K is for 'Kwarantine'

Yeah yeah, I know. It's cheaty, but I needed to write something about being on lockdown on a day I have been looking forward to for so long - Trans day of visibility. So I'm shamelessly copying something I penned for my workplace here.

Song du jour? - 'Inside' by Stiltskin - 'cos that's where I am!

Today, 31st March is Trans Day of Visibility – it’s a day I’ve been looking forward to since I came out as transgender last August, and one I intended to spend showing myself to the world as the capable (mostly!), confident woman that I have always been. Sadly the pandemic situation has made that impossible; and like many trans people globally I am in isolation – and for a number of reasons, effectively unable to live as myself for a period. But I do get to live, and consider a future; which is a blessing.

I’ve been a transgender woman since I was born – many of you will have read my blog or spoken with me since I came out and know my story, but for those who haven’t here’s the short version:

I knew I was ‘different’ when I was six

I came out to a psychiatrist aged 11, and got slapped back into the closet

I came out to a work colleague in 2000 and attempted to take my own life as a result

I spent the first 42 years of my life pretending to be someone else because I was frightened to be different, because the reaction when I shared my truth with people was so negative and because I believed that I could ‘cure’ myself by being as manly as possible. I now know that that isn’t possible – the only ‘cure’ to being transgender is to transition.

So why is the day of visibility so important to me and others in the community? – It’s for many reasons – here are a few of mine

1. Living a life underpinned by profound unhappiness is not really a life – it permeates everything you do and impacts those you love. To not address the root cause of such unhappiness because of ‘society’ or bigotry is just not on – one of the major stumbling blocks to trans people of my generation was the lack of visible role models – who was out there living a fulfilled life as a trans person when I was growing up? – Not very many; and the media portrayals of gender identity issues tended to focus on either the salacious or the comedic – things are changing, and if by living my life visibly, happily and successfully I can help a young trans person to realise that it’s ok to be trans, then that makes everything worth it.

2. A high proportion (but not all) trans people suffer with gender dysphoria – I do. It means that seeing a ‘man’ in the mirror is incredibly distressing – almost disabling at times. Being myself isn’t ‘dress-up’ or a costume – it’s just me, the outside matching the inside. Being able to choose the clothes I want to wear, to look the way I want to look is something that most people take totally for granted – I want to normalise that. We’re fortunate enough to work in a place with a simple dress code – ‘be comfortable’ – and I’d like to join in please 

3. I’m pretty good at what I do – Programme and Project Management; I’ve had a successful career, including global senior roles and have authored and co-authored international texts on project risk management. I’m a parent I’m a friend and I have done all of this as a transgender woman – being visible in doing these things reduces some of the stigma attached to people like me – ‘cos fundamentally, beneath it all, I am a human being, with all the same emotions, wants, dreams and needs as anyone else.

Life for trans people is still tough. I’m incredibly fortunate to work for an organisation that has supported me totally and utterly, but sadly this is not yet the norm – organisations which practice policies of inclusion get the best out of their people – and this translates to the bottom line. Outside of the workplace there is still a very vocal slice of bigotry aimed at the transgender community, and trans women in particular. I have been called a lot of very vicious and hurtful things over the last year – thankfully none of them in person – bigots are loudest when in front of a keyboard, but the words and actions hurt – and they hurt young trans people the hardest. Those things translate to real life consequences – I have attempted to take my life twice. And Stonewall’s stats are stark:

“Almost half (48 per cent) of trans people in Britain have attempted suicide at least once; 84 per cent have thought about it. More than half (55 per cent) have been diagnosed with depression at some point.”

So here I am – self isolated but visible. Living my life and asking you to see me doing it.