Out of my sister’s closet

The journey of identifying as a gender different from the sex I was born with was – and is still – a big decision.

I was born in the Midwest: Cleveland, Ohio to be exact. I knew by the end of the 1950s I should have been born a girl. I always felt more comfortable hanging out with my older sister, doing stuff with her and her friends. It just felt normal to me. I also much preferred to play in her closet, in and among her clothes.

In these early days, my sister would make sleeping bags for my G.I Joes out of flowery fabric left over from her sewing projects; this all seemed OK by me.

Growing up through primary and high school I kept my desire to be a girl in the closet. There was no one to turn to for help to understand my feelings then. I thought I was doing something wrong; boys were supposed to be tough, not sensitive and gentle.

I received my best personality traits from my mother. Patience, sensitivity and a non-judgmental attitude are just a few of the traits she passed to me. She passed away before I could tell her of my choice to transition, but I know she would have been 100 percent supportive of my decision.

So what’s a boy/girl to do growing up in the ’50s and ’60s quite literally living each day in the wrong shoes? I tried to hide sometimes, (again, literally)  in my sister’s closet, but mostly by trying to do boy stuff: little league baseball, football, and the Boy Scouts (which actually acted as a positive experience in my young life). But, I also hung out with my sister’s all-girl softball team.

It turns out I was pretty good at stereotypical tough guy stuff. Things like being a training officer, I was part of a team responsible for training one of the Space Shuttle Special Recovery Teams and I was also a member of several specialty branches of the United States military, federal law-enforcement and as a firefighter-paramedic. This includes a number of Presidential, Vice-Presidential and Senatorial security details with the Secret Service.

I loved all of these experiences, but I continued to keep the real me back in the closet, dive locker or footlocker somewhere, out of fear. After my career in public safety and the military, I made – what I believe to be –  the most important discovery to date. Working with my long time therapist, we discovered a link between my low self-esteem, my poor performance in school and my fear of accepting the real me.

I was ashamed.

It was time for a change. During the past 10 years, transitioning has been the best decision I have made; I am no longer in the closet.

Combining my love of people, with telling stories through photography and writing, paid off in my past, so I decided to give it another go.
I started contributing an occasional article and photograph to Out Front Colorado on Northern Colorado LGBT events. This is what led to the column you’re reading now.

I have felt and continue to feel very fortunate to be able to contribute to our community.

Oh, and while I may not be hiding in my sister’s closet any more, I am proud to tell you all that my sister, brother-in law and 10-year-old niece are three of the greatest allies in my life today. I love them all.