a while after i came out as trans to my ex, we were involved in a discussion about finances. since by that time we were divorced and living in separate residences, money was extremely tight. our main concern was our son, and we spoke of the expense of sending him to college, which would begin in maybe 6 or 7 years. the issue of my transition was broached, and the eternal question of “why” was once again raised.

“because it’s better than being dead”, i answered.

“perhaps for you, but your son would benefit as you are worth more dead” she answered.

in many ways, this was true. through my then prestigious, white collar, privileged job, i had a life insurance policy worth in excess of a half-million dollars. interesting though, that she was the sole beneficiary. she would have benefited as well. unfortunately for them, a resulting death from a failure to pursue transition would most likely have been seen as a suicide, which was one of the exclusions explicitly detailed in the policy.

i’ll add that i never liked the “transition or die” mantra, that seems so prevalent in trans circles. even so, i remember well how i felt at that time, the depression that i battled, and the overwelming hopelessness that permeated my life. transition, to me, was the way out, the only path that offered an improvement in the quality of my life. i remember thinking that if i couldn’t, or wouldn’t transition, the only alternative was that my life would have to end. it had become intolerable.

at that time, i was also in the midst of therapy, and was just about ending my weekend excursions to the local gay club scene, which would end at my apartment with a one night stand. my therapist told me that i did this in an effort to validate my identity. she told me that if a man found me attractive enough to take me home for sex, i interpreted that as validation. i wasn’t so sure. i just wanted to have sex, something that i managed to avoid until my marriage, and then again to mostly avoid until my divorce. there was no question that my weekends were dangerous. i couldn’t be bothered with protection, and how i managed to escape disease is nothing short of a miracle. my therapist and i did agree that my behavior on weekends was most certainly suicidal, yet a dealth resulting from a fatal std might very well have been covered by my life insurance. i’m not sure if it would have been covered by my medical insurance at the time. i’m glad that i never had to find out.

these days, i’m still worth more dead, from a financial perspective. due to a court order, i maintain a $100,000 policy with my son as beneficiary. he has three years left of college, and my portion of the contribution to his life, including child support and medical is probably about $50,000 over that 3 years. so he’d make about double if i died due to accidental or natural causes. and as an added bonus, he wouldn’t have to write to me any more, which is the only contact between us, according to his wishes. we haven’t spoken or seen each other in 6 years.

as far as i’m concerned, and despite the suicidal thoughts that still plague me, i’d just assume not be dead. functioning in the world as a woman for the past 10 years or so has most definately improved the quality of my life, just as i had imagined it. my husband of 2 years would be devistated, as we are very much in love with each other, and have become best friends. even my mom, who at first was very much against my transition, would miss our weekly phone conversations. my dad and two sisters would miss me i’m sure, though we speak less often these days. living 2500 miles away from them can have that effect.

when i think of family now, i think first of my husband. i can’t imagine living without him. my son is next, though in a very real way, i don’t know him at all. we were extremely close up until his teens - a year or two after my separation from his mom - and people would even comment about how close we were. that closeness will remain with me i think, despite the subsequent events. he’s my son, and i’m his father, much as either of us want to play with the semantics. my mom, dad, and sisters are also family, but i haven’t seen them since the winter of 2004, right before i moved west to be with my love.

i like to believe that on average, i am worth more alive to my family. perhaps one day, when lgbt people are actually generally seen as human (as opposed to how my ex described me - “a freak of nature”), our worth will be seen in terms of our humanity.