Typing with mittens on

How much power, if any, does my pre-transition past have over me?

Basically, I'm still very new to all things LGBT, and I have no choice but to admit it, I'm ignorant of /so much/ of LGBT history. To a large extent, LGBT history is really only learned by LGBT people – or perhaps those close to someone LGBT, a family member maybe. None of which was the case for me. So when the BBC puts on a series of programmes with LGBT (ok, mostly "G") themes, I thought it would do me good to watch and learn.

The first LGBT event I ever went to was Summer 2014, a march in London. I didn't really have any friends who I could go /with/, so I went along on my own – and yes, I enjoyed the day, but it was an event that seemed oddly without purpose or direction, somewhat sparsely attended, and I made only fleeting connections to other people. Then, later that year, something started to change: I started to find a group of people, on Twitter, who I became friends with. Like, /really/ friends – in a way that I didn't even realise I was missing before. Then in June 2015, I met up with some of these people, face-to-face, for the first time.

Thoughts from Sparkle 2017

A long and self-indulgent ramble through my experiences of having Scleroderma.

Trans Day of Visibility is nice, but participation is not mandatory. I've taken part, "been visible", before — but this year I'll be doing something different.

I often find myself reflecting, thinking about how I got here. I transitioned for the same reason that any trans person does: to be happier. So obviously, for at least quite a few years leading up to age 38, I wasn't very happy. "Ah," says the lazy voice in my brain, "you should have come out sooner! If you'd have come out at, say, age 20, you could have enjoyed a good chunk of your twenties, and all of your thirties, properly! Without the man-suit." I find that this is an easy trap to fall into.

What if filling in your name on a web form was done using a drop-down menu?

One or two friends aren't entirely accepting of my transition. Deadnaming, misgendering, sniping. Next time I see them, I don't expect that they will have stopped deadnaming me. Next time I see them, they'll hurt me again. So why would I go back? Why would I knowingly place myself in the way of harm? What possible payback is there, which would make such hurt worthwhile? And even if it was somehow “worth it” – why the hell should I put up with this?

Uneasy thoughts and consent violations: Pride isn't perfect.

Assuming I change employers at some point before I retire, then when that happens, I'll almost certainly be working with an almost completely clean slate. My new colleagues will know neither who I am, nor who I was, prior to transition. How open will I be about being trans? Happy to mention it just a readily as I'd mention that I like a good pint? Happy to talk about it, but only if it comes up? Rather not talk about it? Will I go out of my way to /avoid/ saying that I'm trans? Would I /lie/ about it, deny being trans, rewrite history?