Transgender? Get Ready to Blow Up Your Life!
When I was a child, my friend Jason and I dreamed up a simple method to accomplish the impossible.
Being children, Jason and I expected the laws of physics to be defined by scientists, not revealed by observing Nature. This convenient loophole made ignorance the most obvious path to superhuman feats. If you didn’t know your own limitations, teleportation, manifesting rocks from nowhere, and time travel opened up to you.
Jason summed up our Grand Theory of Physics with the phrase “you can’t argue with stupidity.” While scientists debated whether we should be able to fly to the future with our dinosaur pets, those of us too dumb to know otherwise would just do it.
Despite the obvious pejorative aspects of Jason’s summary, I find it applies to me pretty well. In my software career, I had the tendency to try something daring before determining if it was technically feasible. Several people commented on solutions I designed, claiming “I never knew you could do that!”
Similarly, I am six months into transitioning gender. I approached my transition with my typical slapdash attention, but in spite of my lack of planning, something seems to be working.
Right, well…
You can’t argue with stupidity.
Transition is just too big
When I committed to transitioning gender last year, the commitment was pretty loose. I applied an estrogen patch, sure, but I didn’t expect actually to transition. What I expected was to experiment a bit with hormone therapy — dip my toe in the water, maybe wear a skirt once in while, nothing serious. It was almost a surprise when I discovered how great I felt, that my body and mind were responding extremely well to estrogen.
For me (at least), the most significant barrier to beginning transition was that it seemed so large. The problem seemed too complex. The list contained too many checkboxes — new clothes, a makeup kit, voice lessons, remembering how to walk in heels — and these are purely physical aspects!
Legally, I had to change my name, my Social Security records, my birth certificate, driver’s license, insurance, bank records, and every loyalty program that promised free chips if I only bought 10 sandwiches first.
Looking outward, what about my family? My friends? My career? My future as a human?
Yet now, six months later, I find myself close to finished. I mean, anybody around me can tell there is much more to do in my transition. But the list of things above? Largely complete. Looking at where I was in December, 2022, I was shocked to find myself where I hoped I would be in June, 2023. Some items on the list completed quickly once I got started. What seemed such a large problem was a group of small problems I just didn’t know how to attack.
But I am Amethysta. Physically, mentally — legally — I am Amethysta. I don’t say “for all intents and purposes.” I am Amethysta. Yes, there are further changes I want to make, just like any cisgender woman does as she ages. This is why we explore gender and identity our entire lives — to continue to evolve who we are and why we are.
Don’t listen to your parents
There is a credo most managers and parents fail to recognize: “nothing succeeds like success.” When a team or child fails to complete a task, we choose to punish, not to understand. But there is nothing more potent than past success in building future competence.
The last team I managed had trouble completing anything. They were their own biggest barrier — communication was non-existent, there was no sense of camaraderie, and we could not plan because we didn’t know what we were missing.
We took on one small task — one I knew we could finish, and we did. Then we took on another task, and another, until the tasks grew more complicated. Suddenly, when nobody was looking, the team became competent. When they felt success — regardless of how small the success was — they realized they were capable of not just that success, but much larger. It was exhilarating.
Living your true life as a member of the LGBTQ community is daunting. It can feel like trudging through a dark forest filled with vines, puddles, and thorns. But sometimes all it takes is blindly forcing your way through the forest until you realize you emerged into the sun again.
Blowing up your mind
Life — like a gender transition — is never “finished.” Life is a process and never a project, and we only continue to move forward when we choose to do it. Sometimes, you get very lucky and things magically fall into place because — like I am — you are too dumb to realize your own limitations.
A friend of mine (not Jason this time) told me this about her own transition:
You must be willing to blow up your life.
She did. I don’t recommend the path she took, as much as I admire her strength of character. She had a purpose and she followed it. It was not a snap decision — this was a lifestyle choice many years in the making — but the ramifications of the decision reached every corner of her life. She navigated her path successfully; it must have been harrowing.
Her story is a graphic demonstration that — in order to finish something — you must first start it. There is no rebirth without death. There is no Spring that doesn’t follow Winter. Every beginning implies an ending elsewhere. In some fortunate cases, that ending will be positive.
You must commit to the change, however. You must be willing to bury the past in hope of a future blossom. I don’t mean that you must commit to a larger goal down the line — that you must decide whether to transition gender or not, once and for all, right now! That is a goal made up of hundreds of smaller decisions. Maybe making one or two of those decisions will convince you of the path — in either direction.
You can do it!
I recognize each of us has limitations, and I do not diminish the reality that we face. There will be people who do not want you to succeed, who may be threatened by your success. But every small success you make builds until neither you nor your detractors can stop you any longer.
If you wonder if you are capable of transitioning gender, you are. Maybe you can transition right now, maybe it will be easier when the kids are grown, or maybe after you retire. You may need to be satisfied with the ability to wear your preferred gender’s fashion on a weekend when nobody sees you.
But start the process by believing in yourself.
What looked impossible to me was not. If my story helps in any way, lean into it. Reach out to me and I will be your cheerleader. I know you will succeed — no matter how small it may appear. Those successes are not small. Those successes are your ticket to freedom — to be yourself, to live your life, to feel happy.
Rollo May’s clinical research indicated that accepting and integrating our deepest desires and motivations makes us happier. And not just happier to be ourselves, but happier for other people to be themselves as well. Finding yourself — finding your identity — is your greatest good in this lifetime. It so happens that your greatest good serves society’s greater good at the same time.
Can you do that for your Sister?
