Monika: Do you think your mother would have accepted you as her daughter? And do you see yourself resembling her in any way, whether in looks, style, or even behavior?
Giselle: I wish I were more like her! She was very petite, barely five feet tall, always trim. She idolized Jacqueline Kennedy – it’s hard to understand how much the Kennedys changed the culture of Washington, DC from provincial to cosmopolitan almost overnight – and looked great in that sort of style. But I can’t pull that off. Alas.
I do like to think my parents would have accepted me – my father in particular. They were both very liberal – in the old sense – people and they raised me and my siblings to become our individual selves. My father was orphaned at an early age, at the beginning of the Great Depression, and passed around to various and strict relatives and sent to Catholic schools, which made him rebel. By contrast, we were sent to Quaker schools, which were both intellectually demanding and open-minded. We lived with my father during the last years of his life, and were always close. I also think he would have loved Beth.
Monika: I finally felt free after my transition. How about you? Was there a single moment, or maybe a series of moments, where you truly felt like you had stepped into your most authentic self?
Giselle: Truth! I still get that feeling, all the time. Some of it is little, even gritty stuff: like not having to tuck wearing yoga pants going grocery shopping. Or, after a few months or hormones, feeling my little nibs of boobs bounce as I hurried to make a traffic light. But most of all I feel it when I see myself in my wife’s eyes. It affirms that I’m now who I’m supposed to be, where I should be, doing what I’m supposed to do.
Monika: Many transgender women have a variety of experiences with hormone therapy. Looking back, how do you feel about the physical and emotional effects it’s had on you?
Giselle: I love them – among other things, for the reason I just indicated. They make you feel like a woman, for sure. I started taking progesterone maybe 18 months ago, and that’s been a qualitative change. But generally speaking, the emotional highs are higher and more frequent, the “baseline” feeling is one of deep satisfaction, but the lows can be lower.
The spread and rise in transphobia is both politically worrisome and personally frightening. And not just in the US: I am about to take what would otherwise be a dream trip to Britain – lectures and seminars at top universities among scholars I deeply admire, followed by a quick trip to Dartmoor for research and some hiking, but now I expect JK Rowling to be lurking outside every loo. It’s humiliating to ask people whom I respect whether I’ll have to walk across campus to use a toilet. It’s not that the hormones are causing the anxiety, but are no doubt exacerbating it.
To expand the discussion a bit: my assessment of the relative value of different gender-affirming surgeries has changed with experience. In retrospect, the one that’s made the biggest difference emotionally was facial feminization. Luckily, I didn’t need to have bone work done, but having a softer, rounder face made me feel a lot better and more confident.
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| "I do like to think my parents would have accepted me." |
Monika: The journey to being our true selves often comes with a heavy price, losing friends, family, and sometimes even our jobs. What was the hardest part of coming out for you, and how did you navigate it?
Giselle: I’ve talked about this a bit above. I would distinguish work-place coming out from family coming out. I got it into my head that, in regard to work, it would be better to announce my transition in advance, then go on vacation for a week or two before coming back into the office. That made sense in that it seemed to give people some advanced warning; going home on Friday as a man and coming in on Monday as a woman might be more jarring. But I’m not sure it made much difference in the long term.
Open-minded people will be, well, open-minded; when I told my then-assistant, she laughed and said, “That’s great! I’m lesbian!” Others – the institute I work at is generally center-right politically, though a haven of Never-Trumpers like me – haven’t been able to get their heads around the change. But their response has been to avoid me, not confrontational, so… whatever.
Monika: Do you remember the first time you saw a trans woman on TV or met one in real life that helped you realize, “That’s me!”?
Giselle: I don’t, really. Again, I transitioned later in life, after years of living in the closet. In the mid-2010s, as there was greater visibility, I began to have a that-could-be-me feeling, but mostly it was the inner self, which, unconsciously, had been gestating all along, emerging. Also, it was probably the androgyny of the rock stars of my teens and twenties that gave me the first inklings of what might be possible.
Monika: Many of us feel the pressure to “pass” as women, and even after surgeries, society keeps judging us. How do you personally deal with the outside world’s expectations?
Giselle: I’m comfortable with the way I look, and if I’m read as trans when I’m out, it’s something I can feel proud of. I call myself a transwoman, not a woman; I don’t need that to feel I’m legitimate. Let them judge – as long as they keep their bigotry to themselves and don’t try to deny me human rights, health care and the like.
The thing that most gets me clocked is my voice. I looked into vocal cord surgery but that seemed both uncertain of success and one surgeon indicated that some people have a hard time tuning while singing after the surgery, and that was a risk I did not care to run. I don’t know if that’s even true, or how frequently it might occur, but I was spooked.
Monika: What are your thoughts on the current situation for transgender women in your country?
Giselle: I love America, especially the idea of America as a free and equal place, even if we have always fallen short of the ideal. My work and travels made me feel even more blessed; many people on this earth live in truly horrible and violent conditions. I believed, as Lincoln did, that this country was the “last, best hope of mankind.” Donald Trump and his minions have shaken that faith; the kind of hatreds and cruelty have always been a dark lining to the America I love, and indeed the darkness of human nature.
Punching down on trans people is just shameful, the most gratuitous kind of bullying imaginable. We are so very, very few, and we ask nothing more than to live our best lives. The idea that we are a danger to others is not only false but pure malice. I only hope I live long enough to see this moment pass – and to see the oppressors get justice.
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| "I have been more lucky now in love than I could ever have imagined." |
Monika: I remember the time right after my transition, it was pure euphoria. My closet is still full of dresses and shoes that I literally bought by the dozens back then, and I must have tried on hundreds. I felt like I had to make up for all those years that were taken from me. Did you feel the same way?
Giselle: I still “suffer” from gender euphoria. But I dress much more casually with the passing years – I look at the rows of heels in my closet and my ankles start to ache! They’re still super gorgeous, but as presenting as a woman has become the rule rather than the exception, comfort counts more. Sigh.
Monika: How would you describe your personal style? Do you follow any specific fashion trends, or do you have go-to outfits that make you feel confident?
Giselle: At 72, it’s best to go for timeless classics than the fashions of the moment. As a guy, I wanted to dress like Fred Astaire or Cary Grant, now I admire the way Katherine Hepburn dressed – somewhat androgynous.
When I transitioned, I had to buy a wardrobe of work-appropriate clothes; I needed and wanted to look stylishly sober and professional, especially knowing that people would know I was trans – sexy went out the window. I do still maintain clothes to wear while playing on stage, but again, harking back to my late-60s, early-70s roots. I am comfortable in all these costumes – yoga pants and tank tops, power suits, gauzy blouses on stage – but my old clubbing dresses and heels don’t get out much.
Monika: Do you love playing around with makeup, or is it more of a “throw on the basics and go” kind of vibe for you?
Giselle: The greatest things about facial feminization – and lots of electrolysis – is not having to wear make-up. Every now and then Beth will do me up, or on those occasions where we do go to clubs or bars or galas, I’ll get out the war paint, but I’m pretty happy with plain old me.
Monika: By the way, do you like being complimented on your looks? Do you find it easy to accept compliments, or do you struggle with believing them?
Giselle: Come on – of course. I don’t get that many compliments, so I tend to believe them when I get them. Lie to me!
Monika: Did you ever feel pressure to meet a certain ideal of femininity, like I did by trying to look like the women around me?
Giselle: It’s really hard to resist that, isn’t it? As I said, my ideal was formed by the stars of the golden era of movies, but not the most glamorous ones; again, Hepburn comes to mind. That’s more complex than the traditional ideal, I think. Also, she gave off an air of insouciance and of sharp-mindedness – she carried witty dialogues with panache.
Aspiring to an ideal is not something to be ashamed of. I’ve seen Beth’s clients literally cry tears of joy when she makes them feel like the person they’ve always dreamed of being. Not to harp on the facial feminization thing, but when I look in the mirror, what I see can make me smile, feel a deep happiness.
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| "Memoirs give us shadows on the wall, not the direct object." |
Monika: What was the most surprising part of your transition, something you never expected, whether good or bad?
Giselle: I’m very, very glad I didn’t have to do this alone, which so many of us do. It’s not easy, either physically or emotionally. You need someone to talk to, to help you sort through things, to share your fears and joys. It’s also a long slog, particularly if you do a full range of surgeries; you can’t be in a hurry if you want to be sure not to make horrible mistakes. In the end, you’re your own primary care-giver, but it’s so much better to share that burden. It doesn’t take a village, but it helps to have a “transition family.”
Monika: How has love shaped your life and your journey as a transgender woman? Could you share what role love plays in your personal growth and happiness?
Giselle: For reasons I don’t know and certainly can’t articulate, I don’t think I was really able to love before I openly acknowledged I was trans. Having to lie about it wrecked my first marriage, and the fault was mostly mine. Lying is insidious, it eats away at every aspect of your life.
I have been more lucky now in love than I could ever have imagined and, as my sister would attest, I am a nicer and better person. You don’t necessarily have to love yourself to love another, but you do have to be yourself, your true self.
Monika: Many trans women are writing their memoirs these days. Have you ever thought about writing your own book, and if so, what would its central message be?
Giselle: Memoirs are tricky things, and as a writer I don’t know that I’d trust myself to be objective. Memoirs give us shadows on the wall, not the direct object. I am also wary of oversharing. But I admire your approach, seeking commonalities and differences of experience within our community. Most of the messages that I have for others have been expressed here, or in the things I have written, I am writing, or in the music I make.
Monika: Finally, what’s next for Giselle? What dreams and goals are you working toward now?
Giselle: Personally, I just want to spend as much time as I can with my wife, care for her and give her her own best life, materially, emotionally and intellectually. Practically speaking, I want to finish the series of books I’m working on; one’s out, one will be out next spring and I’m in the midst of writing the third. I hope they’ll be things that people will read for many years to come, and to help my fellow Americans better understand themselves, our country and what it is meant to be.
I have also been teaching myself the craft of music recording, and have an album’s (now there’s a term that dates me!) worth of songs which not only capture my guitar playing but tell the story of my transition. The title is “Hear Me Call My Name,” and that’s what I intend to do.
Monika: Giselle, thank you so much for sharing your journey and insights.
Giselle: Thanks for the opportunity – I do hope I did not cross the line of oversharing! I also hope you keep doing this great work of chronicling trans experience.
END OF PART 2
All photos: courtesy of Giselle Donnelly.
© 2025 - Monika Kowalska
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