Today is Groundhog Day, as well as James Joyce’s birthday.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have a Trans- Groundhog who could help me predict whether there will be six more weeks of keeping Joyce hidden? Or maybe it’s six days? Or six months? Or six years?

The uncertainty and the unknown are the two most frightening things about transsexual transition. The anticipated rejection and subsequent pain from someone knowing about me has turned out to be much greater than the actual events. In fact, I keep waiting for rejection, guard ready to come up into a fighting stance, but it hasn’t happened. The timetable I wrote 6 months ago was obsolete 3 months ago. The timetable from 3 months ago was obsolete last month. Why? I feel a push, maybe an encouragement from others and my own psyche, to keep moving forward because it’s better than standing still or moving backwards. It’s like the slippery slope or the tipping point I’ve written about earlier, and those two metaphors seem very, very much alive right now.

I had thought about a trickle of disclosures in February, followed by a few more in March, followed by my colleagues and friends in April, then my grad students and the rest of my colleagues in May. At the rate I’m sliding down the slippery slope, I don’t know if there will be anyone to tell in May. I don’t want to be completely out without showing some external change, as I think it might seem manipulative or deceitful to those to whom I’ve come out. In other words, if everyone knows, they’re all going to expect me to act on my disclosures and start making appearances as Joyce, won’t they? But I don’t know if I’d be ready to perform Joyce in April (to pick a random date).

Where’s that pesky prognosticator, the transsexual groundhog, when you need her?