Call me Caitlyn

Bruce Jenner is now Caitlyn Jenner, and she debuted with glorious pictures taken by the legendary Annie Leibovitz.  Since I think Annie could even make me look glamorous, lucky Caitlyn to be photographed by such a talented artist.  There's been a lot of media hoopla and a lot of mean "jokes" about the transformation.  I wish people would just shut the hell up about what they don't understand and try to put themselves in someone else's high heels.

Twelve years ago, three of my high school classmates and I traveled to Las Vegas to celebrate entering the nifty fifties.  We met another classmate there, one who had undergone a major change. Our friend, and Donna's former prom date, was no longer John but Jennifer.  We were curious, but not one of us was critical.  We had always liked John, and we figured if this is who he needed to be, then we'd get used to the change and the new pronouns.

She was beautiful.  Her long brown hair was healthy and shiny.  She had a cute little figure and she looked great in a dress.  She enjoyed wearing makeup to express her femininity.  I remember thinking what a shame she had to wait to be fifty to do this. Here we were, her contemporaries, and by this age we were tired of that stuff.  Short hair was much easier to do.  Why wear dresses and pantyhose when shorts and a T-shirt were much more comfortable? Shoes? Ha! The more comfortable, the better. Jennifer loved her shiny mary janes because they made her feet look cute;  I loved my practical walking sandals because they didn't give me blisters. And makeup? Hells bells, it would only melt in the heat, so lipstick was enough for us.  Poor Jennifer, while the rest of us were glamming it up in high school, she was yearning to dress like us, be like us. She was suffering in a way entirely unimaginable to us.

When Jennifer debuted, she did not get the reception Caitlyn did.  Her family cut her off completely for years.  Her marriage did not survive.  While she needed this change to be whole, many holes grew in the form of absences from her life.  It was not an easy transition, but it was necessary for her well-being.

Our classmates in Pennsylvania were unaware of her metamorphosis because Jennifer lived in California and hadn't kept in touch.  All of that changed when a story about her journey (later developed into the documentary I Stand Corrected) was broadcast on public television.  She was definitely the talk of the town, the subject of nervous giggles and speculation, but I don't remember anybody being excessively mean or ignorant about it.  She came to our last high school reunion, and we welcomed her.  In fact, one of the guys asked her to dance, and it was sweet to see.  From what I understand, her family is coming around.  And I have to chuckle because just like the rest of us sixty year old women, Jennifer complains about fighting that inevitable battle of the bulge.  Life is back to "normal."

Nobody goes through such a transformation on a whim.  People who dismiss Caitlyn as nuts or an attention seeker just don't get it.  I get especially irritated by "celebrities" who claim they will still call her Bruce. What arrogant jerks!  Why not just be thankful that you have not lived a life of such painful confusion?  What does it hurt to be compassionate?  To be kind?  Just because you don't understand, doesn't mean you have to condemn.

Welcome to the world Caitlyn!  May the rest of your life bring you that elusive butterfly known as peace.