She was a physicist from humble beginnings who went on to be an executive at General Electric, where she faced skepticism, hostility and the loneliness of often being the only woman in the room. Growing up, my mother taught my sister and me to speak up, to be assertive and to take up space. But there were also more sobering moments, like the time I found myself on a dark street with a woman who quickly crossed to the other side. Sometimes this friendliness led to vulnerability, like the time a beefy guy I sat next to on a plane gulped down two gin and tonics and then told me, tearily, that his wife was leaving him. There were the “Hey, brother”s from gas station employees, the oddly subservient “Sir”s from salesmen who wanted something from me and the presumption of camaraderie from men at the gym, on the train, at work. To be seen for the man I was felt glorious, sure, but also jarring. I read somewhere once that first phase of identity formation is figuring out who you are, but the next one - the one we rarely talk about, especially in stories about trans people - is finding your place in the world. The effects of the hormone were remarkably fast, and every morning I’d look at myself in the mirror with reverent awe, charting the muscle forming, the spray of hair covering my chest, the stubble on my lip.
I moved to Boston in 2011, and my first week of work at a newspaper there coincided with my first shot of testosterone. Corporate World: What is it like to transition while working for Wall Street? A Goldman Sachs’ employee shares her experience.
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