Entering the next Phase of my Transition

 

Me and 15 of my new best friends at Paint the Town, 2025. Photo Credit: Chris Nightengale

Wow! It's been about six months since I wrote my last blog (at least the last one that I had the nerve to publish). I'd be lying, however, if I said that it's been a period too boring to share; on the contrary, the past six months have been crazy! There's all the global stuff like the instillation of a fascist leader in America who is actively trying to take away my (and my community's) rights. But there's also been a ton of personal stuff... some very difficult, while others very joyous. To say that it's been an emotional roller coaster would be an understatement, and a bad one at that. EVERYTHING has shifted in the past six months, including where I find community, who considers me a friend, what my needs are as a person, and what my goals are in my transition. If you asked me three months ago, I would voiced regret over something really stupid I did back in September, but now I've realized that this paradigm shift I'm experiencing was going to happen no matter what... it just needed a catalyst. 

That catalyst came last September in the form of an interpersonal conflict that, mostly due to my own sensitivity and insecurity, spiraled out of control. I won't go into details, other than to say there was a misunderstanding regarding a retreat for fellow CD's/Transwomen, poor communication regarding the misunderstanding, and I ended up taking the whole thing way too personally. Damage has been caused by that incident, and, to this day, I've had a hard time handling what happened. 

I think that is the first big issue that surfaced... I took the whole incident very hard, but WHY did I? What was it about this incident that bothered me so much? I know enough now (from therapy sessions, talking with people who coordinate similar events, and just one-on-ones with friends and family) that I wasn't in the wrong for feeling hurt, and even taking the situation as personally as I did, but why did it tear me down so much? Why was it such a big deal? Why did I act out so much? And is there a root cause of this hurt? 

The answer to that question has taken me several months to find. And in that time, I went to Minneapolis to visit my friend Hannah, Albany to visit my friend Natalie, Chicago (I was just there in case my wife needed anything, but I met up with several trans friends too, such as Julie and Myka), Chicago again (this time, for Paint the Town, which was coordinated by the same Julie I got to visit in the previous month), and the Keystone Gender Conference in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. 

All of these gatherings, get togethers, and girl's weekends offered up a piece of the puzzle, and it all finally came together this past weekend while I was attending my friend/sister/gender identity coach Jennifer Marie's workshop on finding your Gender Equilibrium (TM... it's her term!). Her stuff is amazing, and her story is really impactful. However, for the longest time, I thought of "Gender Equilibrium" as a term referring solely to gender identity and gender expression. At this point, I feel I have those mostly nailed down. I have never felt as confident or comfortable with my identity as a transgender woman (and trans women are women!) as I do now! Not a day goes by where I feel less at peace with my transition than I did the day before. It's seriously been one of the biggest blessings I could have ever asked for. But as Jenn was going through her presentation, and as the discussion was happening, a couple of really good points were brought up: 

First, Gender Equilibrium is a moving target.

But more importantly for me, Finding Gender Equilibrium requires far more than just peace with your gender identity or gender expression. Namely, social needs, habits, and even personality change significantly, and honestly, I didn't realize how much I ignored that component of my transition until this ordeal happened...

...The truth is that Terrence, who was happy being a part of the crowd with few, if any deep relationships (besides my marriage), and was also happy being a lone rider at times, isn't the same as Alicia, who values deeper interpersonal relationships, sisterhood, intentional time to "girl out," and wants to get to know as many other CD's/Trans-girls as possible. And I think it makes a lot of sense...

Like it or not, men and women socialize with each other very differently, and Terrence socialized with others very differently than Alicia does. I don't want to get into the specifics, but it's clear that my social needs, and my social strengths and my weaknesses have changed a lot. And the first point brought up from Jenn's workshop actually fits here too: 

When I first began exploring who Alicia was, I kept my findings pretty close to my vest (or, you can say "I put them in my bra," haha). Once I realized that I was going to transition, I was mostly inward focused on the first few years... yes, I had a great community on social media (especially Instagram, which is why I'd say it's my primary platform these days), and I had friends and relationships I poured into... but the truth was that I was more focused on coming out, figuring out how transitioning was going to look like, making a plan, and re-integrating myself into the world as Alicia. I was less worried about community and more worried about getting my name legally changed, figuring my hair out, getting a sense of style, and embracing my identity as Alicia. Still, I had some experiences connecting with fellow trans folx... I got to meet my favorite blogger in 2022, a week later, I got to meet a social media gal pal who lives in Canada. I got involved in Silicon Valley Pride, and had some really cool experiences. 

This worked until, I'd say, late 2023...

In November of 2023, I flew pretty (an expression for flying en femme) for the first time to visit my blogger friend Hannah for the 10 year anniversary of her social club, the MN T-Girls. While there, I had such a warm, uplifting experience, and left with a full heart. It felt like something I've always wanted to experience... gender affirming in a way... it felt like a community of sisters! I knew that this wouldn't necessarily be MY community (because they were in Minnesota and I'm from California... I was mostly visiting to celebrate my friend Hannah and what she has done!), but it was still very special. 

So this brings me to a huge distinction between the social habits of women vs. men... I want to say that I am making generalizations here, so if this doesn't perfectly fit you, please don't be offended... it's very YMMV: Ladies like to hang out together... in groups usually. In high school, you would see lots of different "cliques" of girls that would do everything together... go to the mall together, go to Prom together, and do life together. I even saw it quite a bit in college. Men tend to be a lot more individualistic (simply not as much hanging out, unless it's to see the game or something). Did I hang out with my bros when I was still Terrence... yes, but it really wasn't the same. I'm not sure how much more I can explain it, but the nature of community is very different as a woman than it was as a man. And now that I'm sort of at cruising altitude when it comes to my medical and social transition (I've accomplished most of the stuff I wanted to in those areas... there are still some goals in the future, but nothing major that's going to happen in the next year or two), I'm beginning to think about the other elements of my transition, and the unfortunate ordeal from last fall has really made me realize that my next big priority is finding sisterhood... 

Thankfully, I've been very successful so far. 

My gal pal Natalie and I enjoying a fun visit 

But I've also had challenges. A quote that I picked up from Dylan Mulvaney's new book that's been helping me is "The more you try to force something, the less likely it will happen." In December and January, I aggressively pursued friendship with a few different people, and it wasn't always welcomed. In fact, one person was so annoyed that they left me a scathing message... they were right, but, ouch! A second person voiced feeling uncomfortable with how strong I was coming on after I reached out to ask... I felt terrible... I still do. But it was helpful feedback, and gives more credence to the idea that this is a transition for me... there's going to be trial and error. If one of the two people I pushed away with my overly enthusiastic reads this, I hope you know that I'm really sorry I did that... not an excuse, but I overcorrected from another extreme, and I promise I never meant any harm or any creepiness. 

All that being said, I feel like where I'm headed now is both making up for lost time by getting as involved in more events such as Paint the Town and Keystone, while building closer one-on-one friendships with people like Natalie. I'm really excited to make more fun memories with everyone I'm privileged to meet, have more deep conversations and sisterhood with gal pals. While I regret the people whose feathers I've ruffled in all of this, I'm really glad it all happened... I've grown so much, found so much community, and have gotten to know myself and my needs better too. I see myself becoming a better person because of all of this... a better friend... a better contributor...

...a better Trans woman!

Hugs!

-Alicia

When you feel like you "don't have it"

A typical morning selfie, like the ones I post everyday on my social media.

To be honest, I'm not writing this to bestow some kind of pearl of wisdom about how to pick yourself up by your bootstraps when you don't feel like it... I've never been good at that, and in fact I find the whole idea to be toxic (yes, sometimes we just need a good slap to get ourselves going, but more times than not, we're stuck and when someone tells us to just keep pulling yourself up, it can do more harm than good). But I feel like, for some reason, the past month has been a season where I've lost my mojo. 

I'll write about this in some other blog post, but last month, my wife and I went to the United Kingdom for the first time... it was a pleasant trip, and we got to do lots of cool stuff. But since returning, I've felt really really sluggish. First, I thought it was just jet lag, but it's been almost three weeks since we've been back, and I barely got out of bed yesterday. Last weekend (Labor Day weekend), I stayed home 3 of the 4 days, and spent most of that time in bed. Anything that requires getting up before 9am is a draaaaaaaggggggg for me right now (thankfully my schedule is all afternoon stuff this term), and even after just a few hours up, I'm ready to go to bed. I'd love to talk about it with my doctor, but she just very quickly goes to blaming it on my weight (I've been big my whole life... yes, I'm getting older, but this level of exhaustion doesn't feel right). 

 But this past weekend, it feels like that exhaustion is being amplified by some negative thinking too. Yesterday, as I was getting myself up, I was thinking the whole time "Am I really Alicia?" "I still see Terrence a lot in myself... and I feel like him a lot," and this morning, when I took the selfie above, I honestly felt dysphoric about what I was seeing. I felt like I was seeing HIM much more than her. 

I know many who would encourage me, tell me that they don't remember a time when I wasn't Alicia, or point out all of the progress I've made in my transition, and their words are 100% correct and valid. But it's very easy to let the constant public debate about the validity of transgender individuals sink in, and it's very easy to give in to the thought that "I have never been, nor can I ever be a woman." 

I really don't want to talk about all of that controversy, mostly because I don't want to get into the nuances of the debate... It becomes too easy to get swallowed up in the exceptions to the rules, and use those exceptions to invalidate the vast majority of experiences (for example, the regret rate for transitioning is less than 1%... but for those who want a narrative to reduce access to gender affirming care, they will find and parade those 1%'ers as an argument that, because they regretted transitioning that none of us should be allowed to transition), but I will assert that Transgender Women ARE Women, Transgender Men ARE Men, and while it's absolutely true that a transgender person may not have the same experiences or background as a cisgender person, it doesn't make their existence any less valid. 

Okay, now with that aside, I have to admit that I haven't been feeling much like a woman lately. I've felt like a lazy slob who just feels... well... stuck. I feel like things that I normally take joy in (like doing my makeup or even picking out an outfit) are just going through the motions lately. I think some of that is to be expected (I mean, I'm half way through my third year of living full time as Alicia... it can't always be as thrilling as it was the first time I got prettied up!), but this just feels... well... different. I'm not sure what it is or why it's happening, but if I could be honest, it also is giving me some level of thankfulness. 

Last week, I had a brief moment where I think that "OMG OMG OMG" Alicia joy came out and I was reminded that she is still there... I was returning a pair of boots I bought from Torrid (the calves were, ironically for someone of my size, too large, and so I wanted to exchange them for smaller calf boots), and as I was walking in I saw this wonderfully dressed mannequin. 

Anyone who follows my Facebook account (yep, showing my age) knows that, recently, I was "complaining" (think "first world problem" complaining) about having too many clothes. The plan is to purge some of my older clothes that either no longer fit or don't match my "style" anymore. But part of the plan has also included intending to "slow down" my spending on new clothes (seriously... five years ago, I was spending a ton building up a beer cellar... now IDGAF about that and I just want to build a bigger wardrobe), but for some reason, this outfit screamed "ALICIA", and I had to try it on: 

Other than feeling a little "eek" about my double-chin (still need to lose weight), this outfit triggered massive amounts of gender euphoria. Whats interesting is that the top is technically a bralette that, with a full coverage bra underneath, works as a perfect blouse. The skirt and belt screamed "FALL" and the whole outfit just made me gush. 

Yeah, I bought it... yeah, I feel some shame... but when the larger bralette and matching under-bra arrive and the weather finally begins to feel like fall, I'm going to throw this on with a pair of brown boots, grab a pumpkin spice latte, and walk around a block with lots of changing trees! You better believe I'll be getting my basic white girl on in this outfit! 

There was one other thing that, honestly, has been positive about this little "funk" I'm in... while I mentioned not feeling like a woman, I also really don't see/feel like a man anymore either. I mentioned seeing "HIM" in the mirror earlier in this post, but it didn't feel like seeing a man... but seeing old semblances of "Terrence." Let me be honest for a second... I never felt like a man as Terrence... I didn't see a woman in the mirror, but I certainly didn't see (or really felt) like a man... I don't know how to describe that without getting into a lot of gendered stereotypes, but I've always been more, well, androgynous... I don't think I'd say nonbinary either... I'm not sure what I'd say, but I was trying to live an act like a man because, well, that's what was expected of me. As soon as I was given permission to step outside of that expectation, it wasn't long before I realized that I wanted to transition, and not long after that I realized there was no "want" about it... that transitioning was what needed to happen. What's crazy is that I'm a little over a month away from the 4-year mark of that day my egg fully broke... and next month, I'll be marking 2 years on HRT, and 1 year specifically on progesterone. 

So what the hell am I getting at? Well, as mentioned earlier, I really don't know. What I do know is that I love who I am, even when I'm not feeling much like a woman, I'm not feeling like a man either, and it doesn't take much to remind me of who I am, and why. 

The other thing I'll say here is, to be honest, I know I'll pull out of this funk. This isn't the kind of thing where people need to do wellness checks on me, nor is it a feeling of defeat or doom. I've tried working on a series on the deepest depression I've gone through (I kind of stopped when I realized that so much of what I was saying was bashing a few of the churches I used to be a part of, and while I think the humanity of ministry certainly played a role, I'm too thankful for the time I had in ministry to bash all of it either... I don't think that would be a 100% fair portrayal of things, so I've been sorting that out), but two of the biggest components were a MASSIVE sugar rush followed by some pretty significant circumstantial bumps that caused my morale to plunge... there are some elements of that here (namely coming off of the sugar rush that getting to finally live as Alicia has made for me), but this feels significantly less "doom spiral," and honestly, just a moment where I'm taking an emotional breather. I would say that, besides the terror I feel about the upcoming election, things are going pretty well! I have a lot of stuff to look forward to, and I'm pretty excited about my future. I've also had some pretty awesome things happen over the last few months too. 

So I guess what I'm saying is that I'll pull through... and these kind of funks are meant to be "pull-throughable" 

Hugs!

-Alicia

Can a person transition without even knowing it?

Before I begin, I'd like to dedicate this blog entry to my friend and Comedian Gina Brillon, because it was something she said tonight during her performance at the San Jose Improve, along with a comment she made on a post I made several years ago that inspired this post. Also, she's an amazing comic, friend, and ally, and I think everyone who loves a good laugh should check her out! 

It was a cold late October evening/early November morning (depending on how you look at it... Halloween night... it was Halloween night!) in 2020 (yes... THAT 2020... you know... the one with COVID and all), and I'd been up in the living room watching some TV, and admittedly, drinking beer (like in the "drink to feel it" kind of way). Earlier in the night, my wife and I had gone to a Halloween party at a taproom all the way down in Hollister (so I didn't drink a whole lot there because I had to drive and don't want to ruin my life with a DUI). I was dressed as a horribly attempted Audrey Hepburn (in my defense, I'd cut my lip earlier while shaving... still, holy crap I looked awful!) while my wife was dressed as a 50's Housewife (in the most stereotypical way)... here's a picture:

Twas the night my egg broke...

 

So after we had come home, Jamie had gone to lay down, but I decided to stay up, watch some TV, and drink a crowler (a 32ounce can) of a 14%+ stout from Modern Times. Once I was done, I admitted defeat, and went to take off my wig, pull out my breastforms, take off my makeup, and slip into bed with Jamie... she could tell something was wrong and asked me "couldn't sleep?" And I told her "yeah... I couldn't take my costume off... and I don't mean not being able to unzip the dress." She knew exactly where I was going with it and she said "I kind of guessed..." and I just blurted out "I'm so sorry... I need to transition!!!! I don't think I can stay Terrence anymore... I'm so sorry!" And she put her arm around me and very calmly and comfortingly said "I know... I've been seeing this coming for a while... and I love you, and have no plans on going anywhere... but I think it's time to make this happen." We stayed up talking about it for a little while (what exactly we talked about was fuzzy, you know, having 32 ounces of a 14% beer coursing through my veins and all, but I do remember a big part of it was coming up with a plan for how to handle the inevitable of losing people we cared about). Before we wrapped up, she asked me "are you tipsy?" and I admitted it, and she said "I really do hope you remember this in the morning though... I know it took a lot for you to finally say it." 

And that was it... my egg was broken! For those who don't know, the term "breaking your egg" is a common term in transgender circles... it basically means what you'd think it means... to come out of your shell... to finally push aside what was holding you back. At this moment, it was finally solidified... I wasn't a man named Terrence... nor was I bigender (I'll write about that a little more below)... I was a transgender woman (and Trans Women ARE Women!!!) named Alicia! This wasn't some kind of thing that I could hold back anymore, nor did I want to. I was tired, but I was also eager. 

I usually point to this day as the day that I began transitioning... 

But was it? Was it REALLY? Was everything that lead up to that moment just some kind of warmup act? Just a prelude? 

I think I'm framing these more like questions, but I honestly know what the answer is... No! So let me explain why...

This was absolutely the day that I finally admitted to myself (and to Jamie) that there wasn't some kind of middle ground I had been hoping for. This was absolutely the day that I acknowledged that, for my sake, transitioning into Alicia full time was what needed to happen. But to say that it was the first day that I'd actually begun transitioning would be incorrect... the truth is, that I'd already begun transitioning, but I didn't even realize it. 

So, I've said before that everybody's transition is different, so I can only speak for mine, but I also know that if someone claims that "All Horses are Brown," all you have to do to disprove them is to show them a black (or green... or pink... or any color than brown) horse, so I submit my story as evidence that a person's transition can begin long before they admit that they are transitioning... that faithful night was the night I finally admitted it, but look at what I was doing literally the night before... 

I took Jamie out to dinner... like this!

Oh, and the weekend before, I had just experienced my first full day out en femme... I went shopping, out to lunch, and out for drinks by myself en femme...

Me after a full day as Alicia... I was in pure bliss!

 

Oh, but that wasn't the first time I'd gone out... This was! 

Jamie and I had decided to go for a drive... that lead to us getting dinner at a restaurant... during COVID Outdoor Dining... with me like this!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, so maybe it was COVID (I know people who try to use moments of crisis like COVID to rationalize the sudden increase in Transgender people)... but how does that explain this???

This was from February of 2020, during a Social Club Gathering... the only times I ever left the house as Alicia under any circumstance... and many times involved changing at the social club.

 

Or this... 

Same Social Club... but in January of 2020

Okay, so I get the point... certainly the first time you saw yourself truly done up was when you began transitioning... That'd be this: 

This is what I'd call the Day I "met" Alicia...

While I call the image above from the day I "met" Alicia, the truth is that before I finally saw "her" in the mirror, I'd made some completely un-trained attempts... like this

This was the very first time I'd done a full attempt at a female look... it was February of 2019. Though to admit, I'd been crossdressing off and on for at least 15 years before this. 

Okay, so what the hell am I trying to say... the truth is, I don't know what I would actually consider the beginning of my transition... but what does it actually mean to transition in the first place??? 

Welp, if we were to go from the Oxford Dictionary's first definition, it would be "

the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another." So by that definition, I'd define the beginning of my transition as the moment that I stopped being Terrence 100% of the time. What's interesting is that the very next definition from Oxford is specific to transgender folx: "

the process by which a transgender person permanently adopts the outward or physical characteristics that match their gender identity, as opposed to those associated with the sex registered for them at birth. The process may or may not involve measures such as hormone therapy and gender reassignment surgery." 

I actually think both definitions are useful to me in trying to unpack the beginning of my transition... I'm not sure I would say that the very first time I tried on a dress (that would be sometime in 2001) as the beginning of my transition... nor would I say that the times I began experimenting with crossdressing from 2001-2018 to be beginnings of my transition. The first time I ever used the "transgender" label to describe myself was in early 2019 (I actually felt comfortable with using it, even though I didn't intend on fully transitioning to Alicia at the time), but I would say that sometime in that chaotic period in 2019 would be an exact pinpoint if I had to come up with one. 

You see, at that point, something had fundamentally changed with me... I was no longer "just" Terrence anymore. If nothing else, I'd finally acknowledged that Alicia was, at the very least, a part of who I was, and deserved to come up for air. I was at a point where, for some reason, there was an itch that life as Terrence wasn't able to scratch... and wasn't meant to scratch. For a while, I was following a path that many transwomen had taken, including some of my biggest role models. I was making space for Alicia. Making it a priority. But, to be frank, I was also in a very "I want to have my cake and eat it too" place... To be honest, I wanted to be Alicia... full time! I wanted to hear her heels click as I walked into a classroom... I wanted to begin wearing cute boots and coats during Fall... I wanted to look, feel, and smell like a woman. Not just for the looks either, but I also wanted to be "one of the girls." I wanted to go to afternoon tea, wine weekend, get a mani-pedi, go shopping, take in shows, and talk about stuff (except boys... ewww!!) with other ladies. To be honest, I drew closer to women than to men... I always have. I have always felt more in my element in a room with ladies than one with guys. But I also didn't want to give up the things that were so good about being Terrence... I had good friends, an amazing wife, a great job, went to a great church, and got to do lots of awesome things! I didn't want to risk any of that. And the truth is that I'd seen other people do it... and do it well! My favorite example of this was a role model turned friend of mine, Hannah. Hannah has an amazing, fulfilling life as her male self, but she also has am incredible life as Hannah... read her blog at https://hannahmcknight.org/ to read more about it. For the longest time, I thought of Hannah as who I wanted to be... holy crap, I don't know how she does it, but she's found that perfect balance between her life as a man and as a woman... I marvel at that, and I tried so hard to strive for that. I followed many bloggers, influencers, and others who worked to straddle that line between maintaining a life as their assigned gender while still making space for their "alter ego" I'll say. If I could be frank, I considered giving in to transitioning as failing at this point. What's funny is that, by this point, I was transitioning and didn't even know it. 

Why do I say that? Welp, practically all of the pictures from above were in that era... I could post just as many pictures of my male self taking Jamie out on dates, going to work, traveling, and living a pretty meaningful life as Terrence during this time. But as I was doing those things, the thing that hit me was that, more and more, I felt like I wasn't doing them as my true self. I felt like I was just phoning them in. This was back at a time where I could get up 15 minutes before I needed to leave the house, and still leave sharp/put together/ready to take on the world. But every time, I wish that I was meticulously laying out a cute outfit for the next morning... I wish that I was getting my makeup all together... I was wishing that people would say "hi Alicia!" or "hi Miss Mullens" when addressing me. I also wanted to share Alicia with people... people I knew... it was during this time I actually started doing what I'd call coming out to people... the very first person I came out to was my school's professional development Faculty member Dawn Lee back in 2019... a few weeks later, a comic that I'd started following/sort of befriended had posted something vehemently in support of the LGBTQ+ community, and for whatever reason, I decided to respond to it with a private message telling her that, as a closeted trans person, it meant a lot to me... for whatever reason, that triggered a huge back and forth with her that was glorious!

A few weeks later, I felt urged to come out to a friend I'd met a few months earlier, and while I was having a beer with her and another mutual friend of ours, I came out to both of them... instantly, they were both my "our sister!!!" 

Over the next few months, I began coming out to people... while I can't pinpoint exactly when my transition began, at this point, it was going full throttle... and I didn't even realize it... I mean, why come out to people in the first place? You come out to people because you want/need to share who you really are with them... because you want them to begin seeing you as a new person... your true person. 

And that brings me to this... in Mid-2020, I was having a conversation with my mom about something I was feeling ashamed about, and she was imploring upon me that she'd love me NO MATTER WHAT... I damn near decided to put that to the test and come out to her at that very moment... only to chicken out. I decided to make a post on my Alicia Instagram (at the time, my only social media as Alicia) pleading to "Please talk me out of coming out to my Mom!" Welp, my comic friend Gina... the one I dedicated this blog post to, wrote this...

I mean... holy crap! I almost starting bawling when I saw that. She was the very first person (besides Jamie) to explicitly say that she'd be there for me when I did. Tonight, while I was at her show, she talked about being an ally to the LGBTQ+ community, and if it had not been in the middle of a comedy show, I would have stood up and said "and I'm living proof of her allyship!" I did make it a point to tell her during the meet-and-greet how much that meant to me though.

Jamie and I with Gina Brillon... a phenomenal comedian... and friend!

Okay, so why did I just take two hours of my Friday night to write this... welp, we are in late July of 2024, and one of my top goals for the year was to start determining a "finish line" for my transition. But if I'm being honest, realizing how "blurry" the starting point for my transition was is making me think if having some kind of hard "finish point" is sorta missing the point of my transition... the truth is that, at least for me, this whole processes has been very much building the plane as I'm flying it. Yes, there have been some amazing milestones, but also some things kind of just happened organically. Many things didn't go according to plan, and others happened so suddenly (my original plan was to transition at work in Fall of 2022...thanks to an email with the administrative person in the department at my part time job, and a sudden conversation with my interim dean at my full time job, I began working as Alicia a full nine months earlier than planned). The truth is, I don't think there's going to be some point where I definitively say I've completed my transition... by many metrics, I've already completed it (I mean, I AM Alicia full time now... both figuratively and LEGALLY!!!!), but by others, I'm not even close (I'm still several years away from getting the full benefits of HRT, I need to discuss and consider what kind of surgeries, if any I plan to have... other than being pretty sure I don't want a vaginoplasty or facial feminization surgery, everything else is still very much on the table, though I'd need to lose an elephant's worth of weight to get any of them, and what other transition milestones I still need to meet). What I think I need to accept in this next phase is that my transition is going to end when it ends... and while I have the control over so many aspects of it, there are things I have no control over, and at the end of the day, the best thing for me to do is to point my sails where they need to be, but trust that the wind is going to carry me there, as it has so far. 

I guess what I'm saying is that, chances are I'll probably acknowledge the end of my transition LONG after it actually ends... just like I acknowledged the beginning of my transition long after it actually begun. And that's okay... that's actually great! 

One other brief acknowledgement (because I could probably write a while novel on this) I'll make before I wrap this up is that I have seen, without a doubt, the role that God has played in this! I don't share my faith as explicitly as I used to (not because I'm afraid to, but because I understand the harm that religion has done and because of the ridiculous amount of bullcrap that has been peddled "in God's name" lately... *cough, cough* Project 2025), but I will say that the steps I've taken have clearly been set before me by God! Whether it's been a friend, a mentor, an ally, a colleague, or even an enemy, God has put the exact right person in front of me at the exact right time. There have been times where my plans called for a gradual change, only for God to say "nope... I'm going to put this person in place to help you start life as Alicia now!" Whether it was a wife who has been outstanding with all of this, or a friend from my old church who I accidentally left off the "share with friends except" list when I posted my "Yellow Tier" coming out post who has actually become one of my biggest allies, or a comic, turned friend, turned the exact voice I needed at the moment I needed it, or an administrative professional who said "may I start putting you down as Alicia on our department poster?" and a friend of mine that served as my dean at my full time job for just 12 weeks... but the 12 weeks I just so happened to be going through that process at my part time job... or the people who stumbled onto my "Alicia" stuff before I intended anyone to, only to meet me with words of encouragement. OR the person who felt convicted to tell me to "remember what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah... they were doing the exact same thing" at a moment that I had actually sent out a number of messages to knowingly unsupportive people in the hopes of at least reconciling (thus prompting me to unsend those messages and completely walk away from those relationships rather than open Jamie and I up to that trauma). I've seen God's hand in all of this... both in helping me take the steps I needed to take, but also helping me avoid the steps that would have led me in harms way. I will say that I vehemently see this as God going before me, and I vehemently believe that God has been with Jamie and I during my transition. My heart breaks when I see so much evil being done/said in God's name, and I'm downright infuriated by how many people have been driven to reject God because of the words of people who thought they were being "righteous." I can get myself into a lot of trouble with the things I want to say about all of that, but I will say that I KNOW that God is for us... and that God has absolutely been a part of my transition journey. And I praise God for that! And while I don't believe in shoving God down people's throats, I do genuinely believe that God has a place of compassion for those who have been harmed by the words and actions of people who have claimed their harmful actions to be "in God's name," and so other than sharing how I believe God has blessed my journey, I don't think it helps to try to preach at my friends who have been hurt by people claiming to be from God. That may/may not go over well with many who read this, but I do owe it to an amazing God who has been sooooooooooooooooo good to me to share that God is for you! 

My heart is full! 

Hugs!

-Alicia

The 200 Pound Backpack on my Shoulders

 First, huge shoutout to my gal pal Mikaela Taylor who coined that term, and then my aunt who used it to describe me. I’m so thankful for both of you! 💗

This one’s short… do you know what it feels like to have a giant weight lifted off of your shoulders? I was watching the coming out video I recorded for my students a few years ago (after it became obvious my time teaching as Terrence was over), and I noticed something…

Before I blurted out “I’m transgender… I’m a transgender woman…” my voice was so low and heavy… you could tell what I was about to say, and what I did say, was heavy. 

And then… the SECOND I said it, my voice INSTANTLY picked up! Here… watch for yourself: 

It’s interesting what we find in hindsight. It does break my heart that about 2/3 of the views came from fucking KiwiFarms and their army of haters. Still, I’m really proud of this, and proud of my now 2.5 year journey into living full time as my true self! 

Hugs!

Alicia 

The Great Depression of 2015, Prologue: The Sugar Rush

 

I mean, he was one of the fathers of Calculus... he has to be correct, right!?!?

This blog post is the first in a series of posts I'm going to make about what was probably the most formative 3-year period in my life, what I call "The Great Depression of 2015." I'm mostly writing this blog as a way to reflect on the period from roughly 2014-2016 where so many things happened to completely rewire who I am, leading to so much of who I am today. While I call it "The Great Depression of 2015," that's primarily the apex of this season... there was a period of boom and bust in 2014, followed by a long, but joyful recovery in 2016, and the entire story can't be told by just focusing on the low point in 2015. While I'm writing this mostly for myself, it would be such a joy to find out that somebody got something useful out of this series... if you happen to be someone who did, feel free to let me know, and I'd love to share your experience. 

I'm not going back any further than 2012, so there may be some context missing in this first post, but I'll try to make it make sense as best as I can.

It was a warm late January afternoon in 2012. I had just come from a conference in New Orleans a couple of days beforehand, and I intentionally missed my connecting flight home (Southwest was cool with it at the time, so I just went with it), instead staying in Southern California. The past two days I'd holed up at a friend's house, intentionally being very careful with where I went so as to not run into somebody specific... my girlfriend Jamie. You see, I was hiding from her, so much so that I'd intentionally booked a flight home so she'd see that I couldn't be available during this time. Yeah, I lied... but I don't think she'd mind once she found out WHY I was hiding. You see, that late January afternoon was actually our 8th year anniversary, and I was going to surprise her. I'd lied to her only because she was insistent on coming up to see me that weekend, but I needed her to stay down in So Cal so I could surprise her, and so she could have many of her friends and sorority sisters around her to celebrate... you see, I wasn't just down to surprise her and take her to dinner... no, in my coat pocket, I had an engagement ring ready to pull out that night after dinner when we took a walk to the same lighthouse we went to on our first date. I'd gone to the lighthouse a few hours early to walk around and figure out where to pop the question, as well as where to station the person who would be recording the moment. I also got there early to make sure I got us a table at the restaurant I was taking her to (they didn't do reservations, and easily had an hour wait on Saturday nights). A few hours went by, and it was go time! Her best friend/sorority big sister brought her to the restaurant on the pretense that they'd be enjoying dinner together, only for me to walk out and surprise her... I'd say the big sugar rush I'm writing about here began the moment she saw me and started jumping up and down and clapping with joy! She was thrilled, and it was magical. We chatted for over an hour over our food, and then I took her on a walk over to the same lighthouse we had gone to on our first date. We got up there, made some small talk, and then I got a message from her sorority sister that everybody was in place, and her finance was behind us ready to start recording. At that moment, I knew there was no going back, so I began changing the subject... I told Jamie that I'd been weighing a major decision over the past few months, and after much prayer and talking about it with others, I'd actually brought Jamie up here to break the news to her, and that we could talk about it for as long as necessary afterwards (I mean come on, being the drama queen I am, this was totally how it had to go!). I then said "I don't know what's going to happen to me in the next few years... but I do know that whatever it is, I want you to be there with me for it. The song says 'Love is wherever I'm with you...' I want to come home." I then dropped down to one knee and asked her to marry me. Her reaction was special... she let out a huge yelp, started crying, and then said "REALLY!?!?" I confirmed that yes it was, and she very quickly exclaimed "Yes! Of Course! Do you know how long I've wanted this for!?!?" We then had a big hug with lots of tears and happiness! Seconds later, I told Jamie that someone was behind us taking pictures, and we turned and waived hello. Her friend made her way up the hill to congratulate us, and the four of us piled into a small car and drove to a nearby apartment where an engagement party was waiting to greet us. 

The greatest night of my life up to that point. And no, I don't mind that it happened as Terrence, but I'd love to re-live it as Alicia!

That night was so special for a number of reasons obviously but one big one was that it was a turning point. See, 2010 and 2011 hadn't been the best of years, and while things were looking up by the end of 2011, I wouldn't personally mark the end of that funk until this magical night. I'd been such an awful person in so many ways in the months beforehand (including attempting to come out in April of 2011, which was a total disaster!), yet to see the way Jamie reacted to me proposing, and to see the general jubilation that everyone had for us, it was clear that the tide had turned. Normally, engagement season isn't too thrilling for the groom, but as we all know now, I was pretty much just another bride at the point... only I couldn't wear a wedding gown. By the way, Jamie knew ALL about Alicia LONG before this night... in fact, she'd known before we'd even started dating. I've never hid it from her, and I'm blessed that she's stayed with me the whole time... in fact, when I came out, she was there for me to help wipe up the tears. But anyway, I was thrilled to have a say in the wedding, helping pick out cake, colors, invites, etc. Of course, being the bride, Jamie got to have top pick of everything, but it never felt like I was just an accessory to the whole thing (which is honestly a ridiculous way of starting out a marriage, and I'd argue one of the many reasons that the divorce rate is so high...). So the fun began! 

At the same time, I also figured out my Thesis topic (I was a grad student at the time), watched as the research all came together, and began seeing the finish line for my master's degree. I can't say it was all good though... I acted out quite poorly during my 27th birthday season, and drove my roommate to abruptly move out (I can't take all of the blame for that, but I certainly didn't help the situation). But again, the trend was in the right direction. 

That summer, I had an internship in Colorado that my thesis advisor had aggressively pushed onto me (though I'm glad she did)... what I feared would be twelve weeks of 80 hour work weeks and sleeping under my desk was actually a very rewarding internship, accompanied by weekends of hiking, drinking craft beer (I became a beer nerd during that summer), and enjoying Colorado weather. Honestly, it was an amazing summer, and by the time I'd left, I'd finished practically all my Thesis research and Literature review, took a train back to California (by choice!), and had my first teaching gig waiting for me back at home. Teaching went very well, my writing came along great, and I also finished my coursework with a BANG (I was taking, by far, the most difficult class in the entire program, and doing very well at it). By the time the world was supposed to end (this was 2012 afterall), I was riding high, the sadness of 2010 and 2011 left in the dust, and so much excitement for 2013 up ahead. 

This would sound like a good time for a shoe to drop... but nah! 2013 started in a great place... I had a conference in Austin, Texas (not far from where my family lives), and then a miniature train trip (I'd gotten into train travel by this point) from Austin to LA by way of Chicago (it was such a treat!). I'd say I got my first taste in wedding stress the following week, but it was mostly productive and positive. By the end of the week, we'd confirmed our wedding date: August 24, 2013... exactly ten years to the day we met! 

Once I made it back to school, I was surprised to find out that another class had been offered to me, and I was able to smoothly finish up. My thesis defense was three days after my 28th birthday, and I honestly didn't feel stressed going into it. By this point, I knew exactly what I needed to do, so I just did it. My feedback and revisions from my Thesis committee were relatively minor (like, could be done in an afternoon minor), so within a week, my thesis was out for signatures... I'd feared that my advisor would hold out on signing like she did with one of my colleagues, but I'd put some pressure on her with a hard move-out deadline, and a week before that deadline, she signed, and I was officially done (minus the tiny proofreading/formatting stuff that I paid someone to do... best $150 investment I could have made). I then packed all my stuff up, turned in my keys, gave everyone goodbye hugs, and jumped on a bus home to Southern California. I can remember the weekend I came home, Jamie and I were at her best friend's wedding, and as we were slow dancing, I remember looking at her eyes and saying "I'm back! For good!"

Funny enough, that wasn't true... I'd saved up a little money to do something selfish for myself one last time before getting married. I'd purchased a two-week rail pass on Amtrak, and essentially lapped the country (LA to Portland to Seattle to Chicago to Boston to NYC to DC to New Orleans to Chicago and down to San Antonio to see my family before heading back to SoCal) to both celebrate my Masters' degree, and to enjoy one last adventure as a bachelor(ette). I slept on trains, in Motel 6s, had very little rest, and a lot of junk food, but it was the most amazing way to celebrate, and something I'd love to do again (this time with my wife and better sleeping arrangements). Then I came home and began the final wedding push (and also had a pre-career conference and two root canals... one just three days before the wedding!!!), but on August 24th, 2013, we said I Do, and began our lives together! 

The day we became one. Even though I wasn't Alicia, this was and still is the happiest day of my life!

The day, and the honeymoon, were like a dream come true! We took an Alaskan cruise, spent a night in Seattle and a few nights in Portland, took a sleeper car on the train ride up (yeah, we were really into trains... mostly me, but Jamie really enjoyed it too!), and had a fun, care-free time. By the time we got home, we were on a high. Our first night home was really rough, honestly. Not because we were having a fight, but because we were both kind of down. At the time, I'd called it spiritual attack, and it probably was. 

Over the next two months, I'd say I went into a little funk... some peaks have a tiny dip in them, and this was one of those. With graduating, traveling, and the wedding behind me (and us), now came the reality that, honestly, I didn't know what comes next. My degree wasn't officially conferred until mid-October, so I couldn't start working yet (I probably could have, but Jamie, I, and our surrounding support system felt the time would be best spent adjusting to married life together since we kind of had the luxury of being able to do that, so we waited until I was officially awarded my degree before I started looking for adjunct teaching positions, and even then, we both had the understanding that I'd start out slow so I could get better at teaching. This was probably one of the biggest privileges I had in all of this, and also one of the reasons we married right after I was done with grad school... otherwise, we probably would have waited another year until I was more stable). But honestly, in that season, I felt worthless... I felt like a leech and a burden to Jamie. I'm honestly really thankful I felt that way... it drove me to push in and make getting a job my job for the time being. I'm thankful I was eager to get started, and thankfully, everything fell into place pretty quickly. I got a small tutoring gig and a little bit of unemployment money to tide me over (not that we needed it, but at least it felt like I was contributing SOMETHING to our household). In early November, just weeks after officially getting my degree, I was offered my first teaching gig teaching lab classes at Fullerton College. Now I felt like I just needed to get through the year and I'd start working. By the end of the year, I'd heard about another opportunity all the way in Rancho Cucamonga (like 50 miles away from where I lived! Oh, and I didn't drive at the time!), and for whatever reason, I felt called to pursue it... the classes I was offered couldn't work with my schedule, but then just days into 2014, I was suddenly offered two classes on days that would work perfectly for me, and at a time where it would be possible to commute out there by bus/train... like I said, I was hungry and eager, so teaching two classes 50 miles away consisting of a significant amount of material I'd never taught before was something I was willing to do. And I'm glad I did. 

So going into 2014, it felt like there was more promise on the way. But storm clouds were gathering...

I can't say the first couple of months of 2014 were bad... at worst, things were plateauing. We had a great first Valentines Day as a married couple, I was enjoying my new teaching gigs, and things were going well. But the first few bumps in the road ahead, while nowhere near what was to come, began to appear, and the sugar rush was starting to wear off...

The first domino came in early March of 2014... if what was to come could be likened to Lehman Brothers bankruptcy in 2008, this moment was more like BNP Parabas announcing in 2007 that some of it's holdings in Mortgage Backed Securities couldn't be accurately assessed for their value (basically, it was the very first sign that something was wrong)... I'd been pretty well settled into my teaching gigs, and was now getting ready for my first evaluation... while I was nervous, I was more eager to get feedback and see how I could improve. Instead, I was treated to a master class of how much I was doing wrong... I mean IT WAS BAD!!!! I bombed the evaluation... I can remember in mid-April getting my results in the mail, and reading them in our garage, almost bursting into tears because I felt like I wasn't cut out to be a teacher. I think the only thing that kept me from reconsidering my career was receiving a very good evaluation just a few days prior to getting that bad one in the mail. In hindsight, I definitely had made a lot of mistakes early in my teaching career, and my department chair was calling me out on them... BUT he also went out of his way after I received that evaluation to emphasize that he saw so much promise in me, and knew I could improve what I was doing... he's gone on to be an amazing mentor, friend, and ally! But at the moment, I was crushed. It felt like I had just come back down to Earth. 

Adding to that, less than a week after I bombed that evaluation, the church Jamie and I had been going to for almost 11 years announced that they were killing off the Young Adult ministry due to lack of leadership... while they'd promised "something for you in the Fall" (it was MARCH when this happened!), it felt like a lie (and turned out to be one). We'd been teetering with this church for a few months (long story), but this was the final straw... I had promised myself that I'd wait at least a year after we got married to look for another church if it came to that, and here we were having to do that a full six months early. I was angry, frustrated, defeated, and doubtful. The next week, we visited a campus of a megachurch that the church I went to in San Jose was modeled after (not the megachurch part, but the rest of how they did things). We sort of felt at home immediately. After a couple of weeks, we decided to plant our roots in that church... what we didn't know at the time was that the church was having a significant issue with congregational turnover, staffing, and more-so an egomaniac lead pastor whom wrote books and had books written about him. In fact, the storm we'd walked into was so bad, there's a whole podcast series about it called "The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill." That time bomb was still ticking when we arrived, and it didn't explode until a few months later... I'll share that in the next blog. At the same time, a time bomb at our old church was also ticking, and I genuinely believe that God called us out of that church when He did to protect us from that. But for the moment, leaving our old church gave us some stability. 

Going towards the end of Spring 2014, I was offered some summer classes at one of my college's satellite campuses, and things were wrapping up pretty well for Spring. Jamie and I were in a new church, while I'd bombed that one evaluation, I felt a lot better about the situation and had a decent improvement plan in place to address the concerns mentioned (and I did... the followup evaluation in Fall went very well!), I found a new radio show to listen to on the long rides to work (The Woody Show! YOU KNOW!), and Jamie and I got to do some Summer traveling with the extra money I was bringing in. So going into Summer of 2014, things were okay... we were thriving, I was digging into my career, making a little more money, and overall doing very well. 

Until Week 5 of that Summer class... I remember waking up on the Monday of Week 5 and feeling unusually tired. Thinking it was just a rough night's sleep, I pushed through my day, week, and the rest of Summer. But what I noticed was that it wasn't just one isolated morning... the next morning felt the same way... and the next... and the next... truth was, I was tiring mid-Summer. And I thought that getting through it and into my short Summer break would help... but it didn't 

The Sugar Rush was officially over... the Sugar Crash had begun... only this wasn't going to just be a sugar crash... considering I just came off of two and half years of high after high, this was going to be catastrophic... 

"Episode 1: The Sugar Crash" will come out when I feel like writing it... maybe sometime soon. Maybe not. But things you have to look forward to include the implosion of Mars Hill Church, a shocking event at my old church that kicked off a nasty split, the onset of brain fog on my part, a few work mistakes, my return to therapy, and blowing my first interview for a full-time position. Again, this series is being written as a way of processing this period of my life, which began some significant paradigm shifts in my life and I'd argue was a huge part of leading to who I am today. I don't think anyone is as interested in reading about three years of my history as I am about writing it, but if you feel that this story helps you in any way, I'd love to know. Feel free to contact me! 

Hugs,

-Alicia  

 
 
  

The Joy of Sadness

Joy and Sadness from the Disney/Pixar movie "Inside Out"

 

My wife and I just got back from seeing Inside Out 2 (sequel to the popular 2015 Disney/Pixar movie Inside Out), and I have to admit that it was... well... fantastic! I was anticipating there being a huge part of the movie being devoted to Riley's navigation of crushes and all of the, um, adult stuff that comes with puberty. Instead, I, along with the many people who have seen the movie so far, were treated to an excellent and fun exploration of the ever-changing complexities of human emotion when someone enters the transition from a child to an adult. It feels like everything about who you are is challenged, rewired, reset, and amplified in your teen years. Being in my late 30's, my adolescence sometimes feels like an eternity ago, but it also feels very much like yesterday. To this day, there are core memories from my childhood that still drive who I am... now obviously there have also been many memories and experiences post-adolescence that inform my personality now too. I can go into an in-depth explanation of the complexities of human emotions, and how Inside Out 2 did a really good job exploring them in a way that parents and children alike could enjoy... but I'm neither a psychologist, nor a film critic. I also don't want to spoil the movie for anyone who goes to see it (there is one spoiler I'll mention at the bottom of this blog, but I'd hardly argue that it's essential to the plot and doesn't dampen the experience of watching the movie yourself... I'll preface it with a Spoiler Alert). But the one thing I will say is that the sequel did an excellent job of building on the plot and messages of the first one. It felt very much like the same story was being told, but in a deeper way that felt very much like what a good sequel needs to do.

One of the best things the movie did was build on the respect and value that Joy gained for Sadness in the first movie. Here, rather than dragging Sadness through a library of Riley's memories and treating Sadness as nothing but a burden until the very end, Joy shows trust for Sadness, and calls her to action in many instances in the movie. The first movie was a story about Joy realizing that, ultimately, she can't do everything for Riley alone, and in this movie, she applies that lesson time and time again; granted she has a whole new set of lessons to learn... and to teach others. 

That's pretty all I'm going to say about the second movie though. Because I really want to go back and revisit, what I considered, the core message from the first movie, at least what my deep-in-the-middle-of-a-deep-depression-self (the movie came out in Summer of 2015... right in the middle of my worst bout of depression up to this point in my life... and the only time I ever had a serious thought about ending my life) took from the movie, and treasures to this day. In the first movie, Joy was large and in-charge. Anger, Fear, Disgust, and Sadness were all treated as supporting characters to Joy's running of the show. Yet, as Riley got older and began confronting the realities that come with life (moving, being in unfamiliar territory, feeling like she had no place of belonging, and dealing with the consequences of her emotions), it became obvious that Joy simply didn't have the capacity, nor the skillset, to be everything Riley needed. Future situations would require not just the assistance of, but also the full blown leadership of the other four emotions. At the end, what we are left with is a Riley whose personality and passions were informed by complex memories... memories of anger, sadness, fear, disgust, and joy, and its the contributions of those individual emotions to the bigger picture that makes Riley a more well-rounded and mature person. For the first time in her life, she was capable of letting all of her emotions guide her, and she ultimately learned a lesson that is essential to thriving on Earth... "It's okay to NOT be okay!" (I think I've seen that on a bumper sticker, a meme, and on people's social media before). 

But let me delve specifically into the relationship between Joy and Sadness... both the emotions and the characters. We oftentimes see sadness as a bad thing; something that should be avoided or ignored. Feeling sad means that you are weak, or can't view a situation the right way, or just have a bad attitude. Instead, we are supposed to be joyful and always think positively; We are supposed to love every bit of our jobs, every bit of our families, every bit of where we live, who we know, and our situations, and to think otherwise means you're ungrateful, or a bad person. But honestly, it's oftentimes because we love those things and take joy in them that we encounter sadness (and anger/disgust/fear). 

Let me give an example... I absolutely LOVE my job! Every morning, I still pinch myself when I wake up, because I know I'm where I belong and I take great Joy in the things I get to do and the fruits of that work. Just earlier, I ran into a student at Target, and it made my night. That being said, whenever I see a student trying to take a shortcut around actually learning and applying what I teach, I feel sad (because while I do try to prevent such shortcuts, they are inevitable, and by taking them, the student is getting much less out of my course), I feel angry with how common those students are, disgusted with a system that puts grades over everything else (thus students place more importance on getting an A than actually understanding the material, and thus take those shortcuts to ensure getting an A for fear that simply trying to learn/apply the material the right way will "only" yield a B), and fearful that, if we allow this to continue, higher education will lose all of its remaining credibility (which means that many of us will lose our jobs). I could write a whole blog just about that. But these feelings aren't mutually exclusive. It's because I get so sad/angry/disgusted/fearful about apathetic students that I find so much joy in the students who are genuinely curious, show me that they learned something, or have a positive attitude about learning. And it's because I take so much joy in what I do (and in the educational process) that I get sad/angry/disgusted/fearful about the negatives. 

But let's do a thought experiment... what if EVERY student I ever encountered was one of the students I got joy in. Let's say that I never had a student cheat/act disrespectful/be too hard on themselves/do the myriad of things that cause sadness/anger/disgust/fear in me. What if everything was good in life... what if everything was coming up Joy in life... suddenly, that joy becomes cheap. It becomes run of the mill. It becomes no longer worth fighting for because it's not a fight to have it. Think of the greatest things to ever happen to you... now imagine if they were the everyday norm. Everyday, you're getting a promotion, making a new friend, achieving some kind of milestone. Every day is just incredible... over time, that "incredible" becomes just "normal," and Joy becomes just "Meh." Personally, I don't want to "meh" anytime a student comes up to me fascinated about the hail they saw over the weekend, or the beautiful lenticular cloud they saw over the nearby mountains. Frankly, dealing with the apathetic student makes the encounter with the fascinated student that much more joyful! And it's the joy I take in the fascinated student that makes a rough encounter with another student sad... and it's because I feel sadness that I try to help that student in any way I reasonably can. 

So I guess what I'm saying is that we need sadness so that joy can be so sweet! And we need joy so that our times of sadness have meaning to them. 

Okay, since this is a blog at least partially about being transgender, let's apply all of this to my gender journey...

WARNING: One minor spoiler alert below (but it doesn't ruin the movie... I promise!)

I don't want to talk about a bunch of new characters here (the main ones are Anxiety, Embarrassment, Envy, Ennui, and a very brief appearance of a kind old lady named Nostalgia) but I will talk about one that kind of struck me... "Riley's Deep, Dark Secret." Why though? Because the truth was that, until a few years ago, "Alicia" was my deepest, darkest secret, and I'd regularly refer to her as that. 

Riley's Deep, Dark Secret. What is it? You'll have to go see the movie (and stay until the end!)

I spent years in Small Groups (basically the preferred Christian terminology for "bible study") talking about a deep dark secret. I oftentimes refereed to having one deep, dark secret in conversations with people, and honestly felt (and still do) that, save for this one monster behind the vault, I was a pretty vanilla person. Well, in 2015, interestingly enough when the original Inside Out came out, Alicia was still very much behind that vault... however, as I was dealing with my aforementioned deep depression (which I'm going to start writing a blog on its own about), the locks on that vault were being slowly unlatched (I wonder what kind of crazy battle my emotions were having inside my head at the time, haha!). I was struggling with, and asking questions about a lot of things. I'd just seen two churches I was a part of implode almost simultaneously (one completing shutting down, and the other experiencing a nasty split that took years to recover from), and I was questioning a lot about how truly imperfect the systems we've put in place are (and I don't mean imperfect as in "nobody's perfect," but imperfect in a way that the very nature of sinful behavior, at least as it was taught to me, was being blended in almost like a mix-in for your ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery), and noticing things that I thought were pure were indeed infected with sin... sometimes beyond redemption. At the same time, I was extremely early in my career, honestly wondering if anything would come of it (I'd just bombed a job interview at a college I taught part time at and wondered if I was actually cut out for this line of work... truth was, it was because I wasn't ready, and something much better was waiting for me when I was ready!), feeling like an absolute burden to my wife (who, at the time, had to bankroll a decent portion of what we did), and still having my "deepest darkest secret" hanging over me. Adding to all of this complexity was something that I wasn't ready for and hit me like a freight train... I had a student transition genders in my class! She came the first four or five weeks presenting as male, and then one day began suddenly presenting as female. I was DEEPLY uncomfortable (not her fault!)... first, supporting transgender students was still such a new topic at the time that I had no experience, and therefore had no idea what to do... I kind of did nothing... but also because every time I saw this student in my class, she was like looking into a mirror... here was someone who had let her "deep, dark secret" out, and you could see the instant impact. I regret not cheering her on more, and I wonder how she'd feel if she found out that the professor of the class she transitioned during was herself transgender. All of this to say that, especially after coming off of an emotional sugar rush myself (again, I'll write a blog about that someday), there was a whirlwind of things that all collided perfectly in Summer of 2015 to create the perfect storm of sadness for me. But it was also incredible to see the role of joy in all of it. I was sad about feeling directionless in my career because I took so much joy in it... I was sad about being a burden to Jamie because her friendship, companionship, affection, and love bring so much joy to me, and I was terrified about dragging her down with me. I was sad about how things were doing in my faith because faith has been such a source of joy to me. I was sad about feeling stuck as Terrence because I knew (and was seeing firsthand from my student) that there would be so much joy as Alicia. 

My "deepest, darkest secret" out of the vault and with the robe off... I think she's beautiful!

Fast forward to 2024... 

I'm seven years into a full time job I love, and able to provide decently for Jamie. I take so much joy in those things. I'm now living my life out and proud as Alicia... my deep dark secret is now out and running around with joy (she is very beautiful once you get her out of the vault and take the robe off!). I'm seeing how my identity as Alicia has actually made me a better teacher and supporter to my students (just the fact that the number of queer and trans students taking my class has skyrocketed feels like a purpose has been met... I can't imagine the supportive environment a future trans student could find in my class... and I'd be there and ready to give it to them!). While I can't say that I've solved everything on the faith front (honestly, that nuclear apocalypse that happened in 2014 was a blow that my involvement in the Evangelical church never recovered from), I'm honestly in a much better place now than I was even two years ago. I've seen God's hand act so mightily in my life, and I've seen God carve a path for me during this journey. I have zero doubt that transitioning was a part of God's plan for me, and a few one liners in scripture thrown around recklessly can't convince me otherwise. 

But I also think Sadness has made me a more well-rounded person. I'm okay with being sad now. I know that being sad about something (whether a bad day at work, a new transphobic law passing, a falling out with a friend, a death in my family, or an argument with Jamie) isn't just okay, it's a part of being well rounded. Being sad when things are less than perfect is healthy... as is being angry, disgusted, or fearful. I feel those emotions regularly, and I can see how they intertwine with each other. I also can see how they contribute to threads of my sense of self (that will make sense if you see Inside Out 2). I see the roles that the other five new emotions play. I'm a more whole person because I have allowed these things to play a role in my life...

And I feel so much joy in my wholeness!

Hugs!

-Alicia  

Three Years and One Gender Later...

I've shared my story of coming out to so many, and even in previous blogs, so I won't bore you to death with the details, but I will share a little summary here. My coming out process occurred during the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, at a time where, in California, we had a set of tiers related to the risk level of catching/being hospitalized from COVID-19. These tiers had different levels of restrictions and precaution measures needed, and for about a year, they were a major part of everyday life. Well, in the process of coming out, I created my own tier list of people to come out to, based upon my projected level of support from them. The three tiers were: 

Green Tier - People who had, at one time or another, explicitly voiced support for the LGBTQ+ and Transgender community. - I started coming out to them in 2019 and all throughout 2020. These were mostly individual conversations because the number of people I needed to talk to was fairly low. 

Yellow Tier - People who have neither voiced support or opposition to the LGBTQ+ and Transgender community. This was probably the largest and most diverse group, consisting of colleagues, family (since the yellow tier was the largest, I decided to fully come out to my family prior to coming out to the yellow tier), friends, some old church friends who had indicated to some degree that they were at least empathetic to the LGBTQ+ community, and so on. I came out to my Yellow Tier on New Year's Eve, ringing in 2021. The vast majority, almost a totality (with a few exceptions) supported me.

Red Tier - Pretty much everyone else... old pastors of mine, church friends I expected to be largly unsupportive, people I knew were opposed to the LGBTQ+ community, and basically my full coming out. 

Well the day that I ended all hiding and fully came out to my Red Tier (and therefore everyone else) was early in the morning of June 12th, 2021... three years ago today! I'll confess that I had been up late, ready to burst, and had a *little* bit of liquid courage in me (by no means drunk, but definitely with my inhibitions down). I wrote a long, somewhat ranty facebook post (basically calling out all of the arguments that I thought I'd hear from people who would oppose it). Here's a screenshot of the post (Trigger warning: I do use the F-slur in this post as a quotation of how many people view LGBTQ+ people... but I also clarified that it was a quotation and that I, in no way, believe that): 

I actually tried coming out in 2011, with a significantly smaller support system at the time, and had a very rough response (I was blasted to Kingdom Come with "Tough Love"). When I sent out this post, I had a HUGE support system, and I also had a large number of Red Tier people already aware that I was trans. I ran it by Jamie before I posted it, and when I woke up the next morning, fearing some massive fallout, I was very blessed and surprised by the huge amount of love and support I had waiting for me. That night, Jamie and I went out for Fondue and then a drive to a lighthouse (lighthouses are a big symbol of our relationship because our first date was at a lighthouse, and I proposed to her eight years later at the same lighthouse). 

Let's just say that I was blown away by this, and really felt empowered to begin actually transitioning. Within a few weeks, I was starting laser hair removal, and within six months, I was clicking my heels into a classroom! 

Three years and one gender later, I'm now out, proud, transitioning, and living my best life as my true self! 

All that being said, there's a good image I once saw and want to implore to all of you: It is MUCH nicer outside of the closet, but if you do not feel safe being out, I'll guard the door for you! Don't come out if you don't feel ready, but when you are, know that there are a lot of people who will be here for you! I am so, so thankful for those who have been here for me!

Hugs!

-Alicia