A Transgender Woman’s Story: From NYC’s Subway to Authenticity

Written by: Bernie Wagenblast

My coming out as a transgender woman story is both recent and ancient. I’ve known I was trans from my earliest memories.

For me, that means going back to 1960. Some very early “coming out” attempts did not end well, so I hid this important part of who I am.

The modern part of my coming out story began in 2017, when I saw an AI-generated version of what I might look like as a female. I was hit with the realization that I needed to do something about this if I was ever going to live the life I had always longed for.

At that point in my life, I had built a traditional middle-class life. I was happily married for 40+ years, a parent, and had a successful career. My transition was slow and methodical. I hoped I could do enough to satisfy that longing, but stop short of socially transitioning and all that would bring. 

These early steps included the start of HRT and a legal change away from my very male-sounding name to the unisex name I had always used. While these steps were euphoric, they fell short of what I needed. 

Making an Entrance as a Transgender Woman

In the fall of 2022, I attended an event sponsored by my support group. It was my first time going out as my true self. Like many trans folks, I was terrified of how others would see me that first time out. It turned out that it wasn’t only not bad, but it was very encouraging.

Afterward, I had to change back to my boy clothes. I felt like Cinderella, who had to return home by midnight because the magic that allowed her to become a princess would disappear.

That night, I decided that I had to socially transition. Not only would I be giving up my marriage, but I feared my very public career would come crashing down. While my name wasn’t widely known, nearly every New Yorker knew my voice.

Since 2009, I was the voice they’d been hearing in the stations of the numbered lines in the New York City subway. That voice, crafted over decades as a radio personality and voice artist, was deep and resonant. 

While I told those closest to me that I was a trans woman, the public announcement happened as 2022 was coming to a close. I carefully wrote a coming out note that I posted to social media. I let everyone know that, come January 1, 2023, I would be living my life as a woman.

After writing and re-writing the note, I came to the place where I was ready to hit send. Once that happened, everyone would know who I was. I felt as if I was on the edge of a bridge, ready to jump. Once I committed, there was no going back.

I hit “send” and waited. Almost immediately, there were responses. The feedback was 100% positive. I felt a community love I had never felt before. 

While sharing this news was difficult, an even bigger challenge lay ahead. Starting on New Year’s Day, I was going to be moving through the world as a woman. I had never cross-dressed publicly outside a few Halloween costumes decades before, so this was all uncharted territory for me. 

Navigating Unfamiliar Territory and Embracing Authenticity

I was in my mid-60s. My cis female friends had moms, sisters, and friends who helped them figure out their style. I didn’t have that and had to use trial and error to figure it out. That first day of 2023, my brother invited me to join him and two of his kids at Six Flags Great Adventure for the day. It felt like a great way to begin. I had family who supported me and a crowd who had no idea who I was. It was a perfect mix of support and anonymity. It went well. 

I got into a routine of trying things out, often with helpful advice from female friends. I was keeping a fairly low profile as I practiced. In March, a producer for the podcast “Death, Sex and Money” reached out to ask if I would consider appearing on the show. In my coming out note, I expressed the hope I could be an educator about transgender people.

I felt my years as a journalist prepared me to use my storytelling skills to share this very personal experience.

While I didn’t expect to share my story on a national platform so soon, I knew this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. The host, Anna Sale, was kind as she helped me dig down in telling my story. This was just to be the first of many interviews.

When I transitioned, I expected New York media would want to share the story during Pride Month in 2023. That turned out to be true. I also figured that come July 1, the interest would dry up, and I’d return to a life of relative quiet. 

Here I was mistaken. My story was generating national and even international interest. Major feature stories were done by The Washington Post, the Associated Press, Good Morning America, Reuters, and others. Broadcast outlets from Japan, the Netherlands, Germany, and Brazil asked for interviews. The hook of my story wasn’t really my transition.

Gender transitions had become routine enough that they didn’t generate coverage. What was unusual about mine was my voice. Millions of New Yorkers and visitors to the city were familiar with my voice. Like many voice artists, most listeners had no idea who was behind the voice. Suddenly, the person behind the voice was being exposed.

Altering One’s Voice is a Challenge for Transgender People

Since my voice played a major role in my career, I decided early on in my transition that I was going to make a special effort to create a more feminine-sounding voice. I want the voice I used to match the person I had become. At the same time, my “guy voice” continued to be a significant source of my income, and I didn’t want to lose access to it. I developed an unusual ability to switch between my two voices. 

For many trans women, creating a more female-sounding voice is one of the hardest parts of transitioning. At first, I thought I’d have an easier time than most crafting a new voice. I was used to manipulating my voice for various projects.

While most of my voice work was of the narrator/announcer type, I had occasions where I did characters. For PATCO, the transit line connecting Philadelphia and South Jersey, I was asked to play Santa, Frosty the Snowman, and the Grinch for holiday announcements. 

As I started to work with voice therapists and on my own, I realized creating a female voice was much more challenging than I anticipated. It was about more than just raising the pitch. There was a change of resonance from the chest to the head. My voice had to move more forward in my mouth. There were other things I had to do to accomplish this challenge. 

When I started, I could use the “female” voice, but I could maintain it only for a few minutes before my throat hurt. I was very self-conscious of how I sounded, so I would work on it in private. A favorite activity became narrating my car trips. “We’re now passing the library on the left and coming into downtown.” 

My voice therapists taught me exercises and techniques that helped, but I would reach a plateau and be unable to advance. A big breakthrough came from an unlikely source. I found a YouTube video by a male gamer who created a very female-sounding voice that he used while playing online games.

The technique he used was to start with a very fake “Mickey Mouse” voice and then take it down a “ladder” to reach a point where it sounded real.

The voice I use today is still very much a work in progress. Like my “guy voice,” I continue to experiment and try to improve it. 

Experiencing Gender Euphoria as a Transgender Woman

Many trans folks have a unique experience known as gender euphoria or trans joy. It happens when people see us and acknowledge us as the gender in which we see ourselves. For me, one of my biggest gender euphoric moments happens when someone I don’t know and who can’t see me calls me “ma’am” when talking with me on the phone. It’s an indication that my work is paying off.

My first year living as a woman was a year filled with new experiences. Almost every day was something I had never experienced before. A huge milestone four months into my transition was the 75th anniversary dinner for my college radio station. While attending Seton Hall University, WSOU was home.

I spent more time in the station than I did in classrooms, and the friendships created there have continued five decades later. While most people from the station knew about my transition, this would be the first time any of them would see the new me.

The nervousness I felt as I parked in the hotel lot is difficult to describe. How would my friends react? Would I be an object of curiosity, or worse? I was treated well by all those I talked with and it turned out I had nothing to worry about.

As I write this in May 2025, I look back on two and a half years filled with much happiness and pleasant memories. My biggest concerns are no longer how I will be perceived, but how our government has changed. 

Living in a Transitioning America

Before my transition, I was in the most privileged part of American society: a straight, cis, White man. Overnight, I moved into one of the most marginalized groups. Every week, it seems as if the president is signing new executive orders that make my life and the lives of my trans siblings more difficult.

When Donald Trump was first elected in 2016, I resolved that I was going to do what I could to be kinder. In 2024, I knew being kind wasn’t enough. I had to be more proactive in sharing my story and helping those who don’t know someone who is transgender better understand who we are and that we are not a threat to society. 

I still consider myself a journalist, so I don’t take political stands on controversial topics. However, I don’t view sharing my life’s experiences as a transgender woman as being political.

Last year, CBS News gave me a unique opportunity to write a letter to my 18-year-old self, letting her know that she would one day get to live the life she always dreamed of. They filmed me reading the letter. I knew people across the country would view this video. I hoped it would reach parents who have a trans kid and kids who were trying to find their identity.

My most recent major milestone took place this month. I had my gender affirmation surgery. For me, the surgery wasn’t necessary as far as dealing with my dysphoria. I now saw it as important to protect my safety in a country where I was at increased risk. The recovery process continues, but I now feel comfortable going into all-female-only spaces. 

I know there are more challenges and adventures which lie ahead. I’m fortunate to be living in an area of the country where my identity is accepted and I’m supported. Beyond the media attention I’ve received, I’ve had opportunities I never could have imagined. Last year, Lin-Manuel Miranda asked me to be part of the Warriors album he and Eisa Davis were writing.

A short film about me has won several awards, including a Clio. When I speak in New York, the audience welcomes me with applause I never could have imagined. 

The best word I can think of to describe my journey is “magical.” I am privileged to have been given these opportunities, and I hope I use this platform wisely.

Share your experiences as a transgender person in the comment section below.

Bernie Wagenblast is a seasoned transportation communicator and voiceover professional whose career began as a New York City traffic reporter for major stations like WABC and WINS. She now edits several prominent transportation newsletters and hosts industry podcasts, including ITE Talks Transportation. Her voice is widely recognized on systems like the NYC Subway, AirTrain Newark, and PATCO.