At a time when politicians are targeting trans people to rile up their base, little gestures matter
On May 1, I took steps — literally — to improve my health. Earlier in the year, I had seen a cardiologist for the first time.
He did a stress test and some other tests. I’d been having an irregular heartbeat — premature ventricular contractions that were disconcerting.
I’ve had them for a while, and they worried me. I was afraid to work out or stress my heart, so I didn’t.
But I also kept eating, and I put on weight. Not good. My question to my doc was, “Can I safely exercise?” He said “yes.”
So, like Forrest Gump, I started walking. I made it a half mile that first day. I was gassed. I walked the next day and the next … I haven’t stopped since.
I walked 172 miles in September.
I get up before dawn and set out with my border collie, Molly. She and I walk to a park near the house and hit the walking trail along with a few dozen of my neighbors. Lately, I’ve been walking six miles before work. So far in October, I’ve only taken one day off.
Since May 1, I’ve lost 48 pounds. Yes, I’ve changed my eating habits too. I feel better; my knees don’t hurt anymore, and, no, I’m not taking Ozempic. Diet and exercise — that’s it.
But that’s not what this piece is about.
I think part of what this long journey has been about is dealing with stress. As a transgender woman, I’m frankly terrified of the wrong outcome of the presidential election next month.
In case you haven’t noticed, transgender people have become Public Enemy No. 1. Political ads for Trump and Cruz, among others, have painted us as ruining women’s sports. And Trump has been insanely accusing schools of performing gender confirmation surgery on students without parent’s knowledge or approval.
That’s crazy talk. But words matter.
A Trump presidency would likely spell calamity for many of us in the LGBQ community but especially so for trans people. You think it’s bad now? Just wait.
My daughter in Atlanta called me on Sunday. She’s a big UT fan, and she watched the game on Saturday night. During the game — and because it was Texas — she was exposed to some of the vitriol ginning up fear of trans people. She had called to see if I was OK.
She’s worried about me. I really hate that. I never want my identity to be a cause of concern for my daughters. But truth be told, I don’t feel all that safe anymore. You can’t tell just by looking which person has heard enough of the hate-filled messaging on air and online (especially online) to do something about it.
On my morning walks, I see dozens of my neighbors. I usually wear a San Francisco Giants hat from their Pride collection — a black hat with a rainbow SF that was a gift from my friend, Rafael. I don’t hide who I am, but I don’t exactly advertise it. I try and greet people on the trail with a “good morning.” Some respond with a greeting, a smile or nod. Others act like I’m invisible. That’s fine by me. I’m not out there to have a conversation, though I’m always up for making new friends. I’m there to get some exercise, relieve stress and start my day in a positive way.
There is one man that I see maybe a couple of times a week. He is tall and maybe pushing 80 years old. He walks like someone who served in the military, and he wears a U.S. Cavalry Stetson. I gotta be honest, the first time I saw him, I gave him a wide berth. He didn’t fit the profile of someone who was a fan of the Queer community. Whether he is, or isn’t, I don’t know.
We were walking in opposite directions on the path, and when we were about 15 feet apart, he quietly reached up and tipped his hat to a lady. I smiled and about melted. The next time I saw him, he was with a couple of other people and, again when I approached, he doffed his hat like a proper gentleman, which he surely is.
Each time we met, he would tip his hat without a word. I finally stopped and told him that he made my day. (He really did!) That simple gesture of affirmation means so much!
He now adds a big smile when he sees me. I don’t know his name, but I feel a little safer, a little less stressed. Such a simple gesture can really brighten someone’s day.
Leslie McMurray is transgender education and advocacy associate at Resource Center in Dallas. She is also a regular columnist for Dallas Voice. Read more of her blogs at lesliemichelle44.wordpress.com.