coming out, full circle

“I am looking to the future and see all of that new life to come as an adventure—a hard one indeed—but an adventurous and positive journey just as well.” Photo by Leslie Danger, 2012.

Coming Out, Full Circle

02.04.2013

I try not, but sometimes I must look over my life and the changes in it that have occurred since I “came out” as two-spirit (transgendered). It shows me where I have been and what I have overcome, and steels me for the future and what will come. And I think sometimes that people are amazed and I hope inspired by the stories of their peers, brothers, and sisters in the LBGTQ community.

I do not recommend the method I used to “come out”. I wrote a letter to all my relatives and sent it in the mail. When my parents and aunt got the letter, and realized that I was sending it to everyone, they intercepted the mail of my grandfathers to shield the Old Ones from it. Later, when they had a time to talk amongst themselves, they allowed the grandfathers to read my note. They need not have worried; the Old Ones were the least affected by my announcement and I recall my grandfather pulling me aside at a family cookout, and leaning in close, he kissed me on my cheek, and said, “I don’t care who or what you are. I love you and I will always love you.” The rest of my family would have done well to be as adaptable as the elderly unexpectedly were.

As it was, my parents had a hard time adjusting to my new gender identity and are still adjusting. I expected to be kicked out and I expected to be disowned. I did not expect tears. My father cried. My mother cried. I could not console them. They would grieve for many years before coming to a place of cautious acceptance. I always knew that they did not ever stop loving me. But I have thought since then that their love was somehow “tainted” or that their pride in me was reserved for only parts of me, “not this.”

One of my brothers would not speak to me for two years, or attend family events if he knew I was going to be there. That first holiday season I spent away from all family, homeless. But, I “snuck into” Christmas at my parents the next year when he was there, and had not been told I was coming. He is getting better each day, and I think his new wife is a positive influence and advocate for diversity, since we are now talking, texting, and being together at family events again.

I have an identical twin sister whose reaction is still up-in-the-air with the reality that her identical twin is now her fraternal twin. She sees this as a betrayal beyond the physical; as if she does not know this person who used to share all her secrets anymore. I think we have lost something of the unique bond that twins share and I grieve for this each day I have lost with her since. I am uncertain where we stand with one another at this point. I am mostly confused by this. However, returning to my homestate someday soon, I can work on this relationship and try to ascertain what is happening in my absence with her.

Today most of my family’s reservations have less to do with me personally, and more with how they will explain things to others as family friends see the very obvious changes in our family dynamics. “I thought you had twin girls?” or “How is C*****?” and having to explain that I am not that person and do not have that name anymore. My family calls me by a fairly genderless childhood nickname, not my birthname very often anymore. But after thirty years, I doubt they can ever drop the feminine pronouns to refer to me, and I give them that. They are always trying and getting better. I have been away from my home-state and family for some time now and given us all space to reconsider and grow “used to” the idea that I am now their son and brother after so many years as someone else.

I lost friends and I lost my husband of ten years one cold December night, when I left my marriage home in the middle of the night, and never returned. I was immediately homeless and lived for two weeks in the back of my truck, before being given a bed in a [woman’s] domestic violence shelter. There just was no place else for someone like me to go. I lived in a rural area with few resources for the homeless; this was the only place I could go in the county. There were no shelters for men or families like in the cities. Eventually, I moved onto transitional housing with a roommate at an apartment for people between shelters and independent living. I finished my associate’s degree at a community college during this time, and even moved into my own supported-living apartment for the first time since I was 21.

I could say that I “lost my faith” also when I “came out” as well. I vacillated for several months whether I was a sinner of choice, or was born this way. I was raised a Christian and in another time and place, I would have been one of those rabid evangelicals holding signs that say “God hates gays.” Good friends from my former church told me that if God wanted me to be a boy he would have given me a penis when I was born. One by one, these friends dropped out of my life, and little by little, I did lose my faith.

If we take a snapshot or an overview of my life at this moment when all seemed so bad, it amazes me how much I had lost: everything—financial (homelessness, loss of income), social (friends, family, church), emotional (stability), and spiritual (church, faith). In a way, everything that makes up a person’s essential identity was gone from my life. But as the story unfolded, I can look back and see how though this was tragic and immensely difficult, it was also a rare opportunity for a second chance to rewrite my whole story in a positive way.

For a time, having lost everything that made up who I was, I was greatly lost. I cannot stress how horrible this time in my life was, but how very necessary as well. I considered suicide many times. I began self-harming and cutting. I wrote sad and disturbed poetry. And I had no one to turn to, as friendless and without a faith-base as I was.

But when you question everything you ever knew or accepted about yourself, starting with the most immalleable characteristics of your identity, your gender, then also you begin to question all the things that make up who you are. And from that time I began rewriting my life and my identity. I looked at each facet of my identity and examined them all under the lens of free thought; the idea that everything was compromise-able in my new identity.

Having lost everything or changed everything that made me into the person who people knew up to this point, I was able to look at each facet or item independently. It was like everything—socially, spiritually, and emotionally, was laid out in front of me in a large lump of malleable clay. It was ready to be reshaped. As I took up each insensible handful of clay and examined each part of it subjectively, I asked how each item was serving me: was it helpful, was it necessary, was it good? I examined my core spiritual beliefs and the guilt associated with “being a sinner”, and rejected that teaching. I examined how I felt about myself and my poor self-esteem and made the decision to love myself as I was. I examined my “victim-status” I had donned from childhood abuse and poverty, and cast it off. And I placed these things which did not serve me aside, and used the rest to begin the reshaping: starting with my gender identity.

And though the process is not complete, I can say I like where it has taken me. I have replaced church friends with allies and the friends-closer-than-family. I am now at a place to accept their unconditional and undeserved love and it has given me clarity. I am not always pleased with how my body looks, but I am also at a place of acceptance in that. I have made positive changes in my spiritual life as well and found the Good Red Road of the two-spirits, which tells me that I am not a sinner or an outcast, but valuable and necessary to all life. It tells me that Creator does not make useless people or mistakes, but that I was born into this identity. I was not born “into the wrong body” as a victim but I was born two-spirited as Creator always intended. I have a real spiritual duty to the earth, my fellow beings, and myself as a two-spirited person. I replaced the guilt and rejection of the Christian faith with the Red Path of the ancestors. Nature is now my church and the earth is my mother. I have survived suicide and self-harming behaviors. My emotional state has stabilized, though I am ever vigilant and continue to be in counseling. I am becoming financially independent again, having now obtained a bachelor’s degree and some experience in my field. My continued absence from my family, who live in another state, has made all of our hearts grow fonder. Time away has been good for all of us as we all work out how we fit together as family again. I am looking forward to being reunited with my tribe and family and all I left behind soon. All goes in a circle as it should.

People who knew me “before-and-after” are equally amazed at the changes they see in me, even beyond the physical appearance. They either have forgotten that “other person” who existed in a microcosm of intolerance for thirty years, or they remember that sad person and applaud and love the new one who has emerged a more positive being. Sometimes I think that my life began in 2008 when I “came out” and that the person who existed before has died. But I cannot deny that I was raised a certain way and socialized as a different gender and person, but have somehow survived the better for it, or despite it all. Sometimes I feel very young, like a teenager just graduating from college at this point, and learning how to make his or her way in the world. But sometimes I think that “this is not my first pony-ride,” and I have the experience of a thirty-six year old as well. That is part of being two-spirited as well: seeing with two lenses—the experience of a whole life lived and the newness of one yet un-lived. And I am looking to the future and see all of that new life to come as an adventure—a hard one indeed—but an adventurous and positive journey just as well.

(C)henry francis redhouse, 2013. Artwork is property of its respective owners.