Support Groups and Coming Out

“One flight down, there’s a song on low.  And you might have picked up on the sound.”  Words from the song “One Flight Down” performed by Nora Jones.  For so long that song on low played and I ignored it.  How could I recognize it when I was busy denying that my version of life was playing to the tune of femininity? 

Time is our friend and our foe; peeling pages from the calendar as we either flourish or founder.  Time heals and also teaches.   I have been anxious about moving forward with my transition.  I’m not talking about SRS.  That seems to be the first paragraph of many people’s questions.  Will I “do” the surgery?  My stock answer is “There’s much air between here and there.”  My transition is occurring in phases: 

Phase One is acknowledging Nikki. 

Phase Two is giving Nikki time.

Phase Three is expelling denial.

Phase Four is coming to the realization that Nikki is me.  This phase, although seemingly duplicative of Phase Three, is different if only by a degree or two.

Phase Five and following involve the coming out.  Somewhere down the road is SRS, presuming it’s in the cards.

I post the various phases to indicate my walk.  Your walk may be similar or it may be markedly different.  There is no correct path.  But consistent with all walks is the essential want and need of warm, supportive, honest and welcoming friends.  Without the infrastructure of confidants, advisors and mentors the path becomes steeper and more treacherous.

My friends are wonderful.  I consider them my real family.  Sure, I have blood relatives.  Some are accepting and understanding.  Others are empathetic bordering on pity.  Still others are dismissive, wanting nothing to do with my folly.  Regardless, the journey must progress lest I become complacent and regress to the sticky surfaces of regret.

Nobody but close and trusted friends who are similarly situated can faithfully walk with you and help you through the many turnstiles and tollgates.  I have struggles; low points.  But they are becoming fewer and the separation growing.  High points, not euphoria but true “life highs” affirm my decisions, my path.  Acceptance comes in many forms such as, being called ma’am regularly when in public.  Smiles from passersby warm and provide strength to quell doubt.  Yes I harbor doubt but I’m revoking its berthing privileges.

I came out to my next door neighbor last evening.  She was gracious and complimentary.  She smiled and I knew she was genuinely accepting.  She had the presence of mind to ask my name and when I said “Nikki” she smiled and said “Nikki.  I like that much better.”

So my walk turned into a skip as I ran an errand and upon returning exited my vehicle with more resolve and confidence. Life goes on with or without us.  It’s our choice to ride along or watch it pass us by.  Those calendar pages are relentless.

Love and hugs, Nikki