it might have given me more anxiety, the answer is no. I've said this before, but I'll repeat it: I chose to embrace life and not do what 41% of transgender persons have tried. Suicide has sometimes seemed like the only other option, and G_d only knows how many have succeeded if so many have tried but failed. I must admit that the thought often crossed my mind to make a purposefully failed attempt simply so people would take my need to transition seriously—to make that proverbial cry for help.

By all indications, most transgender persons and specialists in the field would say that my transition has been a success. I, too, believe that I have been fortunate in that regard. But it is of little comfort to me when I see how society is still so unbending and unwilling to let us live in peace and treat us like the elephant in the room. We are a long way from enjoying equality if people out there claim that Trans people have fallen for an evil lie and that changing our bodies is a sin. Why are pastors terrified about the prospect of someone like me coming into their churches? Am I—and by extension all Trans persons—really that horrible and scary?

Among some of my new transgender friends, there are a few who give a rat's ass about what people think. The only drum they march to is their own, and they have not allowed people's opinions of them or how well they may pass as the men and women they identify as to keep them from living. They are a thousand times more courageous than me in that regard. I have agonized about how well I am accepted and whether or not I can go through life without drawing any attention to myself, especially negative attention. So much of my emotional energy has been consumed dealing with perceptions. 

So am I happy? I've already given it away in the title of this blog…"Yes, but I'm full of rage." I am happy to be alive. I'm happy to be able to share my story, especially with those who don't have the token transgender person in their circle of friends. I am happy that my transition has gone off without a hitch, medically speaking. I am happy for new friends who don't have a history of my former self and are not tripped up by that history—that we can write a new one together void of that duality. I am also happy that I can be transparent about my past and have nothing to hide. These are just some of the things that I am happy about. But as I said, I am also full of rage.

My rage is due to the systemic and pervasive discrimination I see towards transgender persons and anyone who appears to be gender non-conforming. Negative articles like the one my friend sent me are painful to read but equally painful is when discrimination is silent and when people find it easier to turn a blind eye to our needs and existence than to engage.

That may help explain why the T is so invisible in the LGBTQ+ picture. It also might help explain why my marriage, like many other Trans marriages has failed. As long as society views us with disdain, how can we ever expect that those who matter most will not be affected by the negative perceptions? It is unfair to our spouses when the only possible explanation for why a marriage may survive is because the wife (of the male-to-female transgender person) is assumed to be a lesbian or at least bisexual. That notion is cruel, not just because it is homophobic and transphobic, but because it is not anyone's business.

On the other hand, when marriages survive other "devastating" life situations, such as cancer, they are held in high esteem and honored for their courage and proof of their love for one another. Why can't that be society's take for those who transition after marriage? — I think it might have given mine a better chance of survival.

What to do with this newfound rage? 

This rage is a new thing for me. I could only put my finger on it a couple of days ago. This realization may have been awakened by the questions from my friend, who wondered if I was really happy. The fact is I have been in a strange kind of head space for a while; I have been avoiding contact with people. I thought it was depression I was dealing with, but it's not; it's rage.

By all outward appearances, the people around me have not been aware of anything because I have mastered the art of internalizing crap. Sorry to be so rude, but that is what it is, crap. This ability to bottle things up is not the best form of resiliency, but it allowed me to survive before I transitioned and is kicking in once again. But I am drained pretending all is okay, so I am speaking out today.

It's not okay when "Christians" accuse us of being perverse and write the stuff that makes it difficult, if not impossible, for transgender persons and our families. And I worry about the impact those comments may have on anyone— young or old—who, at that moment, is trying to decide whether to choose life or to end the nightmare.

I apologize for sounding so negative. I'm putting this rage into perspective, and I welcome any suggestions you may have. Leave me a comment or send me a private message. I would be honored.

Your comments are very much appreciated