I’m Coming Out…

I have something to admit…

So lately, I have been feeling poorly and it’s been a few months now. It’s a combination of things that have been getting me down. After news of a few American celebrities taking their own lives, I was left to wonder how I even made it this far. I’m lonely here in Vietnam. I have spent time with coworkers, but I long for someone who already knows me, It’s difficult for me at this age to get to know new people. I’ve become pickier and now see that I need to be even more so with the people around me.

I do know some cool people, but the cool kids live in HCMC. We met at our CELTA course and they lead busy lives as I do, so we don’t get to see each other often enough. I long for intimacy. I long for a pet, but I’m not quite ready to make that commitment. I also find my poor feelings connected to teaching teens. I can honestly say I don’t like teaching the teens here, yet I persevere. Unfortunately, that doesn’t alleviate the exhaustion felt at the end of each of those classes. They don’t care to learn English, nor do they even want to be in a classroom. They lack curiosity and basically teens are assholes. Luckily, as of late I have been teaching more adult classes and I am grateful to be using familiar material, American English File. I am questioning my teaching options.

Besides that, I have an annoying and awkward situation with someone I work with. I do work with a Trump supporter, but this blog is not about him. It’s an obvious problem. But I have another coworker who happens to be transphobic. This experience with them has made me quite aware of the charmed life I have lead as a transgendered man. I haven’t felt loss. I’ve always had support. In a lot of my life I never had to come out. I never purposefully lead a stealth life. I was just being me, no explanations. I was married to a woman so the world saw me exactly as it should, a man. The only time I had to think about coming out was after my divorce. It was going to be a new and daunting thing.

Now I need to back pedal a bit…I had made some “friends” here in my current city. Two women. They live in my building. We work together. One is South African and the other is Australian. We’re around the same age but they look much older than their age. I thought a friendship could grow. I thought I had made a connection. The longer we were in this friendship the more I considered coming out to them. As I didn’t consider us that close I never felt compelled to really say anything about, but it was in the back of my mind. I’m not attracted to either of them so I didn’t think they needed more information.

Well, one night after the Tet holiday I had them over to share my Duty Free whisky purchase. We got a little messy with the drinks. It got messy enough for them to go home leaving me laying on the warm not comforting bathroom tiles. This wasn’t before the Aussie blurted out, “I’d fuck you.” Not knowing how to respond, I said nothing. I almost said, no you wouldn’t. It definitely got me to thinking that I needed to same something.

I never flirted with her. I never made sexual jokes or innuendo.  We’ve never even touched in a hug, high five or hand shake. The closest we’d been was when she drove me on her motorbike. Since she expressed attraction I thought I needed to say something, and we were “friends”, so. I invited her over once more to talk. A few days had passed and the longer it wasn’t being addressed the more I felt stress. Did I mention, I hadn’t come out to someone in over 14 years.

She sat away from me and I began to explain: “I’ve never had to do this before. It can sound a bit shocking. I feel very nervous, but I’m just going to say it…If we were ever to be intimate you would need to know something about me. I’m transgendered. Of course, she was shocked. There was disbelief. The conversation didn’t last much longer. She expressed that there was still an attraction and then rambled a bit about being with women before, just not an American. I don’t think she understood that I wasn’t expressing a desire to sleep with her. I never had a desire to be involved with her in that way. The air became more and more awkward by the minute. I asked her if she wanted to talk anymore about it. She didn’t and she left.

Then there was the silence. Okay, she needed to digest the information. I get it. There were about four days we didn’t speak after speaking everyday if not seeing each other going to a café or something. It was a deep silence. Not only did I not see her in the building, I didn’t see her at work. I told her on Monday and by Friday I felt I needed to check in. There wasn’t even a message of asking how anyone was so I knew this wasn’t good.

Friday, we met up in a café were would regularly go and meet. It serves so so western food, but nothing to really talk about. I thought that if things weren’t cool it would at least be respectful to tell me where she was at with it all. I shouldn’t be chasing her to find out. She left my apartment saying things were cool and her actions said something else. We ate and I had to ask her to catch me up with her thoughts. I think it would be better to be friends. Things can get complicated. I never wanted to be more than friends in the first place, but I did tell her something I had felt was quite intimate about me. She goes on to say, It’s a trust thing for me. I don’t know if what you have been telling is the truth. I mean I get why you didn’t say anything, but I don’t know what to believe. Match drops to bridge and immediate combustion happens. In other words she called me a liar.

Now, if I had pursued her, flirted, insinuated I was attracted to her, I could understand. I didn’t do any of that. In no way did I betray trust. What transphobic people don’t understand is that we were lying before. Being transgendered is the most honest life to live. Identifying leaves only truth for us. I am a man. This is my truth. I don’t have to lie or manipulate people to be in my life and I for sure didn’t do that with her. She basically called me a liar and that’s where and when isolation, depression, and rage crept into my life.

Well, shit. I live in the same building and could run into her at any time in the parking area or elevator. We work at the same school. Slowly, and noticeably she stopped making eye contact with me. Her being cordial ended when she asked to use my extra helmet, that I had given away to a buddy as a souvenir, and I told her I didn’t have it any longer. Probably what happened is that she didn’t believe me, for the liar she thinks I am. She then stopped talking to me all together. I went back to that garden café on my own to spend an afternoon. The owner asked me where I had been. I said around. Then she told me about a small gathering that my “friends” called me about. I should have come. It was nice. Oh, I get it now, because that phone call or message never came.

I no longer try to speak to her or make eye contact. At first it was strange. I had become a bit angry, but I’m not going to go out of my way to make her feel comfortable. I am angry at being called a liar. People are going to believe whatever they want to believe. I’m not here to educate them. I don’t have to have patience for them to get it. I just don’t need shitty people in my life.

It took me a minute to snap out of it. This summer would have been my 20th San Francisco Pride weekend if I was still living there. In the past I would make brunch and watch the parade on television, then go to the festival in the afternoon. In light of American politics today and my current feelings, this year’s event is very important for me. Fuck man, even my soccer club are LGBT supporters, because they fucking get it. I miss having people around me that get it. It can be a lonely struggle.

I maintain my identity. Whatever you see, the vibes you get is exactly what you should. It’s all me and nothing else is needed to be projected. There is nothing fake about me. Not one transperson is trying to fool you. Your trust issues are with yourself not me. I don’t feel compelled or have a need to convince you of my existence. Hence, I won’t go out of my way to make anyone feel comfortable about their own bullshit.

I have quite a few people to credit for my strength. Ortgans, years ’93 – ’96. My years at UCSB were more formative than my high school and teen years. I need to give a huge hug to my family who I do tend to hold at arms-length, they continue to grasp for me. I have an old school friend who would carry me to conservative evangelical christian events in her LUV. We came out the other side much better than before. My current friends, who haven’t blinked an eye as I tell this story, I wish there were more of you in the world.

Happy Pride Month. I know some warriors out there. Thank you for your perseverance and reminders of love. Your work is not lost, nor has it gone unnoticed.

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3 thoughts on “I’m Coming Out…

  1. I’m sending you so, so much love right now, through the ether. You’re doing some really huge work right now, not only for yourself but for the collective, and it sometimes hurts, and it’s sometimes fucking hard. And its also amazing and enlightening and in the end, so worth the effort. Remember that.

    Hang in there, my friend. And amid the feelings of isolation and loneliness, remember that while you don’t need to return to the U.S., you also don’t need to stay where you are. There’s a whole dang world out there, and you teach English – everybody wants you!

    Holding you close in my heart, Sara

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  2. “Your trust issues are with yourself not me.” This is it. I can empathize with the feelings of anger, depression, and isolation that comes from people accusing you of their own issues. Layered on top of being in a new area acknowledging teaching teens is leaving you drained, and the fuckery of what is going on in home country … screamtastic. I always enjoyed talking to you in college because I felt you were 100% real with heart, no bullshit and that is a vulnerable and strong place to be at the same time. Follow the things and people who bring more joy and a sense of mutual enrichment, less shittiness. We need more of this light to recalibrate the scales.

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  3. Zion, in the 16+ years I’ve known you I’ve always admired how much intention you’ve put into living a life that feels authentic to you.
    You had a bad experience doing something you haven’t had to do in a very long time. I’m so sorry she doesn’t get it. You don’t owe anyone explanations, but when you choose to tell someone more about you, it’s really disappointing that she didn’t just see it as a deepening of your friendship. This won’t happen every time. It was just a bad first shot at it.
    Please let me know anytime you need phone company or anything else I can do. It takes a long time to finally feel settled with some friends who feel totally comfortable, and I know the feeling of waiting for that to happen.
    Sending hugs and I love you lots.
    Andrea

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