If you don’t believe decisions made long ago can come back to haunt you, think again.

It was late 1985 and I was about to graduate college. My legal name included a “II”. Mom, being Mom, wanted the name on my diploma to be “Jr.”, which by naming conventions was the correct suffix. I could have cared less. Why she didn’t raise this issue sooner, I cannot answer.

We found a lawyer to handle the change and one evening I received a call from said lawyer. I remember the call if it were yesterday.

He said, “You have two options.”

When you’re the only son, how does one tell your parents you’re becoming a woman?

That question ate at me for the longest time and is the main reason I waited so long in life to transition.

I faced telling them. I faced hurting them.

This is that story.

After several months on hormones and the discovery of my breasts, I knew that I couldn’t keep my transition a secret for much longer. I didn’t want to keep it a secret, but then there was the angst (fear) of informing the office, parents, the world and dealing with the reactions…

Two years ago, today, I was sitting at my desk in the office alone. Everyone else in the department was in the large conference room. Human Resources had called a meeting to announce to everyone that a change was occurring. Gene (me) was transitioning from male to female. Gene was transgendered.

As this was happening, I was on Facebook having copy/pasted the following into the body of a post. I clicked Share.

And waited.

The time has come to address the cryptic posts of the last few months, to clear some New Year’s resolutions that have lingered way too…

Genevieve Wicker

“The best thing about being a girl is, now I don’t have to pretend to be a boy.” — Avery Jackson, National Geographic

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