Ten years ago today, March 25, 2014, (well really around 11 PM the night before), I declared to the world that I am Sophie. I began living my Truth. I was 47 years old. I'd previously told close friends either face to face or via a YouTube video I made.
The results? I lost 90% of my friends (many of whom vowed to support me then vanished); never received another job offer for Instructional design (my masters degree); my marriage (which was really tossed when I was thrown out months before); and, for a time, I was disowned by my family. Happily, that is no longer the case. After I lost my bookstore job, I couldn't find another job at all, despite sending out ten resumes a day for years. Literally. Even Burger King wouldn't hire me, and I had experience working there!
In any case that first day, I spent at the Keystone Conference. There, among the most supportive group of people a transgender woman could find, I took my first steps as a full time female. The following Monday (March 31) is when my journey really hit reality: my first day at work as Sophie. (I wrote about that HERE.) That's when I began to experience the misgendering, the Hate, and the worst that rich customers could throw at me, including having a local church crusade against me. They would come in and stand 20 feet in front of me as I was behind the registers, and just stare at me. If chased away by me or management, they'd send someone else. This usually happened on Sundays.
However, I had support. My friends and coworkers threw me a party on my one year anniversary as Sophie (so that's nine years ago.) I'd never felt as loved or appreciated before or since. My transgender friends honored me by showing up and mingling with bookstore friends, as well as people who've known me much longer.
I must admit that this last decade has been brutal. I dwell on all I've lost, especially my separation from Wife and Daughter. The Darkness has almost taken me more than once. Here at PSU, I've spent weeks when I wasn't in class or work laying down and just staring at the ceiling, wondering why I should continue to live. It's a question I continue to ask every single morning and when I lay in bed at night. The answer is obvious. As Lisa used to say "one bad day..."
Fast forward to now. I've been back at Penn State for five years studying about why cisgender people hate TG people so much that they pass laws banning us from public, vow to "eradicate" us, call us groomers and pedophiles, drive us to suicide, and murder us. (RIP Nex.) My roomie/bestie is here with me. I've made some friends and acquaintances, but for the most part I've been isolated from the transgender community. There are no transgender events like there were back home like Angela's Laptop Lounge. That's why going to Keystone was such a joy this past weekend.
So it's been ten years: a decade. Yes, I have changed. I've learned what Hell is like, that Hope Lies, and that things can ALWAYS be worse. I also learned how much small gestures of kindness can mean the world to a person (like me.) I have learned a lot about anti-transgender hate, to the point that I am now considered an expert in the field (PhD ABD does that.) Reading about all this hate really puts things in perspective and does damage to my soul- how could it not? In any case, I've made it to ten years.
So, how will I mark this occasion? Well, money is tight, and rent is due soon. And bills, so many bills. That means I probably won't go out, or if I do, it will be only for a drink across the street (I live across from a restaurant.) I'll probably toast the day with some Glenmorangie. No party this year. No feast of friends. Alive she cried.
Just another day.
Be well.
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