Letter To My Mom

[Michael Christopher]

I know its a bit long, you dont have to read it if you dont want to lol but this is the letter that I wrote to my mother, It was the second time that I came out to her.

Dear Mom,

I am writing this letter to you to help you understand who I am as a human being. There are things about me that I have wanted to tell you, and share with you for a very long time. Now I have told you this once before, and I made many mistakes. I didn’t tell you the way I should have, and I didn’t provide you with any information or even talk to you about it. This time it is going to be different. I am not afraid anymore. The reason I have wanted to tell you this is because I can no longer live the life that I have been living. I owe it to myself and to my future, as well as others around me. I pray that after you read this letter you will still love me as much as you do now, and I pray that you will not judge who I am as a person. I am telling you this because not only do I want my mother to be a part of my life I need my mother to be a part of my life. I want to be able to live openly and honestly to myself, knowing that my mother still loves, and respects me just as much as I love and respect her. I am more than willing to bet that you are already guessing what I am going to tell you, and I am willing to bet that you are most likely right. Mom, I am transgender. I am not a woman, I am not female. I am a man.

Mom, I have gone my whole entire life living as something that I am most certainly not. I as a young (what I was called) "girl" everything on the inside of me was right, perfect in fact. The only reason everything on the inside was right, was because I thought like boy. Yet everything around me, everything on the outside was horribly wrong. I was surrounded by pink, barbies, and dollies...all things that I could not bear to look at never mind play with. I wanted footballs, play guns and to play with all the other boys. At first, when I was young I had no say in what I wore like any other girl I was put in cute little pink dresses and such. And I hated every second of it, it made me cringe. As I got older I had somewhat of a say in what I played with I never wanted to play with girls ever, to me they were yucky and had cooties...I was always playing football or army with the boys that was normal for me. I thought like a little boy. Things continued to stay like that, I didn’t take much interest in what girls were doing, I was not really even sure how girls acted or what they played with I had no interest in it. Now this is a story that you know all too well. Remember that day when I was 5 and I had a soccer game, but I forgot to take my earrings out? I am sure you do, we tell it all the time. Well when you were taking them out, and that little boy walked by and said “mom Crystal’s a girl” I know you thought it was funny, cute and innocent, but on the inside it made me cry, it made me confused. I really was not sure what he meant by that. I mean I knew that there were girls and I knew that there were boys, but I thought I was a boy, I considered myself to be one, I acted like one, and I played with them all the time. This is when everything started to progress. When I was younger I didn’t know there was really that much of a difference between girls and boys, so I considered myself a boy...that’s how I thought it worked. You were what you thought you were, boy was I so wrong. It tore me apart when I found out the difference. My whole world came crashing down, it made no sense and I hated every second of it. Inside I knew that I was not a girl, I never was and I never will be is what I would tell myself. As I grew I didn’t care what society wanted me to be..(for the most part) I continued to play with boys and play sports...around 9 I started asking you for boys clothes...because I knew I had a say in what I wore...I remember you threw a fit but eventually you gave in, I could tell that you wanted me to be happy. I am pretty sure you can remember what happened when I was 10, for you it was a good moment and for me, it only tore my world down once again, and it only made me hate my body even more. At this point I had hit puberty. It made me scream on the inside, this was not supposed to be happening to me, at points it literally made me want to die, it was so horrifying. It didn’t make sense and only confused me even more. If I have the mentality of a boy, why was this happening? I would have given everything and anything to just make it stop. I remember when you out and told me that it was normal for girls my age for that to happen...I didn’t want it to be normal I didn’t want it I told her that and you said there was nothing that you could do about it every woman got it...well what you didn’t understand was that I AM NOT SAPOSED TO BE A WOMAN! From this point on I am sure that you remember what it was like to live with me. I wore guys clothes. I acted like a guy and all my friends were guys. I wanted to be one of the guys. When I was about 15 I came out to you as a lesbian, at first you hated the thought of it, and you thought it was just a stage. My liking of girls was not just a stage. It was there and it wasn’t going away. It was so hard for me to even come out to you as a lesbian. I knew that it was going to disappoint you and that was the last thing that I wanted to do. I try my hardest to never let you down, and I know sometimes I do. So I did not want to let you down yet again, so I hid it from myself and from everyone around me, I just wanted to make you happy, I wanted you to be proud of me. And I still want you to be proud of me, you are my only mother, and no one can replace you. You have been my support and my rock for as long as I can remember, granted we had out fights and such but you have always been there for me when I have needed you the most, you have been there to pick me up off the ground and you have been there for me to catch me when I fall. I love you more than anything and I just want you to be proud of me.

Here I sit in front of you, letting you into a part of me that I don’t fully understand. I can not really explain to you why I feel this way. The only thing I can do is explain to you how I feel. One simple way for me to put it is, every morning when I wake up I hate my body, its like the devil to me, I hate everything about it, it is not supposed to look this way, I am not supposed to have a chest. I can also explain to you that regardless of past experiences in my life, like Jeff, it has not effected me towards this decision, I know you think it has but I can promise you that I have felt this way for as far back as I can remember. I know that you said that you wanted me to get therapy before I made any big decisions, well mom I have been in therapy. I just never got the courage to tell you, I have been talking with a gender therapist since I got to school. I know this is who I am, I am your son Michael Christopher.

Mom, my journey of life is just beginning, I want you to be a part of it, I need you to be a part of it. My life is just beginning. You may be worried that I will change, but I am always going to be your child, always. I will always love you just the same and nothing can ever change that. I want to make you proud mom, I don’t want to disappoint you anymore. I also want to be happy, I know who I am, I know who I want to be, and I know that this is going to make me happy. Now, I pray that you will take my hand on this journey of new beginnings and stick beside me. I love you more than anything in this world.

I hope that you can treat me as your son, Michael Christopher, and I pray that you will accept me for who I am.

I love you,

Love your son,

after she read this she cried, in the middle of a restraunt.

[JJ]

Wonderful letter-and I understand why your mom cried in the middle of the restaurant but then what happened??

[Michael Christopher]

should have said that too huh John?? lol

well after she read it she looked at me cried and told me that i could never dissapoint her and that she will support me in no matter what i do. She said that after reading the letter everything made sense to her that she could look back and see that it all made sense.

my father on the other hand didnt take it too well.