In Canada, the University of British Columbia in Vancouver hired me for a piano professorship in 2003, and in 2008 I earned tenure. After moving, I was able to marry the Japanese woman who’d been my longtime partner at a wedding before 125 family and friends.

I see signs of progress in the United States; some American insurers have recently begun to cover transgender surgery. There is less need for an exotic flight to a dangerous operating room abroad. We have emerged in numbers at last, and are no longer invisible, discardable or silent. We clamor for our civil rights and are gaining respect and understanding. My generation has done its reading, listening, learning. Times are changing. In the recent election, for the first time voters in three states approved the right to gay marriage.

In 2003 I hadn’t played as a soloist with an American orchestra in nearly five years. But when I crossed the border to Canada, I found plenty of orchestras and recital presenters who were happy to book me. The success of my performing career in Canada has helped me rebuild a reputation back home. I’ve played twice now with the San Francisco Symphony, and also with the orchestras of Buffalo, Dayton, Seattle and others. I am confident I will once again play with the elite groups in Cleveland, Los Angeles, Philadelphia and New York, earning the same good reviews that David Buechner once did. A new generation of conductors, composers, chamber players and music executives has come of age, and they don’t ignore my agent’s calls as their older colleagues once did.

My first concert appearance of 2013 was with a colleague who had not been in contact with me for 15 years. But last year he surprised my agent with a kind call, and we healed our friendships — personal and professional — on the concert stage. He enjoyed working with a pianist who was not hiding herself under layers of psychological turmoil and inappropriate clothing. I was happy to see him, and to celebrate his own growth.

I miss the New York City of my youth — egg creams and bagels, snow in Inwood Hill Park, strolls over the George Washington Bridge and up the Grand Concourse. Now I could live there with my spouse as a married couple. So I tried to purchase a co-op pied-à-terre in the Bronx this past summer. The head of the co-op board was all smiles and thrilled that I offered to play piano for the building’s Christmas party. Two days and I assume one Google search later, I was turned down by that board with no reason given — nor required by New York law. My holidays, therefore, were not spent on the East Coast of America; instead, I accepted concert engagements in Asia, in places that have been less judgmental about my gender.

One of my stops was in Thailand, for a recital and master class at Mahidol University, outside of Bangkok. The university's guesthouse was far more inviting than a hospital gurney. Instead of submitting myself to a surgeon’s hands, I did my own operating, on a nine-foot Steinway. And in the master class, a young Thai girl played a nocturne of Francis Poulenc for me, with a rapturous tone. As I helped her mold her hands into the keyboard, I thought back to the time I walked the nearby streets, so frightened I had searched for hope in the form of a baby elephant. Now I was paying back good fortune by giving the best of my heart and hands to a young musician.

At the Bangkok airport, before boarding my outbound flight, I purchased a souvenir — a little stuffed elephant. He’s sitting on my piano rack now, to remind me of where I once was — and where I am now. I pat his head from time to time, to spread some good luck to my fellow Americans who have evolved, and, I am hopeful, will continue to evolve.

Booming: Living Through the Middle Ages offers news and commentary about baby boomers, anchored by Michael Winerip. You can follow Booming via RSS here or visit nytimes.com/booming. You can reach us by e-mail at booming@nytimes.com.