When Lexie was 8, she stumbled upon something rare for the time: a photo of a transgender American actress. That glimpse gave Lexie an image and a sense of who she was, but not necessarily the words to describe it. She tucked her secret away for over four decades, hiding it from all who knew her.
After a stint in the army, failed relationships and thoughts of ending her life, Lexie could no longer live as she was and began transitioning at age 50. The year was 1995.
“I knew who I was, but I didn’t know what to do about it,” said Lexie, of transitioning before the internet and before trans people had a shared vocabulary to describe their existence.
Her biggest supporter has been —and still is— her now-wife, Cushla. They met during Lexie’s transition years. The experience drew them closer together, rather than apart. In a twist that Lexie never saw coming, the duo had a honeymoon baby a few years later.
Lexie sees herself as privileged in that support and love for her mostly increased as she transitioned. Many other older transwomen had to turn to sex work to support themselves or drug use for comfort.
Now, the family of three, including 20-year-old Finn, are a postcard for non-traditional, non-binary families, another blessing that still eludes many trans people. It was Finn who inspired Cushla and Lexie to take up karate and be involved in archery.
Lexie finds herself in the golden hour of her life and her trans journey. It’s a story she gently shares again and again in an arena that is becoming increasingly hostile to trans people — sports.
Lexie is on the board of World Archery’s gender equity committee. At local sporting events, parents whose child might have recently come out as trans or non-binary often seek out Lexie for her advice and her journey.
She often asks them: “Do you love your child?” and they reply “Yes”.
Her advice: “Keep loving them, keep looking after them, keep supporting them and protect them from the crap that they are inevitably going to get and you are going to get as well.”