New Flight Restrictions Specifying Gender

I sent the following question to the Trasportation Security Administration today:

How are full time transgender people supposed to specify their gender when flying?

Most states still have very restrictive regulations, requiring costly sexual reassignment surgery prior to changing the gender marker.

It is also a WPATH (World Professional Association for Transgender Health) requirement that if the individual elects surgery, and more don't than do, the person electing the surgery must live full time in the new gender role prior to the surgery.

As a transgender woman, living full time in my preferred gender, I need to know what to report as my gender when I book my flight to get surgery, to travel across country on business or for job interviews outside my current state.

My gender is female. My driver's license is marked male. I should not have to present as male just to take a plane ride.

On behalf of myself and my fellow transgender human beings,

Sincerely,
Sophia Hawes

Puzzling Reactions

My memories of the previous night were jumbled but clear enough to understand, from Evening's last frantic phone call to being ordered away by the Queen of the Mists, the discovery of the hope chest, and my bargain with Tybalt. It was the Queen's reaction that puzzled me the most. Evening's death was a mystery and a tragedy, but there was an answer waiting there for me to find it; the existence of the hope chest told me that, if nothing else. The Queen's response to her death was another matter. I could have understood shock, sorrow, or even anger at the messenger.
-- Seanan McGuire, Rosemary and Rue

It was bound to happen. I was warned by several of my friends who went before, but I still find it hard to believe. When I first transitioned in Louisville 5 months ago, I shifted rapidly to all skirts and more femme, even though I was planning to half-and-half between skirts and slacks.

As I looked in the mirror today, after putting on my forest green button-up blouse draped over my jeans in preparation for going to The Paper Moon tonight, I noticed I was settling for less femme for going out clubbing. I haven't been to this lesbian club, yet, so I don't know what the moderately femme expectation is. I know I'm dressed not too differently from the majority of femme lesbians in Louisville or Fort Worth. I am bringing my dress and makeup along, just in case the wardrobe expectations are a little higher. It's supposed to be eclectic dance night on Saturdays, so it seems like the ideal time for me to introduce myself.

The other significant change in my attitude is that I'm not lonely. I'm open to love, but I'm not craving a companion, craving someone to hold me and touch me as I did almost the entire time I was in Louisville. I'm home, I'm alone, and I'm fine. Perhaps, it was the anxiety combined with the hormones that left me aching for someone's lap or shoulder. Perhaps, it was the fear of ultimate rejection that made me look in people's eyes for romance. Perhaps it's because people are so friendly here.

I seem to have reached a point where I'm comfortable just being me.

There is, however, one thing remaining that makes me feel uncomfortable: feeling like I have the wrong genitalia for a relationship. Whether it's with a woman or a man, I want to love them with a woman's parts and not a man's.

That being said, I have a tentative surgery date now set for May 11, which is 7 months and 2 days away, having arranged to send my deposit to the office in Thailand. My next steps are to arrange to have retirement funds rolled over into an IRA, so I can book my flight to Bangkok. The cost right now is 1,020 US dollars. Then comes getting my passport and visa, if necessary.

Monday afternoon, I have a visit with the person who is to be my primary physician in Salt Lake City. I found her through my insurance, and called the family health clinic which is her office. I spoke with the receptionist, and because I want to see the doctor to check my iron levels, she started asking if I wanted a referral to an endocrynologist. I told her about the endo I was seeing in Louisville, and when she asked why I was seeing her, she asked and I told her why. She assured me that I was not the first person of my type with her, but I might be with the doctor she assigned me to. She also asked if I was wanting the doctor to handle my hormone treatments.

In the end, I was scheduled for a physical Monday afternoon. I was asked if I wanted to have an internist do it, or a regular doctor. I decided I wanted a regular doctor to do it, at least for now.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie

Rally

Better remember how to put everything back how we found it!
-- Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams

As I found the end of the line and began to lie down in black in front of the LDS offices last night with thousands of other people on a chill night, I reflected on the events that had brought me to this point.

I got an email from Peter on Wednesday, reflecting on how well our conversation after church went. He went on to state as "just a gay man," he felt concern for the hatred directed at fellow human beings--a hatred that was designed to infectiously poison the soul, honestly felt by some to be salvation, completely ignorant of what scientific research has shown us to be true.

Doesn't the book of revelation state that there will be false prophets, who will turn the people's hearts against the teachings of the one known as Christ. Is it a coincidence, therefore, that the leadership of the Mormon church are known by its clergy as prophets? Is it also a coincidence that they are teaching that people cannot trust how they are created and can evolve beyond homosexuality? But psychologists agree that self-repression is only a temporary cure and can lead to inability to grow spiritually.

Peter's email told me that a rally was being organized to protest the ignorance spouted by the LDS prophets. We were to meet at the park across the street from the temple grounds about 7 PM.

When I finally got to the location, I had to park up a hill on State Street, where I had difficulty parallel parking the car and wound up leaving it on the curb. As I walked down State Street toward S. Temple Street, I joined a lesbian couple walking down the hill, introducing myself in our short journey together.

We parted ways at the park, where I looked for Peter, moving closer to the center of the immense crowd of thousands to more clearly here what the speaker was saying. We were there, gay, straight, lesbian, transgender, and of all faiths to send a clear message to gay LDS youth: that they are loved and supported in the very heart of South Lake City, home of the LDS Church. Instructions were given out, the police were thanked for their support, and we crossed the street to the temple to lie head-to-toe, the chill wind blowing.

Many people began to walk around us, some carrying signs, while passer-by honked there horns in support, sending up cheers from the human chain.

Eventually a second ring formed, but as people began to have to move for fear of hypothermia, the first ring joined the second. After about 30 minutes, we heard someone loudly proclaiming thank you, the ring dismantled and many people remained talking, deciding where to spend the rest of the night. I went back to my car, and unable to hold my bladder in the icy cold winds, I had to make a call of nature by the right rear tire.

As I drove home, I saw the hundreds of people still milling around the temple and let my GPS navigation system on my cell phone take me home, refelecting on the fact that I have indeed found the LGBT culture in Salt Lake City, and it's alive and vibrant. I am looking forward to getting to know many of these people over the years I will be here.

To the gay and trans youth: Know that you are loved, and don't forget to be proud of how God made you.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie

Outings Rethought

As soon as I saw them in the lobby, I realized my mistake. They were looking at their watches, holding hands, then looking at their watches again. Their glance up at me was quick, perfunctory, and when I got into the car and sat in the back like their sullen teenage daughter I could see that this was not an outing I should be on.
-- Lorrie Moore, A Gate at the Stairs

I had made plans to find a local lesbian club to better integrate into the community. It was to be my next step to building my support safety net--but I changed my mind.

I am alone, but not lonely. I don't have a craving to have someone right now (although I did have a craving for sticky sweet chicken when I gave myself my estrogen shot yesterday). I need to get in touch with the trans community here, but I'm procrastinating--and maybe that's best.


I have been stealth for two weeks now. If anyone at work besides the human resource department knows I was not born female, they haven't even dropped a hint. I'm just the new girl. And I have already shown in this last week that I can program as creatively and and efficiently as the guys. I finished my task for the two-week period plus two more. I literally ran out of things to do.

Robin gave me 2 boxes of soup, a mug to heat it in and a crock pot, simply because she first wanted to apologize for some mood she thought she was projecting and then just to make space in her own pantry. She had even loaned me 5 unsolicited dollars to have enough gas until payday on Friday. Fortunately, I didn't need to use her money and returned it Friday once I was had my last check from my last job. We have become office buddies and lunch partners as we walk each day to the cafeteria for a salad.

Filling up Friday morning, I went inside the 7-11 to get a breakfast item as I usually do when an older male clerk suddenly took over the register from a younger woman as I walked up to the register. I was dressed for the first time for work in jeans and a subdued black and white top, my long sleeved shawl on top; so I was surprised when he brightend up, started telling me how I made his day and told me I had such a beautiful smile. When he tried to run my debit card, the pump locked the transaction out, forcing me to hang up the fuel pump.

Back inside, as I walked up to the register, with a big smile, he asked to see my smile again. Handing me my receipt, he made sure to lingeringly hold his hand on me, and told me to come again. I told him, "Probably in a couple of weeks."

"You promise?" he asked, as he gently let me have my hand back.

At work, one of my team members accepted a promotion, and we all went to lunch to celebrate at The Bohemian, a German restaurant not too far from my apartment. I, of course, wound up settling for the Reuben sandwich with garlic fries. We had a couple sides of hugs onion rings served with a thousand-island like dressing.

Yesterday, I was just sleeping in lethargically, until I gave myself my hormone shot. My stomach started to turm right away. As I was contemplating a mood change in the next few minutes, I began thinking of orange chicken, like you might have at a Chinese buffet. Those thoughts plagued me for several hours until I finally stopped by Panda Express on the way home to get my sticky sweet chicken.

Meanwhile, I got a new Android phone at Verizon, cancelling my AT&T service, since AT&T had pushed a Windows Mobile Update that killed my phone. Now I'm on a new phone with a new OS and a new carrier, but my number's the same.

My next stop was Ross superstore. I missed Ross when I was in Kentucky. I have always gotten really gret clothes at Ross for incredibly cheap prices, even though I have to browse the racks for what few items are in my taste and size. I settled for two long burlap-like skirts, one a size 14 in brown and the other a size 12 in black to replace the two torn silk skirts, one of which was torn in a small conference room by the tray for a dry-erase board. I also picked up two button-up business blouses to replace the blouse that started to lose its sleeve during my interview. One of the blouses is a lime green and the other is forest green. They both accentuated my figure really well and looked fantastic with the skirts. The total cost for two business mix-and-match outfits was 51 dollars before tax.

Back home, I copied important contact information to my new phone, let everyone know I was reachable again and had and hour-and-a-half phone call with my youngest daughter, killing both of our phones.

This morning, I sat with Peter during church, listening to an author tell about writing "the perfect story," followed by beautiful music and storytelling performed live in our church by Irish singer, songwriter and storyteller Celia. The music was incredible, and her stories rapturous. She was still entertaining the children when I left to come home.

Please be sure to thank Amy, who guilted me into writing this week's entry, because she told other people that it's an example of a great way blogs can be used to keep in touch with friends who have moved and was handing out the URL.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie

Dead Phone Zone

Most Black lesbians were closeted, correctly recognizing the Black community's lack of interest in our position, as well as the many more immediate threats to our survival as Black people in a racist society.
-- Audre Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name

My phone died and it will be the weekend before I can take it to be fixed. Sunday morning, a Windows Mobile update was pushed to the phone and by 8 PM, it was dead and refused to take a charge.

I found some incredibly nice people at the South Valley Unitarian Society (read: Church) a few miles from my place. The women of the church gave me a wonderful welcome Sunday and I attended the Interweave (the UU organization for promoting LGBT rights) potluck halfway up the mountain. As usual, I was the only trans person there, among the wonderful gay men and lesbians, and we just talked about whatever was on our minds. Peter told me as I was sitting there that I just radiated "woman." (Pretty amazing for someone who was once "all boy" before puberty.) I understand that more specific trans community support is available at the Pride Center.

A coworker took me to lunch yesterday and today. There's a cafeteria we walk to where I can get a small soup, salad and small fountain drink for little over three dollars; besides, it's nice to have her along for company. She tells me there is a lesbian club in town called the Paper Moon, picking up on the fact that I'm mostly lesbian. It sounds so similar to the hangout in Louisville I sometimes frequented that it's worth checking out.

Again, my supposed reputation seems to proceed me, as the Senior Vice President of Technology asked me yesterday on the way out the door if I was Sophie, was glad they finally got to meet me and said, "I have heard great things about you." I could only meekly reply, "I hope I can live up to my expectations."

My children are thriving. My oldest, almost 13, has made honor band, the volleyball team and is in AP courses. My youngest, just turned 7, is in Excel, expects me to call and tell her "Good Night" every night. Sometimes, on the phone, she slips and calls me "Mom," pauses and corrects it before I realize she was actually talking to me. It's going to be hard the next few days since my cell phone just died out of the clear blue Sunday. Meanwhile, I'm keeping my chat window open until 8:30 PM mountain time.

I am starting to finally adjust to my new place. It's starting to feel like home--my home. I am back to playing a lot of Farmville and reading to while away the time. Eventually, I'll restore my activity levels to their former state.

Meanwhile, I think I have crops to harvest.

Hugs and God Bless,

Sophie

Laid Bare

She is laid bare

For all to see

This creature that once

Was inside me.

No 5 o'clock shadow

Mars her face

The locks of hair

Her jawline grace.

Is this comely woman

In the mirror I see

Really my reality?

I'm lovely.

I'm me.

My image fits,

Resonating

Reality.

This woman outside

Was once trapped inside.

No wonder she clawed

Through the facade.

I fought this battle

To hold on...

Only to lose...

To win.

Is this really me

I see

My reality

Unfettered

Lovely

Me.

A Tremendous Shift

The next thing I knew, Cortez was grabbing my shoulders.
-- Kelly Armstrong, Dime Store Magic

I have made a tremendous shift, and I don't know when it will feel like home. As I was at a rest stop at the highest point of Interstate 80, high up in the rocky mountains of Wyoming, the moment of crossing a tremendous hurdle was made absolutely physical to me.

Two time zones separate me now from my support group and friends in Kentucky, one from my family and friends in Texas. In the last week and a half, I have been starting over.

Last week, I arrived at my apartment; I had two to select from, preferring the upstairs apartment with balconies front and back. The lawns are well kept, I got my furniture on the same day and I found myself making multiple runs to the store to get everything I need.

I live right across the street from a Target. From the store, the mountain range is absolutely beautiful. The road that separates the apartment from Target is on the same side as my bedroom and the traffic is quite noisy. Yet, somehow, I do get to sleep.

Sunday morning, I explored Salt Lake City Unitarian Church. I had some culture shock as I walked in and sat through the morning service. The greeter introduced herself after I had signed in and was preparing my own badge, there was no Adult Round Table, no Story for All Ages and no sharing of Joys and Concerns. As I listened from my pew near the back, I noticed that the minister performed the entire service solo. It was after the service, however, that everyone seemed to warm up around cups of coffee and ministry tables during the coffee hour.

Monday morning, I started crying, because I put the wrong address into the GPS of AT&T Navigator on my cell phone. It was rapdily approaching 9 AM, the time I was supposed to start work and I was utterly lost. The number 411 gave me was not answered, I tried several gas stations and finally it dawned on me that I had my supervisor's number in my call history--he had called me Saturday as I was driving cross country. With his help I eventually made it in.

I met my supervisor downstairs, he showed me my new cubicle and we went downstairs to find out when the next employee orientation was; it was 15 minutes in progress, already. So as I was filling out my paperwork, making a mess with a blueberry muffin, one of the Human Resources representatives came over to snap my badge picture in my red gold and black blouse. When I saw how well that turned out, I made a vow to scan it and use it as my new profile. During the orientation, I was pleased to see that sexual orientation and gender identity have been added to the company's list of protected categories, even though they don't appear on the application. I also found out that if I know any other Java developers, they will pay an $8000 referral for anyone that I recommend that lasts 6 months or longer.

It took about a week, but my computer has been set up, I am back at work with my first task, and we are overcoming the last "new employee" hurdles so that I can start developing. I have already jumped in with some intellectual discussion with my team members and am starting to get really involved.

I had to break stealth with human resources to try to find out whether or not the medical plan will cover sexual reassignment surgery. The exclusions were deliberately vague, and in the end, I received the following confirmation from SelectHealth:

Unfortunately, Sophie is correct, SelectHealth does not provide  coverage for this type of procedure.  The member would have the opportunity to
appeal and we can certainly provide information with regard to that process.

With regard to which plan would be most advantageous for the member - I don't fee comfortable making a recomendation, although, if they have truly confirmed that IRS guidelines allow the HSA funds to be used for the procedure they would at least benefit from the tax savings. 

It looks like I am still going to be faced with the same fight.

I have almost finished putting everything away, I finally got decent internet service the day before yesterday (my first attempt with Clear was a mistake), got to know a couple of my neighbors and got the address of the other Unitarian community and their directions today. The Interweave group (for LGBT concerns) of the church appears to be having a Potluck tomorrow at 5 PM, and, even though I am not in a state to bring something to the potluck, contacted the organizers, leaving them my number to call back.

I noticed there is some local Transgender support here in Salt Lake City, via a few web searches, and my next priority after establishing a church home is to get involved with them again.

Last Saturday, I discovered an open mic event at the coffee shop down the street and relatively cute guy by the name of Owen introduced himself as I was leaving, saying he was a talent scout in search of poets for open mic events.

I had already made up my mind I was returning.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie