As the alarm rings in the bedroom, I wake up to my wife, Brennan, soothingly. She stands up tall and plops down in front of the lighted mirror to apply foundation, mascara, and a bold red lip. For the past eight months she has worked from home, free of the button-up and tie required in the office. She has shaved her beard, grown out her hair, and chosen clothing that is affirming and empowering as she explores her gender identity during her isolation.

Brennan began hormone replacement therapy a few weeks before Covid-19 segregation began in our state this spring. She was still traveling, attending meetings at our New York headquarters during the week, and a week before her 30th birthday, she breathed a sigh of relief that she would be spending more time alone. She got used to the change in her body and tried out a new look. She was grateful that the pressure to fit in with society's gender norms was not an issue at home. She didn't have to fear rejection as she had when she was leading face-to-face meetings as a cybersecurity executive at a growing company. For the first time in her life, my wife is living without the expectations of others. This has allowed my wife to be very aware of who she is. [Jeffrey Cohen, a clinical psychologist at Columbia University Medical Center who sees transgender patients and has led virtual therapy groups for LGBTQ+ people during the pandemic, says. He says the impact of the pandemic on queer people depends on the people who surround them, both physically and virtually.

The virtual world is easier to control. My wife has become more authentic on Twitter and has built a support network and some sense of community among trans people and allies in cyberspace. My wife turns off the camera during work and videoconferences and makes phone calls instead. Physically, it is just the two of us and the children at home, and we don't see many other people in the neighborhood. When Brennan goes outdoors, he keeps his distance or retreats inside the house.

Masks are notoriously uncomfortable, itchy, and ill-fitting, but my wife clings to hers as a security blanket, protecting her from threats beyond Covid-19. The black stubble around her chin makes her afraid to be seen in public, but the mask covers that area and eases her anxiety. It gives her "passing privilege" - the experience of being perceived as cisgender. Trans people should not feel pressured to "pass," but it creates a layer of safety that she would not have had without this new social norm. According to the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey, a study conducted by the National Center for Transgender Equality (NCTE), a social justice advocacy organization, which examined the experiences of transgender people in the United States over the last year, approximately three one-third had been treated unfairly in public. One in five avoid neighborhood facilities such as gyms, stores, entertainment venues, public transportation, and medical centers for fear of abuse; 59% avoid restrooms for the same reason; and one in five avoid public places of worship for fear of being abused.

My wife is fine at home, but her isolation from society has created new challenges. Before the pandemic, Brennan had been gradually sharing her gender identity with friends, family, and colleagues, gradually introducing feminine aspects of her voice, walk, mannerisms, and style, hoping that her circle would be able to adjust to the change over time. Now that her body curves have developed and she is expressing herself more openly, she fears it will be an uncomfortable big reveal, but she intends to keep others informed.

My wife wants to share her news with her boss, but is still unsure how best to talk about the topic; the two have not met since March and communicate mostly by text. My wife would have preferred to speak with me in person, but that is not possible right now, and I don't think email or texting is the appropriate way to present such intimate information. I fear that a video call would be awkward for her and shocking for others.

According to the American Transgender Survey, approximately one in four gender non-conforming individuals experience discrimination in the workplace. Seventy-seven percent of employed respondents have taken steps to avoid problematic workplace encounters, including hiding or delaying their gender transition and quitting their jobs. Until a very recent Supreme Court decision, it was legal to fire someone for being a sexual or gender minority in the United States. Despite the legal protections achieved, he says, trans and gender non-conforming people, especially blacks, indigenous people, and people of color, experience invalidation and oppression at both the institutional and interpersonal levels, creating stress and increasing the risk of negative mental health effects.

Segregation is a departure from a society that his wife has treated as a respite for her own mental health. For her, finding the right words and platform to come out now is the hardest part, but this is not true of everyone. During the early months of her incarceration, her wife struggled to obtain medication, and others in the trans community had to cancel surgeries and delay important appointments. Courts and businesses were closed, and many were unable to book gender-affirming services such as medical consultations, electrolysis, and identity changes. Without the stable support of family and community members, people are navigating increasingly marginalized hardships as they search for work, food, shelter, and medical care. According to the Human Rights Campaign, the number of homicides against trans and gender non-conforming people reached a record high in 2020, showing how dangerous it is to come out and live an authentic life, whether or not one is segregated.

Coming out is a vulnerable process, and Cohen explains that the support individuals receive affects whether they choose to share or keep their queer identity a secret. No one has the right to know information about our identity, and it is each individual's choice to decide what information they want to share and with whom. There is no right or wrong answer to coming out or being out." Brennan finds it much more difficult to come out to people who knew her before her transition than to share her rightness with new friends she finds online. She says, "When someone knows you specifically, it's awkward to show a different you and makes it harder to adjust relationships. She adds, "Some people's close friendships and family relationships have changed since coming out in the last few months. I am very afraid of experiencing the same tensions with my boss and colleagues. I need this job."