Wow. A whole year of absence. I apologize. I had to battle some demons and get myself back in track. I would like to get back on track by telling you all how facing my past did me more good than I ever thought it would.
I went to my 10 year high school reunion over the weekend. I will not lie: I wasn't there because I wanted to. At first. My best friend was incredibly into planning our reunion and making it epic. For about four months, she added classmates who added more classmates, she wanted opinions on gifts/souvenirs and privately discussed her excitement with me about it all. I wasn't into it.
Being transgender, I didn't want to face the possible ridicule or rejection. Even at 29, those things weigh heavily at times. As comfortable as I am in my skin and my identity, I don't like negative confrontation. I was apprehensive and frankly, uninterested. But, I supported my best friend in her endeavor to make our reunion the best ever.
In November, she passed away suddenly of a seizure. One of my first thoughts after the funeral was I had to be at the reunion, for her. Kesha would have drug me there regardless. Our friends and I, some of us anyway, stalled until the last minute. I could still back out, come up with a reason to not participate. But it all felt wrong. Not being there would have been a mistake I could never make right.
At a local pub, I spent Friday night drinking, talking, laughing and rocking out with some of my best friends. People I kept in close contact with, others whom I hadn't seen in 10 years. It was amazing. I was comfortable, I hardly got misgendered, and not a single person called me by my birth name the whole night. It was amazing. I couldn't have asked for more unless I actually asked for something.
Saturday was dualy exciting. One of my best friends married his best friend in a wonderful, small ceremony. This guy and I have been friends since the 7th grade and have always been able to just pick up where we left off no mater how much time had passed.
It hasn't been an easy road. When I told him I was transgender, it definitely altered our relationship. It took us about seven years to catch back up and be able to explain what happened to us. We were naive and uneducated in how to navigate the changes I set forth for us. But, at the end of it all, he asked if he could take me under his wing and help me catch up and assimilate more smoothly into the male community. I was excited as hell, so of course I said yes! He hasn't disappointed me or alienated me. It's been nice to have a sensitive friend who is willing to bring me into his circle and isn't afraid to stand up for me. I'm lucky to have the support I do.
His wedding was beautiful and I was honored to be there. It was also part three of our reunion. I skipped family day at the water park for the wedding. But thebig part of the reunion was after the wedding and I was more nervous for that than any other part of the reunion. More people means more opinions means more opportunity for anxiety to kick my ass.
I only had one person of the dozens I talked to tell me they don't agree. It wasn't negative and I didn't feel threatened. It was just awkward. She's a great person and I'm glad she was able to engage and ask a few questions without being rude or hateful. But I also had two conversations that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
The thing about our pasts, transgender or not, is that all relationships have roots. Whether or not a beautiful tree blooms from watering those roots or not is a product of time, but the roots are always there. I spoke with one amazing person who I knew in elementary school who immediately came to me and initiated conversation by telling me how amazing I looked. Sometimes, that can be delicate. I didn't want to be told I "pass" well. And she knew how to use finese to make it a genuine comment on how I am finally comfortable being me. Wonderful interaction; everybody deserves that kind of respect.
Another conversation was with two people I had classes with. We weren't exceptionally close, but we always said hi in the hallway at school. These two people are, by my standards, successful in what they do because they do what they love to do. The lady honored me by telling me she had paid attention when I first started transitioning on Facebook and checked in from time to time. I was beginning to feel incredibly loved by people I didn't realize knew I still existed.
The guy we were talking with came up and congratulated me on living authentically. He shared how we had an unspoken bond back in 8th grade. It was something neither of us vocalized to the other, but we both felt this safety with each other. It was for our 8th grade Christmas program. He was my partner and I believe we were paired by height. I'm still short, but he was a couple inches taller than I was. I remember being made fun of by some of the popular kids and this guy, who was going through a very similar experience as I was at the time, even though we never talked about it, simply made the experience bearable by being nice to me. Being with him for that helped me maintain a semblance of confidence. Something I was struggling with immensely at the time. I felt normal, safe, and wanted. Maybe wanted isnt the word. It's not. The word I want is accepted. He made me feel accepted when everybody else around me was rejecting me.
Fast forward to 2005. He came out as gay our senior year and it wasn't a surprise to anybody. He decided that his happiness was what mattered. Around the same time, I was figuring out what the word transgender meant. Maybe, subconsciously, his courage propelled me forward. I came out to my mom a month before graduation. Fast forward to 2015. The same kid from 8th grade who accepted me when I needed it most without knowing, was giving me multiple hugs and congratulating me on embracing my journey.
It was incredibly easy to talk to these people and their words will forever reverberate in my soul. I never thought I would be able to be in a room with these people and be myself. But with the amount of love and support my former classmates showed me, I'm no longer afraid of my past coming back to haunt me. As scary as it can be, being afraid of being outed, we have to try and live authentically. When we do that, we draw to us people who will respect us and embrace us wholeheartedly. I may not see these people when they come into town, but I will always see them as people in my support system.
