Around 30 years ago I was working in a UK government department. I announced my plans to transition and within an hour was being marched out of my place of work under guard.

I never saw the inside of that office in Whitehall again, my security clearance was taken away and I was no longer considered a person of fine character.

I was permitted a much lower level of clearance to work elsewhere in the same industry, but I was under such heavy restrictions it became untenable. They’d already outed me against my wishes and now required me to prove my surgical status before they’d allow me to work anywhere else within that sector.

This week I celebrate 25 years working for IBM. It took me 24 years to come out to my manager. Why? I’m trans.

I joined IBM swearing no one would ever again know my trans history. I’d been beaten down by the attitudes of society. This was the UK before the Equality Act and Gender Recognition Act, and I genuinely feared for my job if my trans history was known.

I now realize IBM was a much more progressive company even then, but my views had been badly tarnished by the attitudes of friends and family. When I came out to my par-ents, their reaction had been extreme: I couldn’t reason with my mother through the screaming and crying and my father simply threw me out. My parents died never seeing post-transition me; my father took his promise to never again mention me to his grave.

Any hopes of coming out at IBM were initially dashed when I witnessed a transition at a client site. The poor woman had a rough time at the hands of colleagues, but I got to wi ness what went on behind her back. The level of transphobia was shocking; I was power-less to do anything as I felt unable to out myself.

My position at IBM is now legally protected, but IBM was ahead of the game by many years when it added gender identity and expression to the list of protected characteristics in its diversity and inclusion policy.

Despite this, it took the death of my father for me to re-evaluate my life and consider com-ing out. Having been forbidden from attending my mother’s funeral by my father, for fear of bringing shame on the family, at my father’s funeral I instead stood proud of who I was, and received nothing but love from the rest of my family.

I live an authentic life. I have a loving boyfriend who knows my trans history, but loves me for the woman I’ve always been. There’s really no need to out myself; my trans history is largely irrelevant in my daily life.

Others are not so lucky though. The treatment I received from my parents and the bullying I had at school are still commonplace.

Trans people attract extreme reactions from some parts of society. Daily I see opinions published by folks who think themselves gender experts, denouncing trans people. These people just stoke the fires of hatred in the rest of society – they know nothing of the real lives of the gender variant. I feel a need to educate.

Having my trans history hidden is frustrating as I am truly proud of who I am and what I’ve achieved, but it can have its lighter moments. For example I once told an IBM colleague how a female friend at another company was removed as project leader because the client objected to having a woman in charge. I suggested that if she’d worked for IBM they would have replaced her with another woman. He said: ‘No. Better than that, replace her with a woman who used to be a man!’ Funny as that was, said to my face, I hadn’t told him my friend was an equally stealthy trans woman.

I’m now out in the IBM LGBT support network EAGLE, and their reaction has been amaz-ing. That’s not to say there haven’t been learning opportunities as I’m the first openly trans member of the group, but they are so encouraging and willing to give my words a bit of a signal boost.

My coming out in the rest of the company has been slow but steady. My management line all know, and have been very generous in allowing me time for the various diversity activi-ties I’m now engaged with. Coming out to my colleagues is a strictly one to one affair as opportunities to educate arise. Say the word ‘ladyboy’ in IBM and you might get a surprise education session from your colleague!

Anne has asked her full name to be withheld. The article is part of a series for Coming Out Day on 11 October and ahead of Spirit Day on 17 October.