10/17/17
Today, at therapy, we talked a lot about how my conversation with Jill went and how proud I felt in that moment to experience so much acceptance and support. It truly makes me proud to have a friend like her, and to have had her react in such a positive way to me being trans. My therapist loved hearing about every detail of how that went down, and I loved telling it, because I got to relive a moment of euphoria...A moment of happiness from me deciding to tell someone important to me that Iām trans. We spoke a lot about relationships and how deeply I take words.Ā Being a writer, it totally makes sense that words have been and still are, my most important love language.Ā Talking with her about love languages was great, because I see more and more how much it makes sense as to why my relationships all turn out the way they do... And itās because words are everything to me...but acts of service fall quickly behind that, and so if youāre telling me one thing and doing another, Iām not happy. I need consistency. We went back to the Jill conversation a lot because in the hour and half phone call we had, we touched upon a little bit of everything in the nicest way. I told her how nice it was to have someone that can relate and guide me through the process of possibly having an unaccepting family.Ā I got emotional when I explained to her though, that I donāt think my family will disown me. Itās hard to explain, but there is so much love in my family and I know it and I feel it.Ā There would never be anything that would make my family cut me off, ever.Ā And I know this, but this doesnāt make it any less scary. Because thereās disappointment and thereās anger, and thereās confusion. There are so many things that they will FEEL and Iāll be able to tell. I will be able to see it all over their faces when they look at me. And although their responses will be natural, thinking about what they are thinking gives me anxiety. I feel like Iāve done a lot to make my parents proud. Iāve always set out to please them, but your 20ā²s are fucking hard. And your 20ā²s are filled with so much uncertainty...so much expectation of finding yourself after 18 years of being told what to do, who to respect, what is expected of you. Itās insane to think about how much goes into finding yourself and Iāve taken the steps toĀ ātransitioningā without even realizing what Iām doing. Cutting my hair, dressing more and more like a guy...Iāve gotten my feet wet, and now Iāve hit a wall, where I can no longer do any more transitioning to get to where I need to be until I meet with a doctor...until I take T...until I have Top surgery.. And thatās a big source of why I canāt attain the happiness I always search for.Ā I try my best, but Iām not happy in the body I live in. Thatās the problem. Thatās the little thing thatās always been missing.Ā Iām nervous to take away the daughter my mom wanted, but to be truthful, I was never there. I came out to her every time I screamed about wearing a dress. I came out to her every time I begged her to bring me to get sweatpants and sports shirts. I came out to her every time I played sports with the boys or played with my brothers tonka trucks. I came out to her when I told her I bought my first real pair of mens jeans when I was a freshman in college. I came out to her when I became the masculine women in all my relationships. I came out to her when I cut my hair. And I came out to her when I saidĀ āI guessā when she asked me if I felt like a girl when I was back home visiting my family... And now, I need to come out again. I need to come out with the words, Iām trans. And though Iāve watched her face soften every time Iāve taken small steps, I know this one is bigger and badder, and more permanent.Ā This is the one that will officially admit the loss her daughter, and the transition to the third son she never got to accept growing up. And my dad loses his little girl. My dad canāt say heās proud of his sweet girl. My dad and I lose a father-daughter connection that Iāve loved having.... I mean donāt we? Does me becoming a man all of a sudden change the way he gets to love me? Iām unsure.Ā But I know this life I live is my own and my therapist told me the one thing parents want more than anything for their children is for them to be happy. But I told her parents also have fear....and my parents have always made it known that they want to protect me from the bad in the word. And I told her Iām busy protecting myself, that I donāt need the pressure of knowing they want to protect me from the words of other people and the actions of those who hate the LGBTQ community.Ā I donāt need them to fear, I just want them to want me to be happy.Ā I want them to be happy because Iām happy, and I want to leave out all the rest. Because that fear, can be mine, and mine only. And I donāt want it to be theirs. That disappointment Iām sure they will feel, I hope, is something that fades into happiness that Iām now my most authentic self. And slowly and surely Iām getting to a point where I will be ready to tell my family... Maybe soon, maybe not, but talking has really helped. Telling the people who matter as friends has really helped. Making this blog has helped. Buying queer books has helped. Wearing a chest binder has helped. Having people play with different pronouns has helped. Being called handsome has helped.Ā And Iām so blessed to feel all this pride because it encourages me and solidifies the idea that I am in fact trans...and Iām just nervous as all hell to accept it.Ā No, Iām nervous as hell, to take away from my parents what theyāve always wanted, and never got.Ā But transitioning to a man takes away the facade of the daughter they had, makes me into the man Iām meant to be, but turns their daughter into this unknown stranger of a man.... A man they never got to raise properly. A man they never got to love. A man they never taught how to shave or pee standing up. A man they never got to meet, until now. A man they suddenly need to love as a son. A person, they will feel they failed, because I was raised as the wrong gender. But Iām thankful for that.Ā I know so much about women, because I was one. I know how to respect a lady, I know how to love a women, in ways that men who were birthed as men will never understand. And thatās the beauty in the mind of transgender individuals. Thatās the beauty in being raised without gender roles. And the beauty in somehow knowing, even as a young, innocent little girl, that I was never meant to do my hair up, or wear make-up, or play with barbies. It was far beyond a tomboy, I was a boy, and didnāt know how to articulate that into words. But my actions showed it. I love my therapist and it actually makes me really sad that we will be done together come December.Ā But I am so god damn proud of the steps Iām making and the revelation Iām making about myself that now all seem to piece together and make sense. Today was a good day. This guy is pretty fucking proud of the man Iām becoming.Ā
