#trannieboy

Just a lonely brown-eyed boy 🤷🏻‍♂️

The past few days I’ve spent writing and rewriting the infamous letter to my parents that will disclose that I am trans. I truly thought it would be easier...that the second I put my heart on paper, it would just flow, but it won’t.  I’ve written numerous first drafts, only to erase them, and then get frustrated that it doesn’t sound like it should.  How are you supposed to casually tell your parents that the woman they raised for 24 years is, in fact, no longer a woman? Like how do you do that? How do you say that in a way that doesn’t suggest they failed you? Or how do you write it in a sense that makes it seem I’m confident and okay with it all? Because I’m not. Not really.  I still have questions myself.  I don’t have all the answers...and as far as telling my parents, I don’t even know where to start. My life is going to change. For the better or for the worst, I won’t know till I already took the leap over the ledge. Whether I have my family there to catch me or not, is the biggest worry in my head.  And right now, after being in therapy and discussing my gender more openly, it feels like it’s always at the tip of my tongue when I speak to my family.  I don’t know how to go about this the right way, and not knowing the outcome of things is both something that empowers me and also scares the fuck out of me, so you can see my struggle here. In so many instances in my life, I chase after the unknown only to love the outcome of something going pleasantly unexpected. But at the same time, the journey to get there isn’t always easy one. I’ve mastered in trusting the process for the most part of my life, but, as a normal human, I can’t always be consistent with my positive thought process....and thats okay, it just makes this hard. I really want to write that letter...I really want to send it. I really want to let it be free out of my hands and into theirs, and I want to be free of this burden I feel from keeping something so big to me about myself from a family I love more than anything. Like I’ve told my therapist, I don’t think they’ll disown me. I think they’ll love me the same as they did yesterday... But it will be different, and there’s no telling in the types of reactions people have when fear and lack of education are all present in the topic. I ask myself a lot, why I need to bring this on myself.. Why do I need to add this extra thing to my life? But I’m not asking for it. I never asked to be raised a lesbian in a small ass town where no one accepted it. I never asked to grow up feeling like something was missing all the time only to grow and find that my gender lies more with male than with female.  I didn’t ask for any of this. But am I supposed to live a life knowing I will never reach full on happiness if I stay in this woman body? If I have to live forever with these boobs, knowing I’d be happier with a flat chest? I want so badly for the words to flow like they should, but they won’t come to me.  Everything sounds wrong, and awkward, and doesn’t properly convey how I feel. Maybe it’s just too much of a piece that’s too heavy, that has too many twists and turns...is too much of a story to be told. Maybe it’s something that will take 100 rough drafts to get in perfect. But it’s my story to tell. I’m just looking for the right words to tell it. Where are the words that won’t break my parents hearts? I haven’t found them yet.