CREATIVE NON-FICTION

I am a Transgender Woman and I Joined the LPGA

A tale of acceptance and existing

I have always been drawn to sports. I like to participate. Winning at something is nice, but I am ok with losing, too. I just really want to give my best effort. When I decided to transition, I had so many worries. There were too many to list. You can imagine the thoughts that went through my mind. None of them were happy thoughts. One worry was that I would not be able to play sports anymore. I am too strong for the girls, and not strong enough for the men. Those two things are true in many sports. Recreational tennis and golf are two exceptions that I have found.

The transgender athlete conundrum

I began my transition late, so I have gone through male puberty. I also played sports and had physical jobs. The net result is that I was tall, muscular, and strong. After three years on cross-sex hormones, I have lost a great deal of strength, but I am still tall and muscular. The size of my biceps has changed very little. I have not lost enough strength to level the playing field against women.

Then, I realized I could play golf with women. Golf is a sport where my strength does not translate into better scores. I was out-driven and out-played in general by all three of my golf mates. I had the longest drive once. I was super nervous, as you can imagine.

I am at a point in my transition where I pass about half of the time. I have no way of knowing how often I pass. I do get called “ma’am” and “she” everywhere I go. I chock that up to politeness. You cannot believe your friends, because they love you and will lie to you to spare your feelings. Public perception is the only meter that I have to gauge how I am presenting. I am close. It has been my goal, and it continues to be my goal, to live life as a woman.

I don’t need to be a beautiful woman. We can’t all be prom queens. I have put a great deal of effort into presenting myself outwardly as I am internally. Based on the positive feedback, I think I am doing pretty good. I love getting compliments on my clothes or makeup. It is hilarious to me that I now know that women don’t get all dressed up for the male gaze. I had heard that, but now I am living it. I am not looking for a date, but I do like to be seen.

Invading women’s spaces

I have tried to avoid invading anywhere. I generally prefer to be invited into a space. Heck, I feel uncomfortable in my best friend’s house. I found a local women’s golf group on Meetup.

I sent a message to the organizer telling her that I am transgender. I am all about disclosure. I am very open about my transness, for now. That is a sticky wicket indeed. I imagine at some point I will feel like it is private and asking about my transness would be uncomfortable.

I discovered after I was accepted into the group, that the LPGA is transgender inclusive, for women. There was a lawsuit and the LPGA changed its rules. So basically they forced my big sister to play with me, potentially. I don’t want be a Social Justice Warrior. If I am not wanted somewhere, I will beat a hasty retreat.

Pam, the organizer said that I could join their group. When I read the message, I was over the moon happy. I was also terrified. The thing that I have always wanted was going to happen. As a requirement of the league, I joined the LPGA, that is the Ladies Professional Golf Association. Ladies. I think calling someone a lady is outdated and uncool. However, I am thrilled to be in a ladies organization. I am not invading the LPGA. I joined them. I share their goals and objectives. I am a member of the LPGA. Wow.

Of course, I obsessed about every detail leading up to the event. I got very little sleep running endless scenarios through my mind. I told all of my friends that I was going to be golfing with cis women. My friends are amazing and gave me so much positive feedback. I want to shout out to all of the folks in the Transpire Discord Chat Room. Those folks are the best. I could not be calmed down though.

This singular event was the culmination of all I have worked for over the last three and a half years. I made up a word to describe my emotional state: terricited. Would they like me? Would I fit in? Would I be good enough? Would I be too good? You get the picture.

I had a ton of worries that were beyond my control. I had to focus on the things that I could control. I play a bunch of tennis, so I had a bunch of skirts and tops. I have some old lady shorts and collared shirts, but they make me feel masculine. I chose a longer skirt, and a half-sleeve top. Not frumpy and not trashy.

I just payed the last payment on my golf clubs, so they are newer. Women’s Wilson. Mid-cost, not Ping, but not some other cheap brand. I have golf shoes, and a glove for my left hand. This is my first new golf gear ever. I used to have hand-me-down clubs, along with my only pair of shoes.

I did not walk uphill in the snow to school every day, but I never spent money from the family budget on myself. I look the part of a middle-aged golfing woman. I went to the driving range to polish my skills. I crushed it. I am the best practice player imaginable. I was ready.

Game day

The Meetup page showed four RSVP’s, including me. It was going to be an intimate golf outing. I had never played the course where the event was to be held. I tried looking up the course, but I grew bored. It’s golf; grip it and rip it. I don’t care if it doglegs right or left. I can’t see well that far anyway. I did put it into google maps.

I had to work in the morning, so I was a bit rushed getting ready for the biggest event of my transition. I had to do body maintenance and get my makeup done. Just a little makeup. Most women either don’t wear any makeup or wear very little makeup in these situations. I need a little to help my confidence. I chose the no makeup look. I like to change my nail colors to match my outfit. I was acceptably cute to leave the house.

I get really nervous when meeting new people. This event was no different. I got there and the place was packed. So much for an intimate golf outing. I steeled myself, checked my makeup, grabbed my clubs, and went in to pay. I stood in line on display for all of the world to see.

I was no longer scared. I was just there to hang out with women and play golf. This was my first time at the course and my first time with the group, which turned out to be twenty-four women. I was wandering around aimlessly.

Pam was on the lookout for a new trans woman joining the group. She said “Kitty?” There was a vocal inflection that led me to believe she was not 100% certain that I was that trans girl. She was so sweet. She showed me how to get range balls out of the machine. Here’s a tip, put a basket under the output tube. She saved me that embarrassment.

Terricited. Do you remember that emotion? I know enough about group golf to know that no one rides alone in the cart. I did not want to be the girl without a seat when the music stopped. I made eye contact with a woman and asked her if she had a cart mate. She did not and agreed to let me ride with her. I am very grateful for that. It was a mad house and there were middle aged women everywhere.

I had told my friends in a not-so-joking manner that I was going to play golf with a group of white women. As it turned out, there were about eight Black women in the group. The woman I asked to let me join her was a very nice Black woman. This freaking outing just keeps getting better. Golf is making some progress!

I remind you now that I am a really good practice player. This was the real thing. I was overwhelmed to say the least because there were so many of us. We all started on different holes. I was spared the first tee. There are always people watching at the first tee. That is stressful. The three women I played with that day can play. They are very consistent. I was oddly relieved that they were better than me.

I was able to par two holes that the others did not. I also lost two golf balls. That is not that bad, but they were better. That eliminates one of the worries that I have. Transgender women in sports is a hot button issue right now. I have zero desire to compete in any LPGA amateur event. I don’t ever want to have that conversation. If I win, then it will be because I was born wrong. No good can come from that conversation for me. I just want to play golf as a woman with women.

I cannot speak to whether I passed to these three women or not, but I can tell you that it never came up. I am thrilled that they either couldn’t tell, or were very polite. It was wonderful. We talked about our grandchildren and our children. I just met these women, so the dynamic was more formal. I will be looking for a golf buddy to make it easier to find a ride or perhaps bond with. They went out to dinner after golf, but I had a tennis commitment and was unable to join them. I look forward to joining them next time.

I have frequently thought that my transition is some sort of Truman Show. That was the movie where if anything was asked for or needed, it appeared. I have had the easiest transition imaginable. I live in a very progressive town. I get my medication for free from a wonderful clinic. I have managed to hold on to my family. I have been able to afford the substantial costs associated with transition.

I realize that many folks are suffering and I feel some sort of survivor’s guilt. It has just been so wonderful to become what I once believed was impossible. I am Kitty, an older average looking woman. I belong to a woman’s group. I am not invading. I am just living. I am not a threat to anyone.