Every now and then, you meet someone who you really like – and you wonder if maybe there is something in the “everything happens for a reason” fate theory after all. I met someone through my work – and she’s turned out to be a brilliant trans ally and friend.
I run my own business, and I had an email last month from a woman asking if I was looking for anyone who could help with the sales side. As luck would have it I was, so we agreed to meet up for a coffee a few days before Christmas.
I wasn’t entirely sure what Lynn looked like, but she knew exactly what I look like as she’d read my profile on LinkedIn, where I have an en femme picture.
I wasn’t presenting as female when we met and, as I walked through the coffee shop door, the first thing she said, in front of several other customers, was: “Hello! I wondered whether you’d be wearing your wig!”
I’m not often lost for words, but I was on this occasion. I mumbled something like: “Erm, no… no. Hello, you must be Lynn.”
I was really taken aback. Not only had she said this in front of other people on our first meeting but it made me realise that my £200 wig just doesn’t cut the mustard. Both things pissed me off a tad!
We headed upstairs, had a good chat about the business and got on really well. She’s got a brilliant background in sales, and she joined my little team. She was also fascinated – and incredibly supportive – about my transition, asking loads of questions and clearly cool about working with someone who’s about to start quite a journey with hormones and whatnot.
Her earlier comment was just a throwaway remark, I guess to let me know that she wouldn’t have given a monkey’s what I was wearing and how I was presenting.
So Christmas and new year came and went, and then we met up again today. She invited me to her house in Derby and cooked one of the finest pasta dishes I’ve ever tasted, served with Parmesan and plenty of black pepper. I need that recipe for that sauce!
We talked about business, and we chatted more about my transition. It turns out she has transgender friends and thinks the whole thing about being yourself and presenting how the f*ck you want to present is fabulous.
She asked me about pronouns – “Do I refer to you as he or she when talking to customers?” – and asked about the HRT, clothes, eyebrows, allsorts.
She even sent me home with a bag containing three gorgeous little black dresses that no long fit her – and said she’d sort me out with some jewellery next time we meet. What an awesome lady!
So it just goes to show what Fate can throw at you when you least expect it – one little email from a complete stranger, who’s now a colleague, a trans ally and a friend.
I’m feeling really happy with my life just now. Bring on the HRT!