AutumnThank you for these explanations.
I am glad you have a therapist who can give her professional input. Take care of yourself through your grief, if it feels too hard to compose columns about someone you knew personally, then let it be, until you have some time to heal.

Penner and DetransitionI understand the need to talk about detransitioning and the stigma those face who do so, but right now, right here, only a day after Mike’s death?  We can make all the assumptions we want about all the reasons that led to his death, but why don’t we give that a rest and continue to at least respect Penner for who he was as a person instead of so quickly using this as a springboard for a controversial and often hot topic?  
I’m not against talking about the bravery many must face, from the attacks from people in our own community no less, when they decide that for whatever reason transition wasn’t right or the right time for them.  But let’s at least properly memorialize Penner’s greatness as a wonderful person and as a great writer first.

Real Life Experience / Real Life Test

So, back to our impetus — is Mike Penner detransitioning from Christine Daniels because he’s under external pressures, or is it because he figured out during his RLE that his gender identity really wasn’t female? Honestly, I have a guess, but I have no real idea.

And I doubt we’ll ever know.
Why is it important? Because we’ve lost a friend. Because we’re trying to understand. But most of all, so we can learn lessons, so tragedies like this happen less often.
From the Standards of care:

Change of gender role and presentation can be an important factor in employment discrimination, divorce, marital problems, and the restriction or loss of visitation rights with children. These represent external reality issues that must be confronted for success in the new gender presentation.
…
Some begin the real-life experience and decide that this often imagined life direction is not in their best interest. Professionals sometimes construe the real-life experience as the real-life test of the ultimate diagnosis. If patients prosper in the preferred gender, they are confirmed as “transsexual,” but if they decided against continuing, they “must not have been.” This reasoning is a confusion of the forces that enable successful adaptation with the presence of a gender identity disorder. The real-life experience tests the person’s resolve, the capacity to function in the preferred gender, and the adequacy of social, economic, and psychological supports.

A test of resolve. A test of support networks. A test that shows, not whether someone has got gender dysphoria or not, but whether they have the ability to take the only cure known for it: the trial by fire known as Transition.
Could you lose everything, and I do mean everything that you hold dear? To be disowned by parents, to be forbidden from any future contact with your children? To have a happy marriage decades long destroyed? To lose your livelihood, become permanently unemployed and unemployable, living on your wits and sheer indomitability? To face the hatred, the assaults, the rapes, to become a pariah not just to society at large, but to many in the GLB(t) community too? To be the subject of ridicule and abuse, to be completely misunderstood and misconstrued even by those making their best attempts to understand?
Can you as a woman deal with the body hair, and the facial hair, and the relics of “testosterone poisoning” that mean that, if you’re lucky, you’ll merely look plain, and if not,  a Freak and a Pervert to all around you?
To have deeply religious parents crying in anguish, Why couldn’t you just have been Gay?. Think about that, all you GLB people who have had similar heart-rending experiences of parental rejection. That Trans is to Gay what Gay is to Straight when it comes to persecution.
You may not have to endure all of that – though perhaps half do. Some are luckier than others. But everyone has to be psychologically prepared for it.
Some manage to lose almost nothing, to keep their jobs, to at least have access to their children even if there is a divorce…. but it can only take one rape, one assault, even one rejection by someone you love to cause your world to collapse.
And if it is too hard, if the price is one you can’t endure… where do you go from there?
You can never return to your position of cis-privilege, not completely. You can try, severing all contacts with anything to do with gender dysphoria, trying to “put this all behind you”, consigning both communications of support and condemnation to the bit-bucket. Knowing that it never works, that the only therapy that has ever succeeded is closed to you. To go it alone.
Or you can regroup, re-think, and either try again after more years of preparation, or try to find another way, living androgenously, some kind of compromise.
Not everyone who doesn’t complete the RLE is like this. Some genuinely find out that they’re equally gender dysphoric in either male or female roles. Or more so in the new one than the old. Usually though that’s determined when HRT commences, before the RLE.
All of the above is from my own observation of those around me, rather than personal experience. My transition was as anomalous as my metabolism, but no matter, this isn’t about me. I know some who only succeeded on their third attempt. I know some whose RLE is now into its 5th year, who can function adequately even if they never get surgery. It’s not absolutely necessary for everyone, and not only is it costly, it’s not risk-free. Some die on the table, but far more end up never walking again, having permanent colostomies, or just a dysfunctional and insensate genital mess due to  inexperienced surgeons. They account for the majority of cases of “transsexual regret”.
In the meantime, we’ve lost a friend. And we search for lessons to be learnt so we don’t lose another one under the same circumstances. I’m not sure there are any here: if someone cuts off all contact with those who can understand where they’re coming from, if an attempt at complete denial is made… there’s not a lot we can do. Just prepare ourselves for the worst, and hope our fears are groundless.  

I found Autumn’s post to be completely respectful, sympathetic and educational.I was horrified at the news of Penner’s apparent suicide — and extremely confused, as I was after he detransitioned.  I just spent an hour reading Autumn’s post and following numerous links and now I have a greater understanding and an even greater sorrow.  If Penner’s passing isn’t the time to discuss these issues and answer these questions, when is?  I won’t say it gives “meaning” to his passing, but it gives greater understanding and understanding is a first step toward acceptance, support and love.  And what could be better — or a more proper memorial — than that?

And the Psychologists out there….Will immediately recognise that it’s a Displacement Activity too, to hide our grief from ourselves. Because we bleed inside each others wounds.

Lay down, lay down, lay it all down
Let your white birds smile up
At the ones who stand and frown
Lay down, lay it down, lay it all down
Let your white birds smile up
At the ones who stand and frown
we were so close there was no room
we bled inside each others wounds
we all had caught the same disease
and we all sang the songs of peace
some came to sing, some came to pray
some came to keep the dark away
so raise the candles high
cause if you don’t we could stay
black against the sky
oh oh raise them higher again
and if you do we could stay dry against the rain

I was never much good at singing. Worse at praying. So I’m doing my best to keep the dark away, and to let my white birds smile up at the ones who stand and frown. It hurts less when I do.
It’s also useful, and may help others. A twofer.

I knew you’d come through Autumn — Thanks!This is very important information that must be disgested calmly and carefully. Transitioning is a complex process.  

Everyone grieves in their own way…and all ways are OKI didn’t want my post to seem critical of Autumn’s writings over this tragic death.
I just want Autumn to do what’s best for her. The rest can wait.

On Mike Penner / Christine Daniels30 November 2009
About two weeks ago I was the subject of a New York Times profile, published in connection with an important piano recital I gave on November 11 in New York City. I had transitioned from David Buechner to Sara Davis Buechner in 1998, and my life since then was the focus of writer Mike Winerip’s article. I’d like to add that Mr. Winerip struck me as a very fine writer, an extremely nice (straight) man, and that one of his motives in writing about me was to applaud the younger American generation’s healthier sexual attitudes, acceptance and inclusiveness.
In many ways I do agree with his thesis, and my own story mirrors some of that. In some ways I disagree as well, and readers of that profile will note it was in Canada and not the USA that my life improved immeasurably in terms of being able to marry, obtain a job appropriate to my skills, and to gain a daily healthy lifestyle — by which I mean simple things like holding my spouse’s hand while walking anywhere in the city of Vancouver without a second thought (I don’t do this in New York except for the Village). I can’t say that I feel as though I owe the United States too many thanks for helping me out over the years.
I’m joining this blog discussion from the standpoint of still answering about 200+ e-mails, primarily from folks of the LGBT community who contacted me to tell me that my story gave them hope and inspiration. I was very touched by the words I’ve read about me here on this website, too — thanks very much (I am very grateful for a site like this people can find REAL information, sensitivity and insight). Acting as a role model is a new experience for me. I am used to playing the piano in front of people, enjoying music together, bowing to applause and greeting people afterwards for a few kind words. But I’ve pretty much left discussion of my TG experience on the back burner for a number of years. I’ve not addressed it much. Mostly that’s from the good fortune of living in a country where it doesn’t seem to matter (I think that trickles down from the government establishing equal marriage for all, by the way).
Anyway, I’ve been in a very positive frame of mind for the past few weeks, until yesterday reading about Mike Penner / Christine Daniels. That story hit me like a ton of bricks. And I felt suddenly that I wanted, even needed, to say something about it, and that’s why I’m writing.
I read the story on the LA Times website, but also online from the NY Daily News and NY Post — all accompanied by comments by posters ranging from sympathetic to rampantly hateful.
Suddenly I’m not in a very positive frame of mind anymore.
I never knew Mike/Christine, and I’m referring to him/her dually here — as I never do otherwise — because I’ve not seen it clearly articulated yet what his/her final wishes on the subject of chosen gender were. Please correct me as may need be; of course I am sensitive to correct address and I want to do the right thing, properly and respectfully.
I see Mike/Christine as an accomplished person in the media field — it’s not really the arts but a close cousin in journalism — making the change publicly in midstream. Not in a famous Today Show entertainment business way as with Chaz Bono, but well-known enough in a chosen professional field, and that’s why it seems very similar to my own tale.
In the midst of my transition ca. 1997-98 I remember well going to support groups and meeting people addicted to drugs, drink, people selling their bodies for sustenance. I had never met people like that before. “There but for the grace of God go I,” I often said to myself, even as paying my own rent and making ends meet became tough. Out of loneliness mostly I did a few marginal activities in the darkness of the Manhattan downtown too. At least I always had a bed, a roof, and some food. Yet I too would sometimes drink for days on end, or wildly swallow every pill in the medicine cabinet, or just sink into profound depression for days on end. It’s hard to transition, just plain hard. Hard when young, hard when old, hard when poor, hard when rich, hard whatever color or station, wherever, whenever. And of course, even after living as Sara for a year or two or even three, there were times when I thought: “shit, life was easier before, even if I was miserable. Who needs this?”
And worst of all, I remember how embarrassed I felt. Embarrassed that, at age 40, I didn’t look like 20 for sure, and nobody’s pin-up. My boobs weren’t great, my nose and chin are still too damn big, my first vagina was a mess (second operation fixed it mostly). Embarrassed by my fucking voice (I still get “sir” on the phone all the time but I don’t give a damn and I’m not getting my vocal cords sliced up). Embarrassed by the looks of all my old male friends whose eyes and attitude told me: I know you’re really just turned on wearing panties and a bra, you cross-dressed cocksucking pervert. Embarrassed and ashamed by ex-lovers (hated), ex-friends (lost), ex-employers (fired), ex-family (gone). People called my poor parents to tell them how sorry they felt for them. I was often embarrassed just walking down the street and riding the subway. The looks, the comments, the constant sense of condemnation. “There but for the grace of God go I,” I sensed some people thinking. Fair enough, maybe, a good lesson in judgement for me.
In Japan, it’s called “losing face,” and it’s understood that you SHOULD off yourself if your face is lost.
It’s absolutely true that none of us should make any pronouncements about Mike/Christine. I have no knowledge of his/her individual situation, or what caused the suicide. It may have been wholly non-gender related. Of course, in my gut, I doubt that — because I have been there, and done that. And I can say from experience, I know how close it was, how just a bad day or two, a few words from someone who was once a friend or family, can make a difference. In terms of making a decision and taking action that cannot be re-thought.
And I guess my main thought today is — let’s shelve some of that NY Times self-congratulatory “Look how far we’ve come talk” for a while. Just read those ugly comments on the websites. Look how far we need to go, to get past a society where there is such pontificational opinion, such condemnation, such busybodyness about others. To the point of hatred and violence. To where we are mocked and maimed and killed for walking on the street. To where we can’t hold hands with loved ones, out of fear. To where intelligent and accomplished people like Mike/Christine have to endure so much to be true to their heart. You know, in a better world, that news of change would and should have been just a big nothing — no news at all. “Oh, Mike is now Christine. And how’s her column about the Dodgers today?” Or “Christine is back to Mike now. What’s he got to say about the Lakers?”
We need to aim for the day that we really can embrace the fullness of our humanity and celebrate the kaleidoscopic ways in which we are made. I pray it comes in my lifetime. But as I said, I don’t feel very positive about it today. Nonetheless, I’ll be stubborn and choose to celebrate the life of Mike and Christine as one of incredible courage and accomplishment. What a proud and beautiful human being.
Sara Davis Buechner
Osaka, Japan

Writers write.I say that as a writer.
It’s what we do.  Sometimes poorly, sometimes amazingly, always according to our ability at that moment and our way at that time, and a writer’s eye is a funny thing.
Writers that are silent are not writers. And there is never a good time or a bad time to do it. For a writer, there is only the act of writing, the expression, the interplay of ink and paper or digits on keyboard or pencil on whatever surface you can scrounge when it strikes.
And for writers, the only thing that really can do them justice, the thing that has the greatest meaning, the thing that truly recognizes them and their lives is, well…
Writing.
I keep missing my chance to sit with you, Lori, and perhaps one day we’ll get that chance.
Until then, I’ll remember that you, too, are a writer
And one I like to read.
Toni

Spot onand well said.  From another conversation I’ve had, Christine’s detransition and resumption of her mask are the direct cause of her suicide.

Very well said (n/t).

Going BackI know several transgender people who have transitioned or started transition and went back.  One realized that he was not really transgender. Two others were not ready. One had too many problems as herself but is living in the physical body she was born with while dealing with the world.  
One of the things t-people are slowly coming to grips with is transitioning is more than just hormone shots and clothes. I opined several years ago that one can just as well transition without the medical and exterior changes as with.  It is peer pressure from the t-community trying to set standards that many cannot or will not adhere to.  I had people tell me I was not a true transsexual because I do not use a false voice. Or that I was not a transsexual because I have not had surgery; or it was because I wore a dress; or because I wear shorts flip-flops and tanktops.  
There are so many pressures on us from every side it is a wonder we all don’t go off and do things.  In the military one training class was about how to handle being captured and the techniques that would be used on us.  The U.S. military had finally acknowledged that we all have a cracking point – and that if we hit it we would not suffer a penalty for talking.  It was important to know that because it removed the fear of our own government hurting us if we were traded or rescued.  Too bad we cannot get out the word to many t-people that we can avoid the cracking point and there are many of us ready and willing to help.
I cried and am crying today for losing Mike and Chrisine.  Today I was OK until I started deleting e-mail addresses and phone numbers from my address books. I have had to remove contact information too often.

Don’t worry about the phoneI get “ma’am” all the time on the phone. I get it from people who have already established that they’re talking to someone named John.
The only time I ever snapped at anyone is when he persisted in calling me ma’am after getting corrected twice. “Uh, no, I’m a man.”
Oddly enough, I’m not a tenor. When I hear my own voice recorded, I don’t think I sound the slightest bit (stereotypically) feminine.
So, why does it happen? I don’t know.
Conversely, I have an aunt who has a deep voice for a woman. She gets called “sir” all the time.

Thank, ToniThanks, Toni.  I’m still waiting for the day we get our own two hour long IHOP food and chat too

A better time? I don’t disagree that there is a need to talk about the emotional impact of transition (or detransition) on a person’s life.  I simply cannot understand how one’s great successes in life get trumped by their struggles, and so quickly within the passing.  I would hope that if I accidentally drove into a concrete barrier my family and friends wouldn’t eulogize my sad and horrible driving record but the positive things I did in their lives.
So when IS a good time to talk about this?  How about every single day as a part of “cause,” speaking of suicide and reaching out to those very people whom we know as friends yet are so very clearly hurting.  
I didn’t know Mike.  May my eyes be opened as a result of this to look a little more closely at the emotional well-being of those in my circle of friends.

AgreedThank you for the stories and the information. It helped get me out of my insular “but what about me?” rant I’ve been having lately. Excellent resources!
My voice dropped in college and I get “sir” all the time. Throw in my ambiguous nickname (Alex) and my penchant for ties and you’ve got a whole mess.