Lucy Sante's memoir I Heard Her Call My Name chronicles her gender transition at age 67, weaving together a lifetime of experiences that retrospectively illuminate her journey toward authentic self-expression. The book opens with an email Sante sent to close friends in early 2021, announcing her decision to transition and live as a woman named Lucy instead of her assigned name Luc. This moment of revelation came after using the FaceTune app to alter selfies to appear more feminine—seeing herself as a woman for the first time became the catalyst that projected her into coming out with remarkable speed over just ten days.

Born in Belgium to a working-class family, Sante's early life was marked by transatlantic migration and cultural displacement. Her father worked in an iron foundry while her fiercely Catholic mother, shaped by World War II trauma, struggled with the family's moves between Belgium and America throughout the 1950s and 1960s. The haunting presence of Marie-Luce, a stillborn sister who died before Lucy's birth, created a complex family mythology, with Lucy's mother frequently using feminine nicknames that retrospectively seem to recognize Lucy's true gender identity long before Lucy herself could articulate it.

Growing up as the only immigrant child in homogenous New Jersey, Lucy faced linguistic barriers and bullying while navigating between cultures. Her childhood was notably ungenderded—her father refused to teach trade skills hoping for upward mobility, while her mother couldn't teach domestic skills due to her own insecurities. At age eleven, Lucy began secretly arranging her face in mirrors to appear feminine and wearing her mother's clothing, developing fantasies about moving away to live as a woman.

Lucy's teenage years were marked by escalating conflict with her authoritarian yet over-affectionate mother, who despised the secular culture Lucy was drawn to. Despite being expelled from the elite Jesuit school Regis for skipping classes to explore New York City, Lucy received a full scholarship to Columbia University in 1972. College opened up new worlds—she embraced New York's creative chaos, formed artistic friendships, and began experimenting with gender presentation with help from friends like Barbara. During this period, she also began extensive drug use that would continue for decades as a form of self-medication for unresolved gender dysphoria.

The memoir details Lucy's bohemian lifestyle in 1970s-80s Lower East Side New York, surrounded by artists who would later achieve recognition while she struggled with creative direction and output. Her relationship with Eva Pierrakos, a woman she met in Paris and loved deeply, was complicated by sexual difficulties stemming from her unresolved gender identity. Eva's non-monogamous approach led to a painful dynamic where Lucy accepted unsatisfactory relationship terms because she couldn't offer her complete authentic self.

Lucy's substance use escalated into what she called the major drug years beginning in 1980, involving cocaine and heroin that left her incapacitated for half of each day. Paradoxically, this period coincided with professional advancement at the New York Review of Books, where she worked as Barbara Epstein's secretary—a role she later found significant for placing her in a female-dominated professional environment.

The memoir explores how Lucy's various relationships were corroded by her inability to live authentically. Her marriage to Eva's former roommate exemplifies this pattern—a relationship born from manipulation and maintained despite obvious incompatibility due to her insecurity and self-denial. Her later partnership with Mimi, whom she met in an online chat room, becomes central to her transition story, as coming out threatens their romantic compatibility while revealing the deep intimacy possible when someone truly knows and accepts you.

Lucy's transition process involves multiple stages of revelation and retreat, including a second email she writes but never sends, backtracking on her announcement due to fears about its impact on her relationship with Mimi. Her eventual commitment to transitioning leads to overwhelmingly positive responses from friends and colleagues at Bard College, though she grapples with questions about professional disclosure and the social implications of moving from a privileged male identity to a marginalized female one.

Technology plays a crucial role in Lucy's journey—online trans communities provide education and representation that had been absent throughout her life, while digital spaces offer connection across generational and geographic boundaries. Her relationship with Leor, a young trans woman at Bard who becomes her trans mother, demonstrates the importance of chosen family and community mentorship.

The memoir concludes with Lucy's recognition that transitioning is a lifelong journey, acknowledging that while she has become authentically herself, she will also inevitably serve as a reference point for others navigating similar transformations. Her story reveals how individual authenticity emerges within and despite historical, familial, and social constraints, while contributing to the broader cultural evolution that makes such transformations increasingly possible.