When I was four years old, I asked Grandma who took care of me if I could be a girl instead since this boy thing wasn’t working out for me. She laughed warmly, and said “sure”. But no matter how many times I put on her slippers, nothing changed.
When I got dial-up internet access at the very end of the nineties, I learned people successfully transitioned and that Thailand was known for their surgeries — if only I could afford it. It felt like a far away dream I would revisit once a year. In the meantime, I plodded onward never quite comfortable with myself. I did give it my best shot, but I was always awkward in my own skin.
When I reached 28 years old, I was pretty upset about how life was going for myself. I stayed home from work on a reluctant mental health day off, and somehow stumbled on The Gender Rebels podcast. It was like a how-to guide on transitioning in the mid-2010’s. I realized then that British Columbia had transition resources available as well, with THE SURGERY available in Quebec.
I had months of hoops to jump through after obtaining a referral from my doctor. I nearly gave up on the prospect of receiving hormone therapy, resigning myself to the idea that I may just be stuck with social transition alone which was dysphoria-inducing daily. Finally, during a routine visit to the supervising specialist I received my prescription along with blood work. Oh, that was magical.
I quietly grew out my hair but kept it hidden at work under a fashionable head wrap. I wore nail polish that my partner did for me, but I did not come out to anyone except a select few. People noticed changes though but being a progressive workplace with a very lax dress code it wasn’t terribly unusual.
One day, I was running late and didn’t have my usual baggy boy-mode clothes with me to work since I came in from an outing with my partner. The entire warehouse floor was abuzz with curiosity over the unknown pretty new girl who mysteriously showed up. I dispensed with the baggy boy clothes from that day forwards.
Since then, I’ve watched a few colleagues follow my lead in transitioning for themselves once they saw the path was clear. They bloomed!
Coming out to my parents was more interesting than I expected. Mom and Dad came from a world of superstition and cultural mythology, and between the two they decided that Mom would be the one to ask about the changes in me they have been seeing. She merely wanted to know if I was possessed by a mischievous spirit or if I was truly presenting as myself. I reassured Mom I was indeed myself and this is what I wanted. I had their full support from that point forward.
In 2022, I had THE SURGERY for myself at UBC Hospital after a few years of driving night buses as a rookie bus driver. I was surrounded by doctors in a teaching operating room setting as they were learning about the novel and updated technique. I saw myself in a new light ever since. My days are much happier. I had never danced before. Now I dance without care.
I was not able to tell Grandma in person about my journey though. Her dementia got worse, and she hardly recognizes anyone other than Mom. But I was able to tell her in one of my dreams I was grateful for her encouragement when I was little.
Written by Ophelia Li
Member of Unifor Local 111
