Exactly one month ago, I spent the morning obsessively digging through my clothes and my makeup. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted that day to be as normal of a day as possible. At the same time, I really just wanted to call in sick, and crawl back in bed.
That was my first day as me, at work.
A month has passed. Did that day go as seamlessly as I would have liked? No! Of course not. Nothing ever does. I was nauseous. Walking into work that day, it was clear that my co-workers were going to do their best to not draw attention to the fact that [birth name] didn’t work here anymore, replaced with this new person: Parker. No one said a word of encouragement. No one asked if I was doing okay.
Then again, no one said anything negative, either. That’s all I had really hoped for.
In the past month, I’ve gone from trying to be a bathroom ninja – getting in and out without anyone seeing me – to just going in whenever I needed to, just like the other women in the office. Why? Because I am a woman. This is my office. That is my bathroom. Deal with it.
I feel there are people here who are still a little uneasy about me, but oh, well, there’s nothing I can really do about that. I’ve tried being friendlier, a little more outgoing, but I think people are still walking on egg shells in an attempt to avoid saying something offensive.
I did hear one thing yesterday, that really hurt my feelings: I was in one of the bathroom stalls, when I overheard two other women in the bathroom talking:
I still think it’s weird that we have to share a bathroom with a tranny.
Obviously, these women didn’t know I was in there at the time, but the question, “is this really how people talk about me when I’m not around?” started playing through my head on repeat. I didn’t recognize these voices, so I don’t think it was anyone I work with, but still, ouch.
Anyway, here’s to 1 month down. Hopefully a year from now, I’ll be able to look back at this situation and laugh.