Brave? No. Inspirational Difference Maker? Maybe.

I have been called brave and inspirational, but I am not an outspoken advocate of the trans community.  How much of a difference do I make by just living authentically?

This week, a friend of mine told me that he used to be homophobic, but by watching me go through my transition, I unknowingly helped him grow.  We have known each other for a few years, but this was the first time he really opened up to me about these things.

I used to be homophobic; I used to be narrow minded.  You may not realize it, but being your friend, knowing you and seeing your strength, knowing your story, your struggle, helped me evolve as a person.  Thank you Gabrielle.

These words touched me deeply, and they come on the heels of a loss in our Little League community, as a young man and volunteer sadly ended his own life around Thanksgiving.  My 53-year-old friend and I attended a celebration of life this afternoon along with other friends, family, and volunteers.  This is not the first time I have been told I have influenced someone, but it is certainly one of the more poignant things someone has said since I began my journey.

Bravery vs. Courage

Throughout my transition, people—especially cisgender people—have called me “brave” for coming out.  While I appreciate the sentiment, I have never really known how to take that praise.  To me, a brave person is a hero:  a firefighter, a person risking their life for another, a soldier.  I am none of things.  Coming out as transgender was ultimately a necessity.  I risked my marriage, but it already had issues.  Maybe that makes me courageous, but me coming out is not comparable to entering a burning building.

Granted, there is a fine line between bravery and courageousness.  Some may say there is none, but in my experience, I see subtle differences.  It took great courage to transition knowing that doing so would irreversibly turn my life upside down and blow up what remained of my marriage.  I faced losing my family, children, and friends; credibility; and respect.  Honestly, I did not have a choice.  I would have destroyed myself if I had not started transition.  So if I was a hero to anyone, it was to myself, not to anyone else.  For those near me, my transition caused pain.  No one is erecting a statue of me because I came out as transgender.

I am not the only one that questions bravery and transition.  Recently, I came across the following tweet:

So someone told me today (name protected) not to call transwomen brave.  I’m want to understand why.  There are so many women on here that are living their real identity.  I am sure there is a fear, but bravery is not the absence of fear.  It’s living in spite of it. Thoughts please?

-@JessKJordan2015

I responded much as I did above, saying that I did not feel my coming out was an heroic act.  This question came from a trans woman, which shows that everyone has questions; everyone seeks answers.  (For the record, the tweeter was happy to accept my take on the situation.)

Inspirational

Those that call me inspirational generally come from the trans community.  Apparently after nearly 3 years living full-time (and another 1 1/2 years of questioning), I am doing something right in the eyes of my local community.    I finally “pass,” and my voice is decent enough (at least to them) that I have unknowingly set some sort of example of what could be if others transition.   Those in my support group—especially those that met me when I first started attending over four years ago—have watched my journey.  They have heard about my trials and tribulations:  the extended & heartbreaking fights with my wife, the extensiveness of the depression I would not admit to for years, how I took control of my hormones, stories of how I presented in public for the first time, how I upgraded my career from retail supervisor to county worker, how I exhaustively researched surgeons, . . . the list goes on.  And yet, here I stand.

I am doing the thing.  I am transitioning, and I am doing it on own terms.  Apparently, this is inspirational.  When I speak, people in my bubble apparently listen.  At the very least, they do not tune me out.  I have had my fair share of challenges (see almost all of my previous posts as examples, especially the early ones).  Almost anyone who transitions faces challenges.  That’s no secret.  Part of what defines our stories is related to how we handle those obstacles and how we chose to be obstructed by or overcome the hurdles.  When people see me, I think some see me someone who has solved some cryptic, complicated equation to passing and acceptance.  These people see me living authentically, and that alone is inspirational.  If she can do it, I can do it, too.

The Takeaway

I am no hero for breaking my family dynamic.  I am not brave for walking San Francisco Bay Area streets in a dress, coming out while working in a major public department store, or owning my role as a mother of young children.  However, I will accept courageous.  Doing all of these things are risks.  Even on Bay Area streets, bigots and transphobia exists.  Transitioning in front of the public subjected me to the immediate judgement of my guests.  Having my children accept me as a mother when once I had another title could have alienated them and led to resentment.  For me—for my transition—these were necessary risks to take, including the very large risk of irreparably damaging my marriage.  Those that have parallels to my story may find solace and inspiration knowing that I have done what I can and push on.  That makes me happy.  It means I am making a difference even if I am not shouting my trans identity from every street corner.

Some day, I may do more.  There may be a time when I take an outspoken role in my community.  For now, I am content to continue to figure things out and share my story to those that are open and willing to listen.  I will continue to attend Pride events like Trans March.  I speak on transgender patient panels about health care quality.  I am proud of my The New York Times video released earlier this year.  I quietly advocate and assist where and when I can, while not losing focus on my own transition.  My story is not over.  There is still more to tell, and I hope I can continue to inspire others to tell there stories and live their lives authentically.

I am have learned that just by being me, I can make a difference.  Whether we label that brave, courageous, or inspirational, it really does not matter too much in the end.  The fact that I making a difference is the important point.  I set just one example, and for some, that might be the example they need to move forward and overcome challenges.  It’s heartwarming when someone actually shares that with me.  I thank my friend for sharing his thoughts.  He could have never said anything, and I may never have known.  But as I have caused him to evolve, so has he made me change, as I further understand what I bring to the conversation.  He may ultimately help me understand how to hone my voice in the larger world.  Trans or cis, we must remember that we all have the power to make a difference, and we may be doing it without even knowing it just by living our authentic lives.