Cassie’s Herstory -- Chapter 4

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Cassie’s Herstory -- Chapter 3

Note: The narrative below is the result of a suggestion from a good friend. She has requested that I write a book in which I described how I felt, what I thought, when things happened, and so forth. She is interested in understanding what my life experiences were and are.

As a result, I have tried to write the narrative, not as I would recall it from the present, but as I had experienced it in the past.

In February 1997, things started to change radically. These changes would lead to a new, improved life.

During the latter half of 1996 and into January 1997, I noticed that my depression was deepening steeply and deeply. Thoughts of suicide, which had always been present, were now more prevalent. The revelation came that I needed professional help badly, needed it quickly and would end up soon committing suicide if I did not get the help. So, I made an appointment with my family physician for a complete physical examination. During the examination, I revealed my deepest, darkest secret. He asked the obligatory questions, to eliminate the other possibilities. My answers convinced him that he was dealing with a transsexual in distress.

So, he prepared and sent the letter of referral to the Gender Identity Clinic at the then Clarke Institute of Psychiatry. At the end of July 1997, I was interviewed by two psychologists, one psychiatrist and an endocrinologist. They conducted their assessment of my gender and of my gender problems. About a month later, they issued two letters (one to my physician and one to me), stating that I was a transsexual. They invited me to start in their transsexuality program, and to attend the weekly group sessions in Toronto. (At the time, I was living in Kitchener, which is about an hour’s drive west of Toronto.)

So, each Wednesday evening, starting in September 1997, I made the trek into the clinic. My moods were definitely improved -- the depression and thoughts of suicide were replaced with the hope that I was now moving towards relieving my gender identity problem. Since Dad lives in Toronto, I would stop for a visit with him after each group session. He wondered why I was coming in each Wednesday evening. My stated reason was that I was attending medical treatments that were made available at that time. It was a bit of a stretch, but maintaining this reason for my visits helped to belay any further query.

The group sessions occurred most Wednesdays until May 1998. At that time, the group session were in recess until September 1997.

On 12 August 1998, I had my annual meeting with the psychiatrist. It was a hot, humid day. So, I dressed in a pair of white shorts, a light coloured tee shirt, socks and shoes. The psychiatrist was making his annual list of recommendations. The recommendations included, among others: (1) no telling the family and (2) start going out cross-dressed.

I looked down at my hairy legs, then at my hairy arms and then felt my permanent five-o’clock shadow. I figured that I was several years away from going out cross-dressed for the first time. I also figured that this guy needs to see a psychiatrist worse than I do -- and he is one!

Anyways, I was determined. On Thursday 27 August -- just 15 DAYS later -- I went out cross-dressed for the first time. (Please see Cassie’s First Time Out for a description of this adventure.) When I got home again, I was so exhilarated that I planned my next cross-dressing trip for the following Saturday. Things progressed quickly from that stage. My depression was greatly lessened, as I was now making major advancement towards the life that I needed to lead.

After the first Saturday out, my plans changed. Each Saturday morning, my routine was to get cross-dressed and spend the day in another town or city. My plans were to keep my double life a secret until I was ready go full-time, which I believed was still a few years off. I couldn’t be more wrong!

Back on 12 August 1998, I figured that I was several years away from going out cross-dressed. Things snowballed out-of-control quickly. Who would have figured that nine months would be enough to change my life totally? In October and November 1998, I came out to my immediate family. Then on 29 December 1998, I sent come-out letters to my aunts and uncles, who have been very supportive. In January 1999, my coming-out at work started. First, I came out to two very dear friends at work. Then my come-outs to management came in February 1999. At the start of March 1999, all of my co-workers knew. The news of my impending sex change spread like wildfire throughout the construction and engineering professions within Ontario. Never mind the cat being out of the bag; the whole blessed zoo was out!

My application for a name change went through on 2 March 1999. Once I had the "Change of Name" form, I quickly altered all of my documents (driver’s licence, health insurance card, life insurance, et cetera) to reflect my knew name. However, I was to continue my old name for a while. People were asking, "When is it going to happen?" I set the date of 25 May 1999 as my first day at work as Cassandra. Unbeknownst to me, people outside of the company knew of my upcoming gender transition. So, from March to May, I felt safe with no one outside of the company knowing. The problem was they started staring discretely. They were aware, but I wasn’t!

The day came. On 25 May, I started going to work as a woman. (I had actually started living as Cassandra on the previous Saturday, 22 May.) I was nervous going to work. What would people say? How much gawking would they have? My co-workers were wonderful!! To the point that it was a bit of a let-down. They treated me as though I had always been Cassandra. They had switched all references to me to the feminine form and no one used my old identity. Sure, there had been a few individuals who would have made rude remarks, if the company had not enforced their zero tolerance for harassment. These individuals still made their point through facial expressions. However, one could only pity the pettiness and the ignorance of these small-minded people.

Reflecting back on the recommendations made on 12 August 1998, even today, I find it hard to believe the progress that occurred in such a short time. I had figured back then that I was at least several years away from going out cross-dressed. No way I could have believed then that I would be living full-time as a woman in nine short months!.

What about the depression? About the thoughts of suicide? Yes, they still occur. However, the bouts of depression are shallower and less frequent. The thoughts of suicide now occur infrequently and fleetingly. My overall emotional state is vastly improved. If I had not gone through the gender transition, I definitely would have committed suicide.

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