A year ago today I posted a blog and asked all of the people
in my world to start calling me by a different name.
I look back now.. I read through… I shake my head.. I feel a
little sad…
I want to go back to that person one year ago and say:
It’s okay.
You’re okay.
You’ve got this.
There are other people like you.
They are going to surround you so so soon.
Just hold on, Jackson .
You are not alone in this.
While there is no roadmap, there will be plenty of signs
along the way.
Take a deep breath.
Everything is alright.
You are alright.
You do not have to be afraid.
I know you are anyway and that is okay, too.
I do not need to revisit the pronouncement and announcement
and decision making process that let up to my becoming Jackson .
But I re-read my words and I thought of where I was and all
of the fear and…
I wish I had been more brave.
I hid behind the name Jack in the belief that it would
somehow be more acceptable to you, that you would find it easier to stomach,
easier to adjust to, more understandable, not as much of a stretch.
It was, after all, my initials. Before and after the change.
I was asked to sign a birthday card for an employee at work
that very first day and I signed it JAC. I froze. I was too afraid. I remember
that day and my cheeks burn. I wish I had been more brave.
I am far too occasionally asked what pronouns I prefer, and I
fumble and stumble and fall over the answer. Out of fear. Of how I will be
perceived. Of what you will say. Of what you will think.
It is indeed a tightrope to walk when you are enamored with
connection and terrified of rejection.
Love me. Accept me. Want me. But, please let me be me.
Whoever that is.
And I understand that my landscape is a rocky one. What was wanted yesterday has changed today and that may no longer hold true tomorrow.
I can only reiterate that there continues to be no roadmap
and I sincerely do wish I had been more able to describe who I am and what I
need and what feels right and what feels wrong. I wish I had been more brave.
I lied awake in bed last night and realized that I feel
fractured, that I am walking in two worlds.
In one world, I am all Jackson
and I am surrounded by people who see me as I am. People who hold space for me acknowledge
me and do not feel unsteady around me. I feel confident and surefooted and
grounded. I finally feel like who I was born to be. I finally feel free.
In another I am the person whose name used to be Jennifer. I
feel whispered questions and misunderstandings and a divide that I do not know
how to bridge. I do not know where to step and I always feel a little off
kilter and out of sorts. I cannot find solid ground here. I did not do well in
expressing who I am and what I need.
I wish I had been more brave.
I look around and cry out “someone needs to educate these
people!”
And I remember that if there is no visible trail, maybe that
means that I have to blaze it.
And I am afraid.
But you have to be afraid in order to be brave. Otherwise
you wouldn’t need bravery.
So, here I am. A year later. Jackson . Unashamedly and unabashedly Jackson . There is no part
of me that is not Jackson .
It is as though I have always been this person.
It is that way because I have always been. I was born this
way. I just didn’t know it yet. It took some time to meet this person that I
really do love most of the time.
And I look back and I realize that it was not weakness or cowardice
that led me to make the decisions that I made – the uncertainty and the insecurity
and the trying to make MY transition easier on YOU. It was all just part of the
journey.
My journey.
I’m glad I had not been more brave.
I did it perfectly. I did it exactly how Jackson
