Two years ago at the CAMH Gender Clinic

“I have the perfect name. What do you think about Dawn?”

“It’s a very nice name, but it’s not clearly gendered.”

“What do you mean?”

“If someone hears it, over the phone, for example, the name doesn’t tell them your gender. Based on my experience, it’s easier if your name clearly signifies your gender.”

Fast Forward to Today

I was steered away from Dawn, but I didn’t find a satisfying alternative. I didn’t feel comfortable picking a name for myself, so I went nameless for a bit.

I settled on Dee because people, in particular sensitive members of my family, could use D. if they felt more comfortable with it, and it would sound the same.

Regrettably, I forgot about Maxine’s advice to choose a clearly gendered name. I ended up having conversations like this:

“Dean?”

“No! Dee”

“umm, like… just the letter ‘d?’”

“No–like dee double ee!”

“Oh. huh. ok.”

Dean plagued me for months. I grew terrified of the phone itself, because it was the instrument of my being called Dean. Being called a NEW male name that doesn’t even have any claims on me is worse than being told I’ll “always be Derek” (which I don’t mind TOO much). It’s being told “you sound like a man to me.”

I’ve even been called Dean face-to-face. This shocked me, because although you could tell I was trans, you certainly wouldn’t have guessed that I identified as a man. So when I’d say “Dee” to someone, and they’d say “Dean?” back, with an ingratiating smile, I’d lose my mind. I left my brother’s welcome home party over being called Dean.

Before long, I was opening my phone calls like this: “yes, hi, I’ve changed my name and my gender. My new name is Dee . No–not Dean–D-E-E. Yes. And please don’t call me sir. If you could see me, you would know that sir is completely wrong, but you can’t.

“Uh, ok. Does that resolve the issue you’re calling about?”

“No–you called me about my outstanding balance!”

The Dean days are over, I think. Just recently, since the start of this calendar year, people have started to gender me female over the phone.

Goodbye Dean, you superfluous masculine identity. For a while, I worried I might be saddled with you always. I am glad to see you go. Your nasal final consonant borders on silence, and screws up my life.  May I never hear the sound of your name again!