“It’s here early,” I thought as I slid the manila envelope out of the mailbox. An ironic statement to be sure.
I hurried back home, stopping only to pass my partner and flash the envelope to her as I went for the letter opener. She exclaimed with a smile, and gave me a kiss.
Moments later, the envelope was opened, and its contents carefully extracted. I held the embossed page to my chest, as a wave of joy — and relief — spread through me. I found myself tearing up, thinking of this moment and all it took to be.
What was this piece of paper that caused such elation? Inside the envelope was a copy of my California marriage certificate, dated some 32 years ago. Unlike the day it was issued, however, it now lists two brides, and one of those two is named Gwendolyn Ann Smith.
It was a lovely wedding, surrounded by about 100 friends and family members — and several unrelated onlookers — at a local Renaissance festival. At the time, I was only out as transgender to one person in attendance, and they stood alongside me as we wed in a quiet glade.
Three years later, I would begin my transition in earnest, my partner still by my side.
Now, this certificate would mark the happy conclusion of a journey that began all those years ago, for it was not only about updating our marriage certificate, but it also marks the very last document in a seemingly never-ending process to get my name and gender updated on all of my identity documents.
Now back when I began transition, changing one’s name was a simple process in my home state of California. You could do it back then by simply getting a notarized document declaring your new name, then simply using it. That name change was good enough to allow you to update your Social Security card, and get your driver’s license updated.
It could not, however, change your gender marker, which required a much longer process. That required a court date, some expensive paperwork, and publishing your intention in a local newspaper for a week or two.
At the time, I decided that I could just do this all later. A piece of paper didn’t define me and, besides, who even looks at a birth certificate?
I was later able to get my driver’s license updated in 1999 to reflect my gender, even as the first attack on marriage in California — Proposition 22, in 2000 — made for fears about our marriage ending up in a bureaucratic limbo, and the process of changing one’s name in California by usage fell by the wayside in the wake of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attack.
Proposition 8 — yet again, a law to restrict marriage to one man and one woman — then passed in 2009, further worried my partner and I opted to pause on updating my birth certificate to reflect my name and gender. This would change with the decision in Obergefell v. Hodges, striking down the ban in California — but money was tight then, and starting the process seemed insurmountable yet again.
Then came November 2016, and Donald J Trump was elected president. I realized then that I had best get this all in order, and started with my United States passport. That process finally concluded just after Trump’s inauguration, just under the wire.
I took advantage of changes under Obama — not yet changed — to get my Social Security card updated to reflect my gender. I started to work on my school transcripts, taking advantage of another recent change in California law to get my high school records updated. I went through the more complex REAL ID process to get my driver’s license again updated.
Also, I went back and forth with the county court, reading through document changes and delays to finally get a judge to sign off on a court order declaring my name and gender to be the ones I had been living in for the past near-30 years. It then took months to get the new certificate from the state — and then, just days before this writing, to get our new marriage certificate.
Still, I felt joy, clothing this final document change, knowing that one of the happiest days of my life now reflected the reality of who I am, and the reality of our marriage. I felt relieved that this 30-year process was finally done, and I had no more documents that needed an update to reflect, legally, who I am.
Just in time for yet another election, and yet again another chance for Donald J. Trump to potentially ascend to office and upend, well, everything — but I digress.
That it took me three decades, give or take, is not all that uncommon. As I’ve shared my story, I’ve been surprised to find many of my contemporaries who are still waiting for this or that document, or having been able to get all they need in order, or — in some case — find they cannot update some documents due to the laws in the states they were born. It’s an onerous process, and the current anti-trans animus is making it impossible for many.
I hope you’ll think of this the next time someone goes on a rant about how easy trans people have it when we transition in order to, I don’t know, win at women’s sport or some such.
Look at all this, and just try to tell me that we transition on a lark.
Gwendolyn Ann Smith will now do something easier, like ride a pogo stick to the Moon. You’ll find her at www.gwensmith.com.
