I Came Out as Nonbinary at Work. Here’s What Made Me Feel Safe.

Like most people, I look back at the start of the Covid pandemic and remember the seismic shifts — virtual work, mask mandates, and lockdowns altering the way we interact and live. But for me, early 2020 marks another unique moment in time, when I was out as nonbinary in my private life, while still presenting as my assigned gender at work. I woke up and went into an office where people used words to describe me that I just didn’t relate to. I was trapped in a cycle of denying myself the experience of being called the name I wanted to be called and addressed by the pronouns that described my very essence. Every single day, it chipped away at my self-worth. Prior to the pandemic, I had considered being open about my gender-fluid identity at work. As fate would have it, another person on my extended team had recently come out as nonbinary, and I feared I would be judged as a copycat if I did the same. Too often, members of the LGBTQIA+ community are belittled and ridiculed upon disclosing their sexualities or genders to people close to them. We are told we are “going through a phrase,” as if the act of coming out itself is a trend, and not a deeply personal and difficult decision that requires self-reflection and courage. The decision weighed on me. I wanted to get it right. For those of us who are gender non-confirming, it can be challenging to find the language to explain our experiences, and just as tough for other people to grasp. As a world, we’re still developing the language to describe people who exist outside the binary. The situation shifted for me in early 2020. My employer, Intuit, hosted the technology industry’s first Trans+ Summit, a forum for discussing allyship for the trans and nonbinary community. I watched the positive reaction of my co-workers, and the ways that, even those outside our LGBTQ+ employee resource group, reacted to the dialogue. The willingness of our senior leaders, managers, and allies to convene to discuss how we might improve the workplace for people like me caught me off guard. I felt safe to be myself in a way I hadn’t before. I realized that I needed to share who I was, for my own peace of mind. The virtual work environment helped. Through the screen, I felt empowered to experiment with my presentation as opposed to performing femininity. I could take myself off of video when I needed. It was like I had a curtain that I could open or close at any time. When I finally came out as nonbinary a few months after the summit, I was met with allyship. We often save these kinds of discussions for March 31, International Transgender Day of Visibility. But I think it’s important that we talk about how to build inclusive workplaces for people who don’t identify as cisgender year-round. Coming out is a process that takes some of us longer than others and, unfortunately, it’s not a privilege everyone experiences. How our colleagues and workplaces react to our truths have the ability to either reassure or deter us from this huge decision. Looking back, here are a few ways my colleagues showed the sort of allyship that made it safe for me to bring my whole self to work. I hope that by sharing these ideas, allies will rise up across organizations and make it easier for trans and nonbinary people to be seen, and seen for exactly who we are. Created a forum for open and honest dialogue. My company has hosted a Trans+ Summit for three years now, and it has a ripple effect far beyond the one day a year that we gather to chat about improving the workplace for trans+ folks. Simply by hosting and focusing on trans+ issues, it sends a clear message across the organization that we value the work experience of our trans+ employees and want to improve it. The Trans+ Summit is planned and facilitated by our trans advisory board, and the content is authentic to our lived experiences. We say it’s an “open forum” for dialogue because employees feel empowered to bring up all sorts of issues — from external bills and policies to workplace benefits — in a safe space. The summit is attended by dozens of senior leaders, who are becoming more attuned to the specific needs of the trans community. This format allows pragmatic ideas to make their way from the trans+ community up to senior-level management, who are eager and able to implement the feedback. This is a powerful feedback loop. People can and should proactively have brave conversations, but it can’t just fall on members of the LGBTQ+ community, because we’re tired, and we’re often scared. Allies can lift the burden here, by showing up and taking part in these discussion, too. You don’t need a whole summit to have open and honest dialogue; it might happen in an employee resource group meeting, or through a Slack channel dedicated to discussing these issues. In addition, companies can provide trainings or workshops where trans+ issues are either the focus, or part of the focus. As an organization, or as an individual ally, ensure whatever space you create is safe, so that your trans+ employees feel they can openly share what’s on their minds. Practiced pragmatic allyship. When I came out as nonbinary, my manager was beyond supportive. Not only did she respect my request to use the pronouns they/them, but she gave me the opportunity to write a training for our team about pronouns and the use of gender-inclusive language as a best practice. Then she went on to advocate that Intuit use the materials more broadly in a customer-facing context. In other words, my manager took it seriously, and used her position of influence to show up as an ally for the larger trans+ community. She gave me the opportunity to positively affect the customer experience of trans+ individuals that use our financial products, like QuickBooks, TurboTax, and Mint. Customer service can be a fraught experience for some trans folks, as myriad hurdles stand between trans identities and legal recognition. Teaching employees who interact with customers to avoid gendered language, how to have a conversation about pronouns, and how to solve common pain points of trans customers had a profound effect on my team. Now nearly all of them have their pronouns proudly displayed in Slack and in their email signatures. Now I have the peace of mind knowing that when a person of trans experience speaks with someone on my team, they will be treated with dignity and respect in a world that so often denies us that. Her pragmatic allyship made me feel like this part of me I had hidden away was truly valued by others. For managers or peers, wanting to be proactive, look for how you can use your allyship and position to solve greater problems within your team and company. This can take many forms; maybe it’s pushing for gender neutral restrooms, or chasing down help desk tickets for an employee’s or customer’s name change request. Or perhaps it’s voicing to your peers, “Why aren’t there more trans people in leadership positions at our company?” Listened instead of assuming. Lastly — and I believe this is something we should all strive to improve daily — whether you are an ally, a manager, or on the leadership of an organization, really listen to what people say they need. For nonbinary and transgender people, and really for anyone from a marginalized community, it can be challenging to define the truths of our existence to those less familiar with our experiences or persons. For me, being nonbinary shows up in different ways on different days, from my outward presentation to the unique challenges I face in and outside of work. The allies I’ve found most supportive are the people who are willing to listen to how I’m feeling and how I’m showing up on any given day. To become an active listener, ask people what they need without making assumptions, and then proceed accordingly. There’s not an “allyship formula” you can apply to all people (and this goes for marginalized folks outside of the LGBTQ+ community, too). Every person wants and needs something slightly different, and a true ally will not just be conscious of this, but actively listen to figure out what that is. For example, a person may come out to you and tell you their true name and pronouns, but might only want it used in certain circles. As an ally, it’s up to you to ask what they prefer rather than assuming you know the answer to that question. As humans, we tend to make a lot of assumptions. Many of these assumptions are rooted in stereotypical ideas of how the binary genders of male and female are expected to look and act, as if there is a right and wrong way to be based on sex. Sometimes the best approach to allyship involves being quiet before speaking up, listening and learning, and staying attuned to the needs of those around us. The only assumption we should be making at work is that our colleagues have value, perspective, and expertise to add to the table — and those perspectives and expertise are valuable no matter how the person they come from identifies.

I Came Out as Nonbinary at Work. Here’s What Made Me Feel Safe.

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