Getting to Safe....

Update: I wrote this in October 2025, before I came out at work. I've since come out, and it went far better than I feared. I'm leaving this post up because the fear was real, and for anyone standing where I stood, I hope it helps.

Getting to Safe.

How do you get to safe? How do I get to safe? What does that even mean?

For me, getting to safe is about getting to a place where I know everything is fine and the future is secure economically, and more importantly, knowing that I can live my life freely without being a burden to others. It also means transitioning in a way where I feel comfortable and safe in my person. Getting to safe is not easy. There are many challenges: passing, funds, safety, health. And getting to safe is made tougher by my age, the end of a long relationship that set my retirement savings back significantly, and the fact that I started transition later in life.

Getting to safe is also made difficult by the manipulation of people through fear mongering: the hate groups and transphobic groups, such as those J.K. Rowling is a part of and/or associates with, secretly and publicly; the political groups (Trump and the extreme anti-constitutional people in his camp); religious zealots who use religion to drive agendas about what is allowed and what isn't; TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical feminists); the ignorant and fearful; and finally, irresponsible Hollywood and streaming content and broadcast studio monopolization (from 50 down to 5). I'll cover my last two points more deeply in my next blog, as it's just too much to cover here.

So... getting to safe is all about living my life financially responsibly, transitioning safely, finding a place to live that is safe (one that honors my human and constitutional rights), and affording the cost of transition, all without being a burden to others.

How do I afford the surgical procedures? The clothing? The makeup? The lifestyle of being a transgender woman?

The surgical procedures to make me whole, to feel right, will cost me $60–100k in total. I am hoping my insurance from work can help cover this, maybe reducing out-of-pocket costs by 40% or more. So it's important that I keep my job and do it well.

The challenge is that, like many transgender people, I'm not "out" at work yet, and coming out is scary. Every trans person I know has worried about the same thing: what if someone with power over your job reacts badly? Transphobia is real, and it exists in every kind of workplace. So I've been careful about timing, wanting to know I'd be okay no matter how it went. It's a practical safety precaution.

So getting to safe is knowing my employment is secure as a transgender woman.

And for my mental health, my peace of mind, I MUST come out at work at some point. To be whole, I have to be one.

So how do I live full time as a woman without impact to my job or my relationships with those I work with?

The honest answer is: there will be some impact. Change always brings some.

Some people may not understand at first. Some may be uncomfortable for a while. Yet the bottom line is, if coming out at work is done thoughtfully, in theory it should all work out and should not impact my employment status.

Here is my strategy, and I'm sharing it so others might use a similar pattern. First, know your rights and your company's nondiscrimination policies before you do anything. Keep simple notes along the way: dates, conversations, and next steps. It's ordinary self-protection, the same thing you'd do for any important change at work.

My coming-out-at-work plan is to start by talking to the LGBT group at work and get their advice and support. Then talk to HR and get their advice, support, and awareness. Then talk to my manager. Then talk to the people I work with day to day and share my story and what's happening. You don't need anyone's permission to be who you are. Just let them know what's changing. Finally, keep notes on all of it: days, who was there, what was discussed, and any follow-up actions.

The last step, telling my day-to-day team, is the one that makes me most nervous. Not because of anyone in particular, but because it's personal, and you can never fully predict how people will take news like this.

So I have some considerations.

First, how other people react is their part to own, not mine. I can share my truth with kindness and let them take whatever time they need.

Second, some working relationships might feel awkward for a while. That's normal, and usually it passes. If it doesn't, that's what managers and HR are there to help with.

Third, if anything were ever to go seriously wrong, it helps to know your rights, your company's policies, and where to turn for support.

A final consideration is to not come out at all: stay in stealth until retirement, or look for a new job AS my real self (nothing hidden). The retirement route would mean staying in stealth for 2–4 years. I'm not sure that's possible, because I'm going through visible changes. AND quite frankly, I don't and shouldn't have to hide. Yet I am weighing it. I'd rather not leave. I like where I work, and I like the people I work with.

OK, enough about work and surgeries.

What else does it take to get to safe?

Retirement is looming, and I'm getting older...

This is a double issue. As you get older, surgeries are harder to recover from. And while I'm working, I have insurance that will cover the surgeries.

For health reasons, the risk is lower the sooner I get the surgeries. This also means I MUST get all surgeries done BEFORE retirement so I can use my insurance benefits. This is made extremely difficult by the MASSIVE wait lists at places that DO take my insurance. Waits are 2–3 years. Because of retirement, I can't wait that long. So my plan is multi-pronged: talk to MANY providers, pick and choose, and do surgeries with insurance benefits where possible. This means some may be 100% out of pocket, or out of network.

Living life without being a financial burden on others requires a good retirement plan, savings, investments, knowing what Social Security will provide in retirement, and accepting what my month-to-month income might be for the rest of my life. It also means selling my house and getting out from under a crushing mortgage I can't really afford. My financial decisions need to position me so I'm not in debt and can live simply and comfortably for the rest of my life without burdening others, while also seeking very expensive medical procedures.

No pressure, right? I share all of this because transgender people face all these complexities. It's not easy being transgender. (Shout out to Kermit the Frog: "It's not easy bein' green.")

I get it, Kermit. The world is a tough place.