Erin on Trans Identity & Intersectional Stigma

Meet Erin

Hi, I’m Erin! I’m an engineer, mother, author, leader, and lingerie model (thank you Mayana!) living in Ontario, Canada. I’m also an out and proud transgender woman.

Over my career, I’ve spent nearly thirty years in the software industry, helping teams tame complexity and build a close working rapport together. I’ve built on everything from industrial devices to desktop computer programs to mobile apps to websites. I’ve also authored or co-authored five technical books that put technical expertise within reach for readers.

My wife and I have three children, two of whom are adults and one of whom (gulp!) is about to finish high school. Our little rainbow menagerie also includes a spoiled Labrador / Rottie mix named Jolene.

When I’m not behind a computer keyboard, you’ll find me with a bass guitar in my hands, or racewalking through Toronto’s parks, or playing tabletop board games with my family.

You’ve said your body never felt like home—what has helped you reclaim that space?

The first step toward reclamation was giving myself permission to ask the big, identity-shaking questions. “Am I trans? Who am I?” and so on.

There was so much joy and exploration in the early days, emerging from the walled garden of my old role into a wide-open meadow.

The biggest help for finding a connection to my body was hormones. I had spent so much of my life dreading my own body that I hadn’t known it was possible to live any other way.

But after three months on estrogen, my body had already started transforming from a stranger to a friend. That static noise I’d been living with all my life finally began fading away.

How does being a trans woman shape the kind of discrimination or stigma you face. (if you are comfortable maybe you can share what you’ve noticed that’s different before your transition to now if relevant)?

One of the most noticeable things I started experiencing was garden-variety misogyny. Being catcalled on the street (or called a bitch!), talked over by men in meetings, told I’m not being “rational,” and so on.

Then there’s the ever-present sense of danger that comes with being trans. Weird looks in the washroom in the early days.

The stifled and not-so-stifled mockery. The ever-present threat of violence from men.

Lawmakers passing genocidal laws to erase people like me from existence.

More recently, I experienced a much more degrading form of objectification when someone I had thought was a friend sexually assaulted me.

As much as misogyny and transphobia are an awful fact of life for me as a White trans woman, I also know that these forces impact more marginalized trans people in heavy and often deadly ways.

Working-class trans people have greater difficulty accessing life-saving medical care. Black trans women face the intersection of misogynoir with transphobia.

What do you wish cis people better understood about trans experiences beyond transition stories?

Our transitions are powerful, beautiful, and unique. But they are also only part of our lives. We are also just people. We live our lives, dream of our futures, care for our families, and so on. Our stories don’t begin and end with when we change a name or a pronoun, or if & when we undergo medical care. Our lives are full, complicated, messy, and sublime.

How can we all better show up for trans women—especially those who are also racialized?

Shut transphobia down wherever we see it! This may be in a 1:1 conversation with a neighbour, or in repeated calls & letters to our elected officials, or in the streets with a few thousand of our friends.

We may be gently helping one person find their way out of a transphobic mindset, or we may be robustly pushing back against public, systemic injustice.