I'll never forget the first day on the job in my authentic form.
It was a day or two after I held my own "coming out" party as my trans self. The party included some friends, relatives, and a coworker or two. At the time, I worked as a desk clerk at the local museum and the local orchestra's theatre box office. I did all the work to "prep" my colleagues at both jobs: provided HR departments with my legal name change papers; informed my immediate colleagues (though they had known weeks and months in advance); and even wrote up a blog post-turned-email on my new legal name, pronouns, and the importance of understanding and respecting them.
After a few hours of smiling and helping guests, my boss at the museum pulled me to the side. With a smile I thought equated to a rainbow emoji, she passive-aggressively told me that my eyelashes were lovely but "a bit too much." With a small smile, I nodded and took them off to the staff room.
If only I knew this was the start of a long journey dealing with similar actions.
Out of Office: Coming Out at Work as a Trans Person
There's coming out, and then there's coming out at work. One is a declaration of identity, and the other is a risk decision.
Let me explain.
Coming out as trans in the workplace is not a moment of clarity wrapped in a neat little bow. It's a thousand paper cuts of disclosure: the HR form, the Zoom meeting, and side chats with a coworker who stumbles over when referring to your former or chosen name like a lava flow. When your health insurance and livelihood hang in the balance, coming out isn't just brave but a negotiation.
And, sometimes, not always a fair one, especially when the Man with the Orange Face and his folk make it even harder for us to thrive.
If you're like me, you probably drafted words or prepped yourself in a mirror of coming out that sometimes reads like a corporate apology statement. You may have whispered, "I'm transitioning," in a one-on-one the way most people admit to forgetting a deadline. You may have overcompensated with work for weeks, hoping no one would say the wrong thing—and knowing someone inevitably would.
And if you're lucky, you may have been met with support, celebration, and maybe even an awkward "I watched Pose once!" comment from someone in Accounting.
But before we get to the office confetti, let's rewind.
Coming Out to Yourself, First
Before you come out to Brenda in Finance, come out to yourself in the bathroom mirror. And take your time.
No rule says you have to disclose your identity at work. There's no medal for being the first out trans person in your office, like there's no penalty for choosing peace and privacy over visibility. Whether you're a trans femme software engineer, a nonbinary barista, or a gender-expansive guidance counselor, your identity is valid regardless of who knows it.
Know Your Rights, Even If They Feel Like Suggestions
Depending on where you live, the protections for trans workers range from rock solid to barely a rumor.
In the U.S., the Supreme Court's Bostock v. Clayton County decision means it's technically illegal to fire someone for being transgender. That's the law. But the reality? Trans people are still disproportionately fired, misgendered, passed over, and victims of aggression in the workplace to push them out.
When I was still at the museum, I increasingly dealt with what I now realized were microaggressions that ranged from how I looked "overdressed" at work to "not looking happy when I arrived" minutes after walking into the museum (yes, that one was on a performance review.) Despite being one of two non-white staffers promoted to full-time, they slowly began to pull back on my hours to the point that I lost the insurance benefits that helped me at the start of my transition. It increasingly felt like they wanted me there for diversity points but didn't truly value me.
So, before you write that coming-out message or change your email signature, check your company's non-discrimination policy. Do they list "gender identity" explicitly? Do they have a trans-inclusive health plan? An LGBTQ+ employee resource group? A clue?
Because being out at work shouldn't feel like spelunking into HR's inbox without a rope.
Choose Your Own (Coming Out) Adventure
Some people send a big email to everyone in the organization. Others drop it in one-on-ones. I wish I had included a surprise party with a gender reveal cake. There's no right way to come out at the workplace. But I would suggest thinking about three things:
- Audience: Who needs to know? (Just your boss? The team?)
- Tone: Do you want to educate, update, or just inform? (You don't have to write a dissertation…unless you want to.)
- Support: Do you have an ally in the room, someone who can back you up, correct pronouns gently, and advocate if needed?
Looking back, I feared coming out at the orchestra more than at the art museum. The art museum conveyed avant-garde and a safe space for diversity (I presumed). Meanwhile, the dedicated patrons who volunteered, sat on committees, and donated some serious money always gave the vibe that their safe space was somewhat conservative. But I was surprised to receive a warm welcome when I came out at that workplace. Was there a slight bump in the road? Absolutely. A day or so after my mass email, one coworker who worked in the Development Office explained he would have difficulty going by my new name and pronouns, not to mention the occasional asks if they could go by my nickname. But if they could pronounce Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff, they could best learn to say my name equally.
You don't have to be funny or fabulous or write the Dear White People of coming out emails. You have to be clear to them and always be kind to yourself.
Manage the Fallout or the Glow-Up
Some workplaces surprise you in the best ways. A bouquet shows up on your desk. Someone buys you lunch. Your email and signature updates are met with nothing but hearts and "Thank you for sharing."
Other times? The air gets thick. A colleague calls you by your old name in a meeting. Your manager avoids eye contact. The guy who always overshares about his CrossFit regime suddenly gets quiet.
Coming out is a mirror. It shows you who's been listening and, sadly, who's been pretending. And it can be deeply disappointing. Here's the thing: people will get it wrong. Someone will say "transgendered." Someone will ask if you've had any surgeries. Someone will say they couldn't "tell" like it's a compliment. You don't have to educate them. You don't have to smile.
But you do get to correct them. You do get to document it. And you do get to put your mental health first.
No job is worth your dignity. No paycheck is worth your peace.
Making Space for Yourself and Others
The moment after you come out of work can be strangely anticlimactic. You might feel underwhelmed or overwhelmed. You might find yourself overexplaining or over-apologizing. You may overperform to prove that you're still a team player, hoping they still see you as 'professional' and 'normal.'
But, my dear, you never were normal. You're a trans trailblazer in a world full of binary spreadsheets and gendered bathrooms. And just by being out, if you choose to be, you open the door for someone else to walk through. Because visibility isn't everything, but it means something.
Sometimes, coming out at work doesn't just shift how others see you. Many times, it shifts how you see yourself. A new confidence, a deeper breath, a refusal to shrink into the person they hired before they knew the full story. Some will cheer you on as you get comfortable and confident in your skin.
And expect others who will fear and loathe you because they cannot dim the glory of your shine.
I won't lie. It's hard. It's risky. It's rarely as simple as clicking "Send." But one day, a new hire might scroll through the org chart, see you, and realize they aren't alone. One day, a colleague might thank you for quietly helping them understand the trans person in their life, be it a child or a neighbor. One day, you might catch your reflection in the elevator mirror and smile, knowing you're no longer pretending.
You Are Limitless
I finally left the Memorial Art Gallery at the University of Rochester exactly 19 months after the start of my transition. After all the aggression, I realized that the professional path wasn't for me. But at the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra? I was there for another four years, moving up the ladder from a desk clerk at their box office to working in their Marketing department as a Content Manager and ending the last leg of my stint there as a Director of Content & Digital Marketing. It wasn't always rosy there. But I was always allowed to grow professionally because I grew into my authentic self.
And I continue to grow every day.
So, whether you're crafting a coming out email or just surviving another day in the cubicle that smells like printer ink and repression (not to mention those awful overhead lights!), remember:
You deserve to be seen.
You deserve to be respected.
And you deserve to take up space.
Keep glowing and growing,
Your Lovable Trans Auntie
Your Lovable Trans Auntie is our go-to advice column for life’s biggest (and messiest) questions—love, work, identity, and everything in between. With a signature blend of warmth, wit, and just the right amount of sass, Auntie offers readers a uniquely trans perspective that’s as affirming as it is entertaining. Whether dishing out heartfelt wisdom, practical advice, or a little tough love, Auntie is here to remind everyone that they’re never alone on this journey
Got a crush but don’t know how to tell them you’re trans? Wondering how to deal with that coworker who still “forgets” your pronouns? Trying to navigate family drama, dating dilemmas, or just figuring out who you are? Auntie’s got you. Submit your questions to [email protected].
