Wearing the uniform... a different take...

It's 1978, the war in Vietnam is over, in May of that year I get on a plane to Kentucky. Ft Knox, to be exact. It was the first part of my introduction into the world of the military. I was starting basic training. I spent twelve years in the Army. Twelve years of getting up in the morning and putting on a uniform so that I would fit in with the rest of my unit. Twelve years of making sure that everything was it the right place, what was supposed to shine was glistening and what was to be pressed had creases so sharp they could cut you. I am proud of my time in the Army. I learned a lot, I grew as a person. I also learned how to hide my true self. There have been some recent studies that indicate that as many as 40% (or more) of M to F transgender individuals served in the military, if you add in those of us that went on to be police, fire, and other high risk and hyper masculine professions, I'm sure the number would be significantly higher.

 In addition to all the other things I learned, putting on the uniform is perhaps the most profound. In this case, I use it as more of an analogy than anything else. In my case, I am not out at work, I just started a new job and I'm not comfortable introducing my new co-workers to Vicki (although I expect that they will meet me eventually). In my current circumstance I have come to look upon the clothes I wear to work every day as my “uniform”. My way of blending in, being part of the unit. In this case the uniform regulations are not as stringent as they were in the Army. The rules I was given were that I shouldn't wear it if someone can “see over it, under it, or through it”... A far cry from pressed utilities and spit shined boots, but it does help me keep my sanity...

I suppose that in the interest of keeping my house, and paying my bills, I have put myself back in the closet. Although I was not out at my last job, a number of people know "the secret". So, I suppose that not being out at my new job is not so much a step backward as a continuation of the status quo.  My time between jobs, when I was able to dress daily was eye opening. I learned a lot. I became comfortable with, or at least resigned to, the path my life has taken. I don't know where my path will take me, but I do know that my wife and I are taking Vicki along for the trip.