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COMING OUT or: (My) Parents (Pretty Much) Just (do) Understand


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This is the third in a Series of reports of the past 6 months of my transitioning.

So, after those 2 days in early October 2019 of presenting my true self in a row [University & Concert], what happened on the 3rd day? On the phone, I came out to my parents!!! I truly cannot recall much of it, save the shaking & inability to breathe! Bizarrely, they had called me—something that never occurs unless it’s my birthday (or an emergency, Goddess forbid); thus, I chose to interpret this as kismet. I’d been planning on coming-out the next week, but ok! I wish I could make this more interesting with details, but I can only remember looking anxiously at my coming-out letter on my pc for reminders as I was talking to them. Now, I say them; but effectively it was Mom that I literally conversed with. Dad was there listening via speakerphone; but he didn’t say anything at that time. I just made sure to say I’ve lived this. I am living this. I came out to y’all as a gay man. I hadn’t lived it. Then I came out as a bisexual man. Well, I hadn’t lived that either…really. Nor in either case did I do so later. That’s why I waited to tell you both that I’m a transwoman. Cos I’ve known for a year; I’ve dressed in private. I’ve dressed in public. I’m on HRT. I’m out to Ruthie. I’m out to everyone at university. This is it. I’ve worked so hard since 15 to figure out what was wrong, what the problem truly was. THIS IS IT! I was born a woman in, so to speak, the “wrong” body. And that’s ok. And I’ve never been happier or prouder or more joyous as I work on it!

 

            When Mom said I KNOW you’ve worked on this ALL your life! I nearly lost it. Just to have that validation, was so sublime to hear. I’ve felt like a screw-up since forever; but I never settled. I kept fighting & searching cos I knew something was wrong, something was off. The clues were very few & far between, & worst of all: rare… as hen’s teeth. And always so subtle, so ambiguous. Example? Here: Even though 99% of my sexual fantasies had been involving women only, I came out as gay. Ugh! Sobbing uncontrollably in front of them. Kinda funny I know, sorry; sorta feels more than a touch embarrassing, really. But I accept it was essential to my self-understanding. I mean, at that time—15 or 16 years ago—I knew I had sexual feelings for men, I knew I had some little experience; call it: fumbling towards—not so much ecstasy as—Confusion. So why did you think/deeply want to be gay? Because as a gay man? I could be EFFEMINATE! I could be like that & no one would really question it, once they knew I was gay, you see. Still, it was a Stepping Stone, yes? To my True Self? “It's not whether you get knocked down, it's whether you get up.” –Vince Lombardi. [& yes, a transwoman just quoted the legendary football coach for whom the Super Bowl trophy is named after! & re: effeminate gay stuff, no less! Oh, Shudder!!]

 

            Later on, my folks talked to me on my birthday—my first one since coming out. Regarding Ruthie: Mom said something that always really gets to me emotionally when I think about it—& yes, I’m tearing up as I write this. She said “The most important person in your life has been Ruthie.” I mean: My Mom said that! And I said, choking-up a touch “She saved my life.” And Mom agreed: “Yes. She did!” I confess, I’ve discovered that coming out to them doesn’t stop me from being a little nervous when talking on the phone—at least at the bookends of it.

 

            You get sorta…tweaky? That someone’s gonna deadname &/or misgender you. I’ve made sure they understand that I understand mistakes will surely happen, & that’s ok. So, like my next call after coming out to them? They answer, & my Dad’s avoiding any gendered pronouns & any names, lol. Dad: “Hey!! How’re…uh...you? Doin’…?. You aw’right, there?  Yeah! Missed ya…Good to, uh…hear from ya! Been awhile…” It was cute & hilarious! But I deeply appreciate it. He’s not called me Violet yet, no; but that’ll come in time. It’s virtually always harder for fathers of transwomen, than for our mothers; & vice versa for transmen—or so I’m told. Mom, however, has called me Violet.

 

            I just called yesterday, & Dad answered with a friendly “Hey boy...”. These were always his way of answering, it must be said, i.e. force of habit. Mom did deadname me also at the beginning; however, it was when speaking to Dad & not me. The context was: It’s 30 seconds into the call & they’re quasi-frantically sorting out which phone to use for my call; his cell had only two bars & they don’t really use their landline much anymore, so whilst this was being negotiated, she spoke my deadname to him. This was at worst slightly disappointing, but quite briefly so. (We’ve only talked 3x since I came out, btw.) Anyhoodles! After we hung up so they could call back with the now-plugged-in landline, neither misgendered nor deadnamed me; the “no gender, no names” approach was clearly in-effect at that point. Further, it 70 minute call! I told them all the stuff I'm telling all of you—at least the recent stuff; & Mom & I discussed eyebrow makeup & my rapidly growing boobs : )

 

            In closing, I’m hoping/praying my Fall F. Aid is gonna be lovely & robust; if so, I’ll be seeing them in early October. Their first time meeting their daughter, Violet… And Violet’s first adventure with TSA! Will I be felt-up? Like… in a bad way? Is there a good way? Am I in danger of offending everyone?! Should I just shut-up? Yes, Violet! For once!!

 

            Anyhoodles, I’ve learned why I was felt-up by TSA back when I thought I was male (or was simply presenting that way pre-social transitioning). [This is actually true, btw!] Two words? CARGO SHORTS. TSA doesn’t like lotsa pockets! I was always rocking them, like everywhere. And every time I’d fly, I’d end-up with some burly guy in a uniform rubbing me all over. I'll confess the obvious: I didn’t mind! But I did wonder & discovered: Avoid Pockets with TSA. Unless, y’know, you’re into that sorta thing? I don’t judge, Darling. But I must warn you: he won’t call back, Honey; no matter what he says. Trust. ; )

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1 hour ago, Violet said:

She said “The most important person in your life has been Ruthie.” I mean: My Mom said that! And I said, choking-up a touch “She saved my life.” And Mom agreed: “Yes. She did!”

I like your moms attitude and understanding of the situation. And Ruthie is on a whole different level.  You’re definitely in good hands! Give Dad time with the pronouns.  My parents are not with us but my kids took a few months to get comfortable with my new name after coming out.  They did the same thing...avoiding my new name and pronouns for awhile.  The women seemed to have adjusted faster.  My son-in-laws took much longer to get there.

 

I think I missed something from a previous post of I’m out of my depth on this but what does this mean?

1 hour ago, Violet said:

I’m hoping/praying my Fall F. Aid is gonna be lovely & robust; if so, I’ll be seeing them in early October.

My wife read this post too and she was no help either. Can you clarify Fall F. Aid? It couldn’t mean ‘Fall Financial Aid’ in that context.  It’s probably obvious to everyone else but I’m stumped.

 

Anyways, another great read...looking forward to the next.

Susan R?

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Hi Susan! Thank you so much for sharing. Reading about your family experience makes me feel better about this early stage of things with my folks. And yes: Ruthie!! They broke the mold with that girl! Her determination & autonomy were & are so...effortless! Like breathing for her. Being around it spoke deeply to my True Self, encouraging me on the path towards authenticity that I knew I was on (if I'd no idea that'd mean I was a transwoman!). Finally, sorry about the lack of context on Fall F. Aid. By that phrase I mean Financial Aid for Fall 2020. I'm trying to be conservative money-wise, as I conclude my Ph. D. hopefully (surely!!) 13-16 months from now. Thus, a trip to see the folks + motel, is...a touch ticklish! Cheers Susan,  & thanks again for your kind words!   -Violet.

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