I Came Out as Transgender at Work. I Wasn’t Ready.

I didn’t walk into work planning to talk about being transgender at work. There was no big announcement brewing. But sometime between checking emails and sipping coffee, this quiet question bubbled up: What would it even look like to explore this here? Could I really do this?

And suddenly, I needed to know.

So I walked into HR.

Talking to HR About Being Transgender at Work

I told her I’d been in therapy for a while and that one of the things we’d been talking about was identity. Specifically, gender. And that one of my “assignments” (yes, I used finger quotes) was to research what a social transition might look like at work.

That part wasn’t true. It was just something I made up to give myself emotional cover. Because I wasn’t ready to say, “Hey, I’m trans and I want to come out.” I wanted it to be an exploration, not a declaration. Something that felt reversible. Safer.

She was… wonderful.

She told me there was no official workplace policy on gender transition. The dress code wasn’t gendered beyond “appropriate attire.” Preferred names and pronouns were fully supported and easy to update in our systems. (Which, honestly, I already knew. I help manage some of those updates myself.)

Only the legal name had to stay in the HR system—for tax and legal reasons. Everything else? Up to me.

Then she told me her son was transgender.

She said she was proud of me. That she knew how hard this was. That she was glad I felt comfortable enough to ask.

I had been on the verge of tears the entire time. Holding it together took every ounce of control I had.

Panic Attack in the Hallway

But as soon as I left her office? Total collapse.

In the hallway, I started spiraling. Like full-on panic attack.

I rushed into the Wellness Room—shaking, hyperventilating, splash cold water on my face and not collapse. I felt like I had said too much. Like even though I hadn’t officially come out as transgender at work, I had still crossed some invisible line.

Because now what? Now I had to transition? Now people would expect something? And if I didn’t, I’d look like a liar? A poser?

I kept telling myself: “You didn’t come out as transgender at work. You just asked questions. This is fine.” But my brain wasn’t buying it.

Telling My Supervisor I Was Transgender at Work

After I calmed down, I went back to my desk. I did a little more work. Then I ate lunch. I tried to act normal.

And then I told my department head.

She’s someone I trust. She’s always asking about my life outside of work and genuinely seems to care. I knew if I was going to take another step, it needed to be with someone who could respond with empathy and knowledge. Fortunately, she’s on the C-team, so she already knows our workplace policies just as well as HR.

I repeated what I had said earlier. But I didn’t stop there this time. I asked her for her thoughts. What would this actually look like in our department? What did she think people would feel or assume? Would it be disruptive? Would anyone be uncomfortable?

I didn’t want to make waves. I didn’t want to throw anyone off or force anyone into awkward situations. I just wanted to understand what this might look like—if I ever even chose to go there.

She was incredibly kind and thoughtful.

She echoed everything HR had told me. That everything was entirely up to me. If I wanted to never do anything? Totally okay. If I wanted to show up tomorrow completely different? Also okay. She mentioned seeing someone earlier that same day—someone with a full beard wearing a skirt. She said our workplace is built to make space for individuality.

And then she added something: if I ever needed support coming out to others, she’d be there to help. But only if I wanted it. No pressure. No expectations.

I asked about maybe telling just one or two people who felt safe. She agreed that could help. She even told me that if anyone gave me problems, to come to her immediately.

Even though her response was perfect, part of me was still scared. What if everything she said was just performative? What if I had just made myself vulnerable for nothing? What if she secretly thought I was a problem waiting to happen?

And what if they decided to let me go before I did anything official? What if, legally, it became my word against theirs?

Talking to a Coworker: Mutual Respect and Transgender Exploration

I was already in deep, so I kept going.

I messaged a coworker who I consider my safe person. I asked if she had a few minutes for a walk.

We circled the building, and I told her everything: therapy, gender identity, curiosity about what a social transition might look like. I made it clear I wasn’t making any demands. I just wanted her thoughts. I wanted to be respectful.

Because even though this is about me, I care deeply about how it affects others—especially the women I work with. I didn’t want to intrude on anyone’s space or make them feel uncomfortable. I wanted to be respectful. Considerate. I wanted her to know that I saw her, too—and that her feelings mattered just as much as mine.

And, ironically, her name was also Michelle.

I asked how she felt about having another woman named Michelle in the department—partly joking, but also genuinely curious. She smiled. Said it didn’t bother her at all.

And then the conversation shifted into something much deeper. She told me she was honored I came to her. That she had a friend who went through something similar. That she respected the care I was taking. Her response was beautiful—warm, thoughtful, grounding. And then she hugged me.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a hug at work before.

Transgender at Work: Still Spiraling

Now I’m home.

It’s 7:30 p.m. The workday is over. I’m safe. I’m alone. But I’m still spiraling.

There’s this weird limbo in my chest. Like I didn’t technically come out as transgender at work, but I also kind of did? And now I can’t take it back. I keep bouncing between “You were just exploring” and “It’s too late now.”

I don’t feel courageous. I feel like I might throw up.

And I know—legally, ethically, practically—everything I said was protected. But that little whisper in my brain won’t stop saying, “What if they get rid of you before you even do anything? Then what?”

I needed to get this out. I needed to mark this day. Because even if I don’t transition… even if I never wear a skirt or change my email or tell another soul…

This felt like the first real step.

Have You Ever Been There?

Have you ever tried to test the waters without fully coming out? What did that moment look like for you?

Drop a comment or message me. Whether you’re still questioning or already out—your honesty matters here.