When I came out, I was a late bloomer. I was a teen in the 70’s, and … I never even considered telling anyone. Even in my 50’s, I wasn’t telling psychiatric practitioners. Along the way, only one close friend, who was extremely broad-minded, was let in on the secret. One Friday evening in 2018, when I was 59, it came to me like a gentle revelation as I watched a trans-related YouTuber. I was going to do it. I don’t live anywhere near family, but have a large contingent of friendly coworkers. I started slow, with very subtle nail color, and pierced my ears after a couple of months. I also started wearing women’s scents. All the changes were welcomed, and even cheered on, by the people at work. In the first year, I started laser hair removal on my face, and almost on the year anniversary, started hormone therapy. Shortly thereafter, I told my managers at work. The next winter, I ventured to work the first time en femme, in black slacks and an attractive top.. I was up to skirts in less than a week. And for Valentine’s day, I left Hershey’s kisses with “It’s a girl” stickers on the bottom, with a nice card for the entire staff. Very well-received. I have been so fortunate! Out and obvious before the lockdown. And this September … I had “the surgery.” I knew from the beginning I’d want that. I got there. (F/64/Lesbian)