Becoming Jen (Part 16)

Crossing That Floor

 The time had finally come. October 2005. It would be T-Day the day of my Transition

I had now told so many work colleagues about my better side that it was no longer going to stay secret. I knew when I told one particular individual, that she couldn’t keep it secret, so I guess I brought it on myself. Vicky confirmed that there was now some gossip going around. I decided that rather then let people talk, which would inevitably lead to me being imagined as some weekend drag queen, I wanted  everyone to see the real me and judge for themselves. So I decided I needed to start working as Jenny. There was no real planning, and I can’t even fully recall the thought processes that I went through.. I was also now living apart from Caz, and staying with a couple of friends so I just decided the time was probably right. For someone who has always taken the path of least resistance in life, this decision was by far the most important one I would ever take. Transition at work would be the last most important piece of the puzzle. Once undertaken, I would then be Jenny absolutely full time, with no going back. In terms of this blog title I would have Crossed the Floor.

I have read the stories of other girl’s transition at work. They always seem to have properly planned ahead, with letters to Personnel (I hate the term HR, it just sounds Orwellian) and meeting after meeting to discuss all aspects. I had done none of this. I had shown my colleagues (including the director of Personnel, who I regard as a friend) pictures and hinted that one day I may work in my new gender, but that’s as far as it had gone.

T-Day minus 5

Transition was not going to be simple. Although I hadn’t planned properly I felt I needed to give my decision proper and thorough consideration. So I sat down, one evening, steadied myself with a stiff Chocolate Milk and did some thinking.

My job as a full time Union Officer is a unique role in the NHS. I am not conventionally  managed but at the same time answerable to our 3,000 members. I manage no one but I have to organise the branch and the reps. To transition in this role could not be done quietly or subtlety as I guess the job is fairly public. I have to deal with the local press. Make presentations and speak to groups of staff. I also have to represent individuals at very stressful points in their working lives. If I made someone feel uncomfortable then I could not do my job effectively. If I was dealing with a female member and they wanted and needed a female representative, do I legitimately insist that they accept me as a woman. The other big risk for me was that I have to be elected every year. If the membership did not feel comfortable with a transgendered woman leading their branch, they could vote me out, and there would be little I could do.

I was confident that in the workplace no one would overtly discriminate against my gender identity. It would be what was said when I wasn’t there. I knew that my employer and Union would support me, and I accepted that I was lucky to be working in such a liberal and Inclusive environment. I’m sure that if I had been a builder (unlikely with my DIY prowess) or even worked in a Pot Bank (Stokie for Pottery Manufacturer) it would have been so much harder or well nigh impossible. I knew that many other girls transitioning had not been able to stay with their employer long term. Either the employer or colleagues had forced them out of their job. I often read that it was easier to make a complete fresh start, with a new employer. That way you could cast off that old worn out male identity. It would be so difficult for everyone I come into contact with to disassociate me from the Xxxxx Harvey that they knew and loved (or tolerated more like).

Question fizzed through my mind Would I ever be totally accepted as a woman? Would I always be seen as Xxxxx in a skirt! Could I still be taken seriously, or would the sniggering gossip that was abound turn me into the biggest joke. Would my female colleagues see me as one of their own? Would my male colleagues ever see me as a woman ? Would I be viewed a genderless outside ?r

Phew, all these things whizzing round my head gave me a headache. When I had started this musing, I was fairly certain what I was going to do. The more I thought about it the more problems, barriers and hurdles I could see ahead. Every consideration seemed to suggest I was taking the most absurd risk of my life. I even started to question my Transgenderness.

Why me? Why do I need to do this? Why can’t I just get on with my life? After all  if my marriage had been solid and survived I would ever have had the courage have come out. Did that mean my drive to a new gender was not as strong as those other girls I have read about? Should I just stop now? Could I take everything back? Although I was not content I was able to sort of  function as a male at work. Is contentment really enough of a reason? Surely I should have been suicidal if I had to stay as a man. I just wasn’t, well not at that time (though these thought had been a times through my life). What about my family. I knew mum and dad would be shocked (and disappointed) that I would be living full time as a woman.

I needed something stronger so I supplemented the Chocolate Milk with my favourite gourmet snack of Barbeque Beef Hoola Hoop crisps with Galaxy Milk Chocolate, eaten together at the same time..

I managed to get a grip. I hadn’t come this far to give up now. Even if All these obstacles were piled together and doubled were not enough. I was a woman. From that first exhilarating moment I first stepped out in the daylight I knew it was right for me. Since then, at every opportunity of choice I had presented as a woman. This was no passing phase. In the cheesy camp words of Gloria Gaynor “I am what I am”. Who cares why? Logic was not going to help me. My decision was right. I needed to think about the Hows and not the Whys

And so to the How. I have read that other girls had taken some time off work with their colleagues prepared for the change when they got back. I didn’t see that working. Apart from the fact that my workload was crazy full, I didn’t have an easily defined bunch of work colleagues. I could be with new staff and members every day. There was no way to prepare them all. I decided for a touch of Shock and Awe approach( or depending how it was received Shock and Awful)

T-day minus 3

So one wet Friday in Early October I spent my day ringing around various departments of the NHS in North Staffordshire. I picked out those managers and colleagues I would be meeting with that next week. The phone calls were all fairly brief.

“Hi it’s Xxxxx Harvey from Unison. Just thought I would let you know that from Monday I will be coming to work as a woman and my name will be Jenny”.

In those few simple words my life changed. Some of my colleagues had been prepared for, but never expected it so soon. Others had no pre warning. I guess everyone was at the least wrong footed, while others felt hacked down from behind. To their credit, and my eternal gratitude, they were to a man and woman supportive and kind, although I suspect some were still concerned how they would react to me when they first met new me.

I ended that day feeling drained, excited, scared, resigned, elated, worried, numb and excited again. Whatever I had done, it was done. I spent the weekend trying desperately not to think about it. I failed.

T-Day

I got up so early on the Monday. I knew I had to get my appearance just right. Every woman is judged on appearance at work. A Trans woman doubly so. I knew everyone would be judging me even if they weren’t conscious they were doing so. If I made a hash of my appearance that first crucial impression would be tough to overcome. This would make the difference to see I would be regarded as a woman or a Transvestite.

I wanted to look feminine and appropriate. I could easily overdo the girliness that would not usually be seen at work. Too understated would not suit the tools I had to work with. It was no simple task to transform me from the shambling oaf that was my male appearance to a sophisticated (what!) working woman, so I needed plenty of time. I plumped (very plumped in my case), for a long black skirt, pink stripped blouse under a dark pink v neck sweater, and my trusty black zipped jacket, I applied my makeup with more care and subtlety than ever before, and made sure my wig, that was so necessary to make it all work was perfectly styled….and so, with no going back it was off to work.

Out of the 4 colleagues that inhabit (or clutter up) the office only Dave had not met Jen before. I burst into the office with declaring “I’ve done something different with my hair, can you tell”. As ice breaker jokes go it was very poor, but it was a  start. I had decided that I would try and use self deprecating humour as an approach to A) put people at ease and B). to blunt any potential unkind comments . This was the exact same way I used humour at school to counter bullying. I must admit I came to regret a little the over reliance of this tactic. It was useful at first, but after time it didn’t help with serious acceptance.

Anyway on that first day I was due to do a presentation to some visiting assessors from an NHS initiative called Improving Working Lives. There would be about 20 people in the meeting with most being my employers senior managers. I didn’t imagine the visitors would not be expecting a fledgling transitioned Trans woman and I worried they might be distracted from my presentation. So I decided to open with the ice breaker of my now legendary and poorNHS trans “joke”. In the NHS there has been a huge pay restructure called Agenda for Change (I guess you’re ahead of me) so I opened with. “Hi I’m Jenny Harvey of Unison and the Staffside Chair. And I wish someone had told me earlier that Agenda for Change didn’t mean I actually had to Change my Gender” Well It seemed to work and nervous laughter turned to genuine laughter, and everyone seemed at ease. I have discussed this approach with my Speech Therapist, who thinks I am wrong to draw attention to my gender in this manner and it is like I am trying to excuse and apologise for who I am. In reflection she is right, and I do make a conscious effort now to avoid this, though as a frustrated stand up it’s hard to drop a joke that works.

Well this was quite a baptism of fire for my first day. No settling in gently for me, but that was good to be honest, it meant I had no time for anxiety. The only hiccup on the day occurred at lunch. Ian our Branch Treasurer came into the office. Now Ian was the only branch officer I hadn’t told about my gender identity. I had just missed him out by accident. He really had no idea. So he stood chatting to a colleague unaware that the female figure in the corner was me. I walked over to Ian saying “Hi Ian, I am sorry I didn’t warn you” As he looked at me and then at hearing my voice, the phrase “The penny dropped” just doesn’t do justice. He visibly paled and swayed at the shock. The worry was, that Ian had not that long suffered a heart attack. I felt really bad, that I had surprised him like this. When he returned to his office, I phoned him to check he was ok, and we had a good chat. Ian has been a rock since and never once slipped up with my name or pronoun. I was just glad I hadn’t finished him off.

Well that was day one over. It had gone really well. I was absolutely exhausted through the stress and the concentration needed to present as female without lapsing in male mannerisms. So there you have it. I Crossed The Floor. I was now a member of the other party, and I was happy there.