I accidentally outed myself to my family.
I got a new email address at work. The address was constructed as
"first_initial"+"last_name"@"company", so,
erose@company.com. I wanted my family to have
it, so I sent an e-mail from work to my brother and my parents. Within 5
minutes, I got an reply back from my younger brother in Indianapolis.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine," he wrote. "Is there something
I should know?
Oops.
Bill Gates had automatically added my full user name to the message,
"Elaine Rose". I hadn't realized that would happen. I was busted!
Transitioning
If you've read the other articles
on this web site, you know that I am a transsexual woman who transitioned
at work as of New Years day, 2002. As the result of a merger, I was starting
at a new office with mostly new people. Everybody was just fabulous about it,
and I was happier than I had ever remembered being in my whole life.
But I was not "out" to my family yet. They live out of state, spread out
over the country: parent retired in Carson City, Nevada, older brother Bob
and younger sister Mary in Oregon, and little brother Mike in Indianapolis.
We love each other dearly and have no family feuds or problems going on, but
we had never been a close family. I talk to my parents on the phone maybe
once a month and visit them once a year, at Thanksgiving or Christmas. I
talk to the siblings maybe once a year, but get any news updates through the
"Mom telegraph". All the other relatives were left behind when the family
migrated from the East Coast in the aerospace boom of the 1960's, and
I have no contact with any of them whatsoever.
I had been anxious to share my transgender-ness with my family for some time,
but my therapist Cynthia convinced me (rightly so!) to wait a while. It
might be good for me, but it would only be hard for
them. Better to put it off as long as possible, until I was further down
the road. I suspect Cynthia has an idea of a standard sequence for things,
that from her experience usually works out best. Telling the parents
comes after hormones, when the physical changes start becoming evident.
I was not yet on hormones. (Cynthia also suggested that I postpone
transitioning at work until after I was on hormones.. but I don't always
take her advice!)
I visited my parents in Carson City for Christmas 2001. I had already
announced my transition at work, and was actually "full time" as of
getting home from work the last day before Christmas break. I was fully
prepared to share my decision with my parents at Christmas--but I was
on the fence about actually doing it. I had told Cynthia I would NOT,
and she strongly agreed. She opined that I had enough to deal with
emotionally at work, that I should NOT add on dealing with the family.
In this, it turns out she was correct, although I didn't really believe
it at the time. I thought that if the opportunity presented it self, I
would have the discussion with my parents. Barring that, I might at least
find a chance to discuss gender and transgender issues with them, to
feel out the territory and lay the groundwork for a later announcement.
I love my parents, and I like and respect them as well. I enjoy visiting
them--for about 4 hours. After that I get bored. We are not big
talkers in our family, nor do any of us lead particularly exciting lives
(other than the part I
was hesitant to bring up!), so 4 hours is plenty of time to catch up.
After that it is nothing but Jeapordy and old movies, and, ..well,
I'm sure you know the drill. Also, it feels somewhat odd sleeping again
after so many years under my parents' roof. I find myself worrying
whether I may be violating any of their house rules or customs, or
making too much noise after my Dad has gone to bed! Nevertheless,
I usually stay a couple of nights and I have to admit, we do
have some good bonding time.
Christmas Visit
As it happened, I was looking forward to this particular trip for a
completely different reason. I had been e-mailing with a nice fellow
who lives in the hills not far from Lake Tahoe. He wanted to meet
me, and I wanted to meet him. I booked a room at the Eldorado
Hotel and Casino
in Reno for Sunday night and arranged to meet him. He promised to
put together a very entertaining evening for us!
I was quite looking forward to my big date. Although I try to create the
impression on this web site that suitors are lined up deep and
wide at Lannie's door, the truth is I don't get asked out that
often. I'm not complaining. (Yes I am!) I'm sure it is mostly my
own fault for being too picky. But when I find a good
guy, I value him. This one seemed like the real thing. Single, too!
A couple of days before my trip, I got an e-mail from my beau.
So sorry, he had to cancel. His father had a stroke, and he needed
to take care of him. I wrote him a sympathetic response, but I
made a mental note to keep track of how many strokes the old man
survives. I never heard back from Mr. Right. Should I be skeptical
about his story? You tell me.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Oops.
Bill Gates had automatically added my full user name to the message,
"Elaine Rose". I hadn't realized that would happen. I was busted!
Transitioning
If you've read the other articles
on this web site, you know that I am a transsexual woman who transitioned
at work as of New Years day, 2002. As the result of a merger, I was starting
at a new office with mostly new people. Everybody was just fabulous about it,
and I was happier than I had ever remembered being in my whole life.
But I was not "out" to my family yet. They live out of state, spread out
over the country: parent retired in Carson City, Nevada, older brother Bob
and younger sister Mary in Oregon, and little brother Mike in Indianapolis.
We love each other dearly and have no family feuds or problems going on, but
we had never been a close family. I talk to my parents on the phone maybe
once a month and visit them once a year, at Thanksgiving or Christmas. I
talk to the siblings maybe once a year, but get any news updates through the
"Mom telegraph". All the other relatives were left behind when the family
migrated from the East Coast in the aerospace boom of the 1960's, and
I have no contact with any of them whatsoever.
I had been anxious to share my transgender-ness with my family for some time,
but my therapist Cynthia convinced me (rightly so!) to wait a while. It
might be good for me, but it would only be hard for
them. Better to put it off as long as possible, until I was further down
the road. I suspect Cynthia has an idea of a standard sequence for things,
that from her experience usually works out best. Telling the parents
comes after hormones, when the physical changes start becoming evident.
I was not yet on hormones. (Cynthia also suggested that I postpone
transitioning at work until after I was on hormones.. but I don't always
take her advice!)
I visited my parents in Carson City for Christmas 2001. I had already
announced my transition at work, and was actually "full time" as of
getting home from work the last day before Christmas break. I was fully
prepared to share my decision with my parents at Christmas--but I was
on the fence about actually doing it. I had told Cynthia I would NOT,
and she strongly agreed. She opined that I had enough to deal with
emotionally at work, that I should NOT add on dealing with the family.
In this, it turns out she was correct, although I didn't really believe
it at the time. I thought that if the opportunity presented it self, I
would have the discussion with my parents. Barring that, I might at least
find a chance to discuss gender and transgender issues with them, to
feel out the territory and lay the groundwork for a later announcement.
I love my parents, and I like and respect them as well. I enjoy visiting
them--for about 4 hours. After that I get bored. We are not big
talkers in our family, nor do any of us lead particularly exciting lives
(other than the part I
was hesitant to bring up!), so 4 hours is plenty of time to catch up.
After that it is nothing but Jeapordy and old movies, and, ..well,
I'm sure you know the drill. Also, it feels somewhat odd sleeping again
after so many years under my parents' roof. I find myself worrying
whether I may be violating any of their house rules or customs, or
making too much noise after my Dad has gone to bed! Nevertheless,
I usually stay a couple of nights and I have to admit, we do
have some good bonding time.
Christmas Visit
As it happened, I was looking forward to this particular trip for a
completely different reason. I had been e-mailing with a nice fellow
who lives in the hills not far from Lake Tahoe. He wanted to meet
me, and I wanted to meet him. I booked a room at the Eldorado
Hotel and Casino
in Reno for Sunday night and arranged to meet him. He promised to
put together a very entertaining evening for us!
I was quite looking forward to my big date. Although I try to create the
impression on this web site that suitors are lined up deep and
wide at Lannie's door, the truth is I don't get asked out that
often. I'm not complaining. (Yes I am!) I'm sure it is mostly my
own fault for being too picky. But when I find a good
guy, I value him. This one seemed like the real thing. Single, too!
A couple of days before my trip, I got an e-mail from my beau.
So sorry, he had to cancel. His father had a stroke, and he needed
to take care of him. I wrote him a sympathetic response, but I
made a mental note to keep track of how many strokes the old man
survives. I never heard back from Mr. Right. Should I be skeptical
about his story? You tell me.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Transitioning
If you've read the other articles
on this web site, you know that I am a transsexual woman who transitioned
at work as of New Years day, 2002. As the result of a merger, I was starting
at a new office with mostly new people. Everybody was just fabulous about it,
and I was happier than I had ever remembered being in my whole life.
But I was not "out" to my family yet. They live out of state, spread out
over the country: parent retired in Carson City, Nevada, older brother Bob
and younger sister Mary in Oregon, and little brother Mike in Indianapolis.
We love each other dearly and have no family feuds or problems going on, but
we had never been a close family. I talk to my parents on the phone maybe
once a month and visit them once a year, at Thanksgiving or Christmas. I
talk to the siblings maybe once a year, but get any news updates through the
"Mom telegraph". All the other relatives were left behind when the family
migrated from the East Coast in the aerospace boom of the 1960's, and
I have no contact with any of them whatsoever.
I had been anxious to share my transgender-ness with my family for some time,
but my therapist Cynthia convinced me (rightly so!) to wait a while. It
might be good for me, but it would only be hard for
them. Better to put it off as long as possible, until I was further down
the road. I suspect Cynthia has an idea of a standard sequence for things,
that from her experience usually works out best. Telling the parents
comes after hormones, when the physical changes start becoming evident.
I was not yet on hormones. (Cynthia also suggested that I postpone
transitioning at work until after I was on hormones.. but I don't always
take her advice!)
I visited my parents in Carson City for Christmas 2001. I had already
announced my transition at work, and was actually "full time" as of
getting home from work the last day before Christmas break. I was fully
prepared to share my decision with my parents at Christmas--but I was
on the fence about actually doing it. I had told Cynthia I would NOT,
and she strongly agreed. She opined that I had enough to deal with
emotionally at work, that I should NOT add on dealing with the family.
In this, it turns out she was correct, although I didn't really believe
it at the time. I thought that if the opportunity presented it self, I
would have the discussion with my parents. Barring that, I might at least
find a chance to discuss gender and transgender issues with them, to
feel out the territory and lay the groundwork for a later announcement.
I love my parents, and I like and respect them as well. I enjoy visiting
them--for about 4 hours. After that I get bored. We are not big
talkers in our family, nor do any of us lead particularly exciting lives
(other than the part I
was hesitant to bring up!), so 4 hours is plenty of time to catch up.
After that it is nothing but Jeapordy and old movies, and, ..well,
I'm sure you know the drill. Also, it feels somewhat odd sleeping again
after so many years under my parents' roof. I find myself worrying
whether I may be violating any of their house rules or customs, or
making too much noise after my Dad has gone to bed! Nevertheless,
I usually stay a couple of nights and I have to admit, we do
have some good bonding time.
Christmas Visit
As it happened, I was looking forward to this particular trip for a
completely different reason. I had been e-mailing with a nice fellow
who lives in the hills not far from Lake Tahoe. He wanted to meet
me, and I wanted to meet him. I booked a room at the Eldorado
Hotel and Casino
in Reno for Sunday night and arranged to meet him. He promised to
put together a very entertaining evening for us!
I was quite looking forward to my big date. Although I try to create the
impression on this web site that suitors are lined up deep and
wide at Lannie's door, the truth is I don't get asked out that
often. I'm not complaining. (Yes I am!) I'm sure it is mostly my
own fault for being too picky. But when I find a good
guy, I value him. This one seemed like the real thing. Single, too!
A couple of days before my trip, I got an e-mail from my beau.
So sorry, he had to cancel. His father had a stroke, and he needed
to take care of him. I wrote him a sympathetic response, but I
made a mental note to keep track of how many strokes the old man
survives. I never heard back from Mr. Right. Should I be skeptical
about his story? You tell me.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
But I was not "out" to my family yet. They live out of state, spread out
over the country: parent retired in Carson City, Nevada, older brother Bob
and younger sister Mary in Oregon, and little brother Mike in Indianapolis.
We love each other dearly and have no family feuds or problems going on, but
we had never been a close family. I talk to my parents on the phone maybe
once a month and visit them once a year, at Thanksgiving or Christmas. I
talk to the siblings maybe once a year, but get any news updates through the
"Mom telegraph". All the other relatives were left behind when the family
migrated from the East Coast in the aerospace boom of the 1960's, and
I have no contact with any of them whatsoever.
I had been anxious to share my transgender-ness with my family for some time,
but my therapist Cynthia convinced me (rightly so!) to wait a while. It
might be good for me, but it would only be hard for
them. Better to put it off as long as possible, until I was further down
the road. I suspect Cynthia has an idea of a standard sequence for things,
that from her experience usually works out best. Telling the parents
comes after hormones, when the physical changes start becoming evident.
I was not yet on hormones. (Cynthia also suggested that I postpone
transitioning at work until after I was on hormones.. but I don't always
take her advice!)
I visited my parents in Carson City for Christmas 2001. I had already
announced my transition at work, and was actually "full time" as of
getting home from work the last day before Christmas break. I was fully
prepared to share my decision with my parents at Christmas--but I was
on the fence about actually doing it. I had told Cynthia I would NOT,
and she strongly agreed. She opined that I had enough to deal with
emotionally at work, that I should NOT add on dealing with the family.
In this, it turns out she was correct, although I didn't really believe
it at the time. I thought that if the opportunity presented it self, I
would have the discussion with my parents. Barring that, I might at least
find a chance to discuss gender and transgender issues with them, to
feel out the territory and lay the groundwork for a later announcement.
I love my parents, and I like and respect them as well. I enjoy visiting
them--for about 4 hours. After that I get bored. We are not big
talkers in our family, nor do any of us lead particularly exciting lives
(other than the part I
was hesitant to bring up!), so 4 hours is plenty of time to catch up.
After that it is nothing but Jeapordy and old movies, and, ..well,
I'm sure you know the drill. Also, it feels somewhat odd sleeping again
after so many years under my parents' roof. I find myself worrying
whether I may be violating any of their house rules or customs, or
making too much noise after my Dad has gone to bed! Nevertheless,
I usually stay a couple of nights and I have to admit, we do
have some good bonding time.
Christmas Visit
As it happened, I was looking forward to this particular trip for a
completely different reason. I had been e-mailing with a nice fellow
who lives in the hills not far from Lake Tahoe. He wanted to meet
me, and I wanted to meet him. I booked a room at the Eldorado
Hotel and Casino
in Reno for Sunday night and arranged to meet him. He promised to
put together a very entertaining evening for us!
I was quite looking forward to my big date. Although I try to create the
impression on this web site that suitors are lined up deep and
wide at Lannie's door, the truth is I don't get asked out that
often. I'm not complaining. (Yes I am!) I'm sure it is mostly my
own fault for being too picky. But when I find a good
guy, I value him. This one seemed like the real thing. Single, too!
A couple of days before my trip, I got an e-mail from my beau.
So sorry, he had to cancel. His father had a stroke, and he needed
to take care of him. I wrote him a sympathetic response, but I
made a mental note to keep track of how many strokes the old man
survives. I never heard back from Mr. Right. Should I be skeptical
about his story? You tell me.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I visited my parents in Carson City for Christmas 2001. I had already
announced my transition at work, and was actually "full time" as of
getting home from work the last day before Christmas break. I was fully
prepared to share my decision with my parents at Christmas--but I was
on the fence about actually doing it. I had told Cynthia I would NOT,
and she strongly agreed. She opined that I had enough to deal with
emotionally at work, that I should NOT add on dealing with the family.
In this, it turns out she was correct, although I didn't really believe
it at the time. I thought that if the opportunity presented it self, I
would have the discussion with my parents. Barring that, I might at least
find a chance to discuss gender and transgender issues with them, to
feel out the territory and lay the groundwork for a later announcement.
I love my parents, and I like and respect them as well. I enjoy visiting
them--for about 4 hours. After that I get bored. We are not big
talkers in our family, nor do any of us lead particularly exciting lives
(other than the part I
was hesitant to bring up!), so 4 hours is plenty of time to catch up.
After that it is nothing but Jeapordy and old movies, and, ..well,
I'm sure you know the drill. Also, it feels somewhat odd sleeping again
after so many years under my parents' roof. I find myself worrying
whether I may be violating any of their house rules or customs, or
making too much noise after my Dad has gone to bed! Nevertheless,
I usually stay a couple of nights and I have to admit, we do
have some good bonding time.
Christmas Visit
As it happened, I was looking forward to this particular trip for a
completely different reason. I had been e-mailing with a nice fellow
who lives in the hills not far from Lake Tahoe. He wanted to meet
me, and I wanted to meet him. I booked a room at the Eldorado
Hotel and Casino
in Reno for Sunday night and arranged to meet him. He promised to
put together a very entertaining evening for us!
I was quite looking forward to my big date. Although I try to create the
impression on this web site that suitors are lined up deep and
wide at Lannie's door, the truth is I don't get asked out that
often. I'm not complaining. (Yes I am!) I'm sure it is mostly my
own fault for being too picky. But when I find a good
guy, I value him. This one seemed like the real thing. Single, too!
A couple of days before my trip, I got an e-mail from my beau.
So sorry, he had to cancel. His father had a stroke, and he needed
to take care of him. I wrote him a sympathetic response, but I
made a mental note to keep track of how many strokes the old man
survives. I never heard back from Mr. Right. Should I be skeptical
about his story? You tell me.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Christmas Visit
As it happened, I was looking forward to this particular trip for a
completely different reason. I had been e-mailing with a nice fellow
who lives in the hills not far from Lake Tahoe. He wanted to meet
me, and I wanted to meet him. I booked a room at the Eldorado
Hotel and Casino
in Reno for Sunday night and arranged to meet him. He promised to
put together a very entertaining evening for us!
I was quite looking forward to my big date. Although I try to create the
impression on this web site that suitors are lined up deep and
wide at Lannie's door, the truth is I don't get asked out that
often. I'm not complaining. (Yes I am!) I'm sure it is mostly my
own fault for being too picky. But when I find a good
guy, I value him. This one seemed like the real thing. Single, too!
A couple of days before my trip, I got an e-mail from my beau.
So sorry, he had to cancel. His father had a stroke, and he needed
to take care of him. I wrote him a sympathetic response, but I
made a mental note to keep track of how many strokes the old man
survives. I never heard back from Mr. Right. Should I be skeptical
about his story? You tell me.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I was quite looking forward to my big date. Although I try to create the
impression on this web site that suitors are lined up deep and
wide at Lannie's door, the truth is I don't get asked out that
often. I'm not complaining. (Yes I am!) I'm sure it is mostly my
own fault for being too picky. But when I find a good
guy, I value him. This one seemed like the real thing. Single, too!
A couple of days before my trip, I got an e-mail from my beau.
So sorry, he had to cancel. His father had a stroke, and he needed
to take care of him. I wrote him a sympathetic response, but I
made a mental note to keep track of how many strokes the old man
survives. I never heard back from Mr. Right. Should I be skeptical
about his story? You tell me.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I stayed over Sunday night in Reno anyway. I ate in a buffet and
walked around the casinos of The Biggest Little City in the World. It
was fucking cold! I got read at least once: I heard a young gal who
passed me in a casino stage whisper to her guy, "That's a man!" I
just smiled to myself, because I know in my heart that she was wrong.
Later I sat in a bar
(not drinking--Lannie is dry these days)
under the big mining rig in the Silver Legacy and listened
to the piano player pound out some hot boogie-woogie. I didn't get
picked up, but a nice young man came over and gave me an ugly
little stuffed mouse he had won at Circus Circus, saying, "You look
like you can use a friend." I was touched. I thought of replying,
"You look like you could use a blow job!" But I'm not like that.
The next day was Christmas Eve. I put on boy clothes and no makeup,
and went down to my parent's house in Carson City. As I walked in
the door, they noticed that I had lost a lot of weight and gained
silver studs in both my ears. My mom asked, "Can you wear those
at work?" "Sure I can," I laughed. That was about it. I never saw
any particular opportunity to break my news, or any good reason to
do so. We caught up on family news, opened a few presents, and had a
loving but very low key time. The next day, Christmas, I drove
back to San Jose. I have not worn boy clothes since. (Okay, it's only
been a month. But still!)
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Busted!
Fast forward to the end of January. Friday, January 25 to be exact.
"Your e-mail said it came from Elaine,"
my brother wrote. "Is there something I should know?"
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I laughed out loud. How often have you heard somebody ask,
"Is there something I should know?" ..and the answer is ALWAYS, "No!"
Finally, here was a case where the answer was a solid, "YES!" I wasn't
worried about telling my brother, but I immediately realized that my
parents would be receiving the same message--maybe they had already
received it! Oh goddess, what to do? It was already a busy day. I
was juggling several balls at work, and I was trying to get away from
work early to head up to San Francisco to help set up the Design Center
for TGSF Cotillion, which was the next night. I hadn't even packed
for Cotillion yet. I really needed something like this to deal with
right then.
I decided to try calling my brother right away. I found a deserted
conference room and phoned his work. It was about lunch hour in
Indiana, but hopefully I could catch him in. He runs a credit union's
IS department, so he doesn't get away from his desk much. Mike picked
up the phone on the first ring, and recognized my voice immediately.
(I have an extremely distinctive phone voice, high-pitched and squeaky.
It was a curse for much of my life, but now I realize it is a
tremendous blessing, because it's femme! I've always gotten "Ma'am'd"
on the phone; in fact, that's one of the things that first inspired
me to take cross-dressing more seriously.)
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I told Mike, "There IS something you should know." I reminded him that
we had both suffered from depression all our lives. I said that I
had discovered a root cause of my depression, and I had started to fix
it. I certainly hoped his depression didn't have the same
root cause! (..since he had just recently got married and his first
child will be arriving in
April.) I told him I was transsexual, and that I had been living full-time
as a woman since New Years.
Mike took the news calmly. He was very surprised. But if that was
what made me happy, then he was happy for me. (I hear that a lot--and
I always appreciate it deeply.) He would need some time
to think about it. I gave him this
url for a web site where he could
see some pictures of the new me.
(Not this web site,
but a "G"-rated site I had set up in anticipation of this day.)
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
But Mike is very soft-spoken and low key. In fact, my entire family is like that.
As a child, I saw very little emotion expressed between my parents, neither
love nor fighting. Us kids were "noisy little Indians" as they used to say
in those days, but we were always being told to quiet down. When we cried, we
were told to stop crying. Especially the boys, because "men don't cry". When I
was married, my wife felt tortured by my lack of emotional sensitivity. And the
worse it got, the more I dealt with it by withdrawing. All the women in the
family suffered from getting the silent treatment from their men. I worked
some of this out when I did couples and individual therapy when my marriage
broke up (12 years ago) so I can recognize some of it going on, but I am
still working on it. Surely this somewhat explains why it took me so long
to realize I am transsexual!
So even though my brother took my surprise calmly, that may not mean much.
He may not be capable of any other reaction.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Nevertheless, I felt pretty good after talking with Mike for about a half an hour. He
seemed to be okay with it. I wondered what he would think of my picutres.
..Now For The Parents
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I debated what to do about my parents. Maybe they wouldn't notice the name
in the e-mail? Maybe I could make up a story like, "The company's e-mail
system must have messed up." But I didn't want to. I wanted to share my
story with my parents, and here was the perfect opportunity. Well, maybe
not the perfect opportunity, but a decent excuse anyway. Besides, I was
confident they would be okay with it, like Mike had been. They were
very tolerant people. Growing up, my siblings had put them through the
wringer and they came through everything like champs. My sister's teenage
abortion and out-of-wedlock mixed-race child. My big brother's brushes
with the law, semi-honorable discharge from the army, drug problems,
divorce, and recent bout with Hepititis-C. My younger brother's
depression and suicide attempt. Except for my own divorce and drinking
a bit more than they though prudent, I was the golden child. And they
do love me, I am confident of that.
I decided to make a pre-emptive strike. I went back into the
conference room and phoned them. No answer! They weren't home.
What to do now?
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I did some more work until lunch time. I went home for lunch, and
called them again. This time they were home.
"Eddy, it's you! Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
"Yes, Mom, everything is fine. In fact, it's great! Is Dad there too?
I'd like to talk to both of you."
"He's picking up the other line now." I heard the line click. My Dad
greeted me, "Hi, Eddy, how's it going?"
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I said, "Fine, fine, everything's fine. Listen, did you guys happen
to get an e-mail from me this morning?"
"No, Honey, we didn't get anything from you."
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
"Well, good," I said, "because there's something I want to tell you about
before you see it in the e-mail." I launched in to the speech I had
prepared for this purpose back at Christmas time.
I don't remember exactly what I said on the phone at the time. But here is
how I had written it out in my prepared letter, so it went something like this:
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I think you know that I have been a pretty unhappy person most of my life.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to build a good life:
I got a good education, I worked hard and built a good career,
I got married, I bought a house. Most importantly, I tried to be a
good and fair person. I was pretty successful at all of this, I think.
But somehow it left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and, according to Dr. ____'s
diagnosis, clinically depressed. Eventually my relationships fell apart,
I didn't develop any interests, and I didn't have any close friends.
I lost all my motivation in life. I did nothing but work, watch TV,
and drink. I didn't see any way out of my rut. Something was wrong with
me or my life, and I couldn't figure out what. In fact, I realize now
that there was something different about me all along, even as a child.
I remember one time Dad told me that he always felt he had been unable
to develop the kind of bond with me that he had with Bob, sharing
stuff like sports and cars and what not. I believe this all ties into
what I am about to tell you.
For some time now, but mainly over the last year, I have discovered and
been exploring a part of my personality that I had never realized existed.
It turns out I have a very strong feminine side. Since I have been
bringing this femimine side out, I have found a great deal of joy in
my life. I have found parts of myself that I really like. I have met
a lot of new friends. I've been going out. I've gotten interested in
my health. I stopped drinking. I've even been finding some spirituality,
and have gone to church a few times.
At about this point, my mother stopped me. "Honey," she said, "I know
where this is leading. When you were here at Christmas, I noticed there
was something different about you. I even told your sister how much you had
changed, that you looked very happy, and healthy, and had lost a lot
of weight. I told here I knew something was going on with you. So I know
what you're telling us now."
"Uh.. okay, then, what exactly is it, Mom?" I asked.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I knew what was coming, and you know it too. She said, "You're going to
tell us you are homosexual."
"Well, uh, no, Mom, that's not it," I mumbled. "It's sort of in
that direction, I guess, but that's not it. When I say I have a strong
feminine side, I mean that I am transsexual. In fact, I have been
living as a woman since the beginning of the year."
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
They were surprised, of course. But they seemed to take it pretty well.
They said they were confident I thought this through carefully, and
knew what I was doing. They didn't know much about transsexuality, and
they couldn't say they were happy about it, but they would support me.
They were just worried that I was making a poor choice, and that my
life would be very difficult. They didn't ask any specific questions
about transsexuality or what was going on with me, other than, "So
do you wear dresses to work?"
I explained about how Mike had noticed the name on the
e-mail, and I how I had called him. Ironically, it turned out that
my parents had in fact
received the e-mail, but since they didn't know any "Elaine Rose",
they had thought it was spam and had deleted it. So I could have just
ignored the whole thing! Oh well. I was happy to finally have things
out in the open. At least I thought so at the time.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I had them write down the url of the web site where they could see
my pictures, and I ended the conversation feeling pretty good about
it. They weren't happy, but they didn't panic and they didn't
disown me. I felt that they took it okay, and everything would be
fine.
I followed up our conversation with this e-mail:
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Hi Mom and Dad. Well, here's my information again. I'm so glad to have
talked to you about what is going on with me, and I am especially glad
that you are understanding and supportive about it. Being a woman
really does agree with me! Here is the link where you can see some
pictures, I hope:
www.geocities.com/elainerose31
Also here is a link that has some brief information about transsexualism,
that you might find interesting:
www.tsfaq.info
[..contact info..]
I also put a Valentine card with some photos of myself in the mail to
my parents, in case they had any trouble accessing the web site.
I left a voice-mail "transition update" on my therapist Cynthia's
answering machine. I told here everything was going great for me,
and left a condensed version of the "coming out to the folks"
story. I felt a slight urge to say something like, "I told you
they would be cool with it!" but I resisted. I got a message back
from Cynthia after the weekend. She was happy that things were
going so well for me. But she cautioned me that my parents second
reaction, once the reality set in, might be a lot more harsh than
their first reaction. In this, she would prove to be quite correct!
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Big Brother, Little Sister
That evening, before heading up to the City for Cotillion, I called
my sister Mary. She is two years younger than me, and I had always
felt close to her. Although to be honest, half the time when we
were young, I joined my brother in tormenting her. I had heard that
sisters were often the most supportive family members in a
transition situation, and expected that Mary would be just that
way. However, when I called her house, there was no one home.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Reluctantly, I dialed my big brother, Bob. I had heard that
brothers often have the worst reaction, due to their closeness and
the similarity of the situation. But I was not rally worried about
how Bob would react. We had never been very close. When we were small,
he was mostly my enemy, constantly bullying me and making me cry.
Of course, I learned that the louder I cried the faster my parents
would come to my rescue, and the worse he would be punished, so I
cried quickly and loudly! Funny thing, though, no matter how much
my parent punished Bobby, whether with chores, or by grounding, or
even occasionally spanking, it never deterred him from picking on
me some more. In retrospect, there probably should have been a
point where my parent realized this wasn't being effective. Somewhere
along the line maybe I should have been taught to deal with the
bully myself. But I wonder.. were they unconsciously treating
me like a daughter, trying to protect me from the big brother,
whereas a son would should be able to protect himself?
Once we became teenagers and the adults, Bob moved off into his
own circle of acquaintances and we didn't see much of each other.
From then on we were on good terms, just not close. So I didn't
expect him to feel very deeply about whatever might be going on
in my life. And I didn't expect to care deeply whatever his
reaction might be.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Long story short, he took my news pretty well. (Is this starting
to sound familiar.) We had the longest, nicest chat we've had in
a long time. He said he was very surprised, but trusted that I
knew what I was doing. And he brought up that he really didn't
know me that well, so he couldn't claim to be that shocked. I
joked, "You always expected weird stuff like this from me
anyway, didn't you?" "I sure didn't see this one coming!" he
assured me.
When he could, Bob steered the conversation to something that
was obviously weighing more heavily on his mind. "What about
June?" he asked. Wha??? I didn't even know what he was talking
about, until he reminded me. This year would be my parents' 50th
wedding anniversary. Several years ago us kids had all promised to
get together with them in Carson City to celebrate, like we had
done for their 45th. But with Mike and his wife Janet having the
baby due in April, it didn't seem like this would work out. For
some reason or another, my Mom seemed to have gotten into her
mind that she and Dad should go visit Bob and Mary in Oregon
instead. What were we going to do?
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
So much stuff is changing so quickly in my life these days,
I'm living week by week. June is way out beyond my planning horizon.
But there's so little going on with the rest of the family (other
than the baby!) that this event was the next thing coming up, and
it seemed just around the corner. So we discussed some ideas, but
left it unsettled. At this point I was looking forward to a
family get-together, so they could all meet me as Elaine. But we
would see how the plan came together.
I also talked to Bob's (2nd) wife Mary a bit. (Sorry for the confusion,
but there's a sister Mary and a sister-in-law Mary.) Again, she seemed
to take my news pretty well.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I tried my sister Mary again, but still there was no one home. So I
headed up to Cotillion. Later that evening I called Mary from my
hotel room, and finally, she was home. We had a nice chat ($63 worth!)
and she was surprised but okay. It turns out she loves shoes too!
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
So I attended Cotillion feeling pretty good about things overall. I
was a bit unnerved about the unexpected outing to my family, but I
felt I had dealt with it in a reasonable fashion, and they all seemed
to be okay. It was my first Cotillion, so I had the thrill of being
introduced as a debutante and strutting my stuff across the stage. I
wore a flapper-style dress that emphasized my thinness (some say
too skinny!) It had a tight black cotton tank top, which I
wore flat-chested, and a short blue-satin circle skirt. I took a big
matching blue satin bow off the skirt and wore it instead as a hat,
cocked saucily on the side of my head. Dare I say, I was a smash?
The Second Reaction
The aftermath of coming out grew more disappointing as the days
went by. In waited for somebody in my loving family to call me back
and check how I was doing. I wanted somebody to tell me that they
looked at my pictures, and damn!, I made a surprisingly good-looking
woman! This is the reaction that I had been getting from co-workers
and acquaintances I had come out to, but I would even more value
hearing the same from my loved ones. But the days went by and
the phone did not ring.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
On Wednesday, 5 days after I had my coming out chat with my parents,
my father wrote me this e-mail:
From: Robert ________
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
I found the letter in my home e-mail account the next evening. Needless to say,
my illusion that my parents were taking it well were shattered. It shook me.
I was surprised at how strongly I was impacted, because I thought I was ready
for anything. But wow, did this hit some hot-buttons on me!
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:07 PM
To: _____@earthlink.net
Subject:
Dear Eddy
When you called last week we didn't know
how to respond to your revelation, it was
kind of shocking. When you were here on
Christmas we thought you looked different
and suspected you were gay. I was ready
to accept that but this threw us.
It was when we saw the pictures that the
full significance hit us. I found them
repulsive.
Knowing that our value system is "old
school" to you I spoke to your three
siblings and found their reaction was
the same as ours. In fact each of them
had their spouse look at them first and
found them "disturbing".
If this is what makes you happy you will
do what you have to do. We have never
interfered in our childrens lives and will
always love you and be there for you. I
ask only one thing of you - please don't
come to any family functions dressed
as a woman. I doubt we all could handle
it. If our Son or brother,Eddy, comes he
will be welcomed with open arms.
Love
Dad
For starters, I realized that this was, as far as I could remember, the
first time in my entire life that my father had written a personal note
to me. My mother always wrote out the Christmas cards, and birthday cards,
and letters from home, etc. Clearly my Dad was really upset, to take
keyboard in had personally.
And those words. "Repulsive." "Disturbing." These struck me as particularly
brutal comments about my pictures, which I thought were so cute. They really
cut right to heart of my deepest insecurity, that, far from passing, I really
appear to people as a joke and mockery of womanhood.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
And then telling me what the rest of the family thinks. The nerve! Can't
his opinion stand on its own? Can't he let the others speak for themselves?
And finally, the urgency that he quickly dispatch this letter to me
to prevent me from showing up at family functions en femme. Family functions?
As if we have any??? The "family" Christmas was exactly me showing up at
their door. This would be completely absurd, except I know that June
reunion is probably on his mind. Better stop me now, June is just around
the corner!
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
And by the way, who is he to say what I can do at family functions? It's not
like we're the Gallo family, with a strong patrician tradition. I'm an adult,
I'll do what I damn well please, and relate to my family as I see fit. Right?
I felt all these strong negative reactions, and I still feel them even as I
write this. But in some ways, at least in an intellectual way, I could
understand why my father was reacting this way. After all, Cynthia had
warned me, and all the books warned me. People hold extremely tightly
to their conceptions of gender, and it is very uncomfortable to have them
challenged. Fathers in particular are hurt to discover a transsexual son.
He was in shock. I must give him time to adjust. It may take a lot of time.
6 months quite likely, even a year. Some parents never accept it.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I tried to put my own hurt feelings aside, and respond as sympathetically
as I could. I hoped if I approached him in an unconfrontational manner,
I might have the opportunity for some education as well. Here is my reply
to my father's letter:
Dear Dad, It's Thursday night, and I just checked my home e-mail and got
your letter. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me honestly and
frankly. I am sorry that my transition is bringing you bad feelings. I'm
sure you know I am not doing this to hurt you. In fact, I am trying to
do everything I can think of to make it as easy for you as I can. That
is why I did not share this thing with you for as long as I could, until
it found its way out by accident. Of course I will not present myself as
a woman in your presence if you don't want me to, and I appreciate that
I am still welcome otherwise.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
My father did not reply to this letter.
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I hope you understand that this is not something I am doing lightly or
just for fun. I have struggled with these issues for many years, and
particularly intensively over the last 12 months. It is probably the
biggest thing that can happen in a person's life, except for maybe having
a baby or (God forbid) getting in a terrible accident or illness. But I
truly believe this is the way I am built, and I need to live this way to
find happiness and to be true to myself. I used to think that looking for
personal happiness was a weak and selfish thing, that it was not a worthy
goal to pursue. But I finally realized that it is not an end goal, rather,
it is a prerequisite. Unless I am true to myself and happy with myself,
I can't be good at anything else, or bring any good to anyone else. I
tried very hard for many years to live up to my ideals of what a man
should be, but it didn't work. It was just a costume I was trying to wear,
and it didn't fit very well. I wound up sitting in my big beautiful house
all alone, drinking myself to an early grave. But it was all I knew, the
only role I imagined I could play. Now I have found a new role, and it
seems to be a much better fit. I believe I have made a new beginning
from which I can build a life that brings joy to myself and others,
and that is what I am trying to do. Dad, I always looked up to you as
an example of a good person living a good life, being fair and
considerate of others. I don't really know if you have felt happy going
through your life, or merely embattled. I hope you have found joy and
satisfaction from providing a good life for and with a fine family
(with one kinda weird kid). I don't know about that, but I've always
wanted to emulate your goodness, and fairness, and thoughtfulness.
That is what I will continue to do.
Well, time passes and things change. I know this is a big shock, so
let's ride it out for a while and see what happens. Knowing that you
love me is the main thing, and I thank you for that. Please know that
I love you too. And if you wish to continue to think of me this way,
then I will always be..
Your loving Son,
Eddy
Your loving Son,
Eddy
For all my understanding of what was going on for my father, I felt
resentful that there didn't seem to be a work of understanding or sympathy
for me. Yes, he will always love and be there for me. It is a good sign that
he said that. But what kind of love is that? Just words, perhaps. Yes, I
presented my family with a challenge and they were deeply affected by it,
but there was not a single one of them who seemed to have any inkling that
I need some support too.
Well, that's not completely true. At the same time I got the note from my
father, my dear sweet mother sent me this note:
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
From: Dolores ______
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 6:52 PM
To: _______@earthlink.net
Subject: Hi!
Dearest Eddy:
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I pray you had a safe trip up to Seattle and all went well. We received
the beautiful card you sent, thank you so much , the pictures did, once
again, sadden me as I cannot relate to the person in the photos, nor can
any of the family, I'm sure you will understand our feelings ; nevertheless,
you will always be my Eddy and we will always love one another.
The lovely flower bulbs you gave us are opening up and look very pretty.
Thanks again. Doesn't it seem a long time ago since Christmas and its only
been a little over four weeks.
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I know its been cold over your way and it was five degrees here this
morning, Brrrr, that's cold !! Well stay warm , my thoughts and prayers
are with you. May God watch over you and keep you safe. I love you !
Mom
I appreciated my mother's love, and that she stated her negative
reactions softly, especially as compared with my father. But I would
have valued some more intimate thoughts. It also irked me that she could
comment on how pretty the lovely flower bulbs were, but not on a word
on the beauty of her child.
I replied to my mother:
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Dearest Mom, Thank you for the note, which I just found in my home e-mail.
It was nice talking to you on the phone the other night. I'm sorry my
transition is bringing you sadness, but I can understand how it must feel
as if you are losing your old Eddy. I hope one day you will find some love
for your new Lannie, and that I'm still your same loving child. This gets
confusing, doesn't it? Anyway, as I wrote to Dad, as long as you wish to
think of me this way, I will always remain,
Your loving Son,
Eddy
One more e-mail exchange between my mother and I, which took place one
week later, concludes our communications up to the time I am writing this:
Dearest Eddy:
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
..and my reply..
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Just a line to let you know I'm thinking of you and praying all is well
with you. Wish you could see the beautiful flowers now in bloom from the
bulbs, one is tall and one is a little shorter and both have four big
red and white flowers on them, the one in the middle didn't do anything
yet but its still green, maybe that was by design so one will come out
later, anyway they are lovely and thanks again for your thoughtfulness.
Praise God, we are doing okay here, striving to adjust to your change in
life style but we know you must have agonized over it and are doing what
you feel is right for you. And who is to judge anyone else, I often think
of the parable Jesus gave about people wanting to remove the little sliver
in some one else' eye and not seeing the plank in their own eye. In the
end honey, we will all have to give an account of our lives to the Lord.
That is who really matters.
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
We are having a few days of lovely weather, cold nights but warm sunny days,
in the low fifties, I wish it could stay like this all year round but we
need the seasons and soon will be Spring, a time for planting , a time for
new life and Janet and Michael will witness this miracle soon, God willing,
all will go well and the baby will be healthy.
love you Eddy, may God be with you.
Mom
Mom
Dear Mother, Thank you for writing again. It is good to know that I am
still in your thoughts, and not in a completely bad way. I am happy that
the flowers are blooming beautifully for you. Perhaps the bulb in the
middle is like me, it is taking a little longer than the others to figure
out what it is supposed to be when it blooms. I hope that one day soon,
when the shock wears off, you will come to see that I am blossoming into
a beautiful flower too. But I know it will take some time. They say it
often takes about 6 months for close family to adjust.
I suppose this is hardest on Dad. I can't claim to really understand,
because I am not a father. Also, I don't really understand how men feel
about things--that's sort of the point of what I've found out about myself.
But I do sympathize with how hard it must be for him. I wonder if there is
anything I can do to help?
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
I have a book, "True Selves, Understanding Transsexualism, for families,
friends, coworkers, and helping professionals," by a therapist named
Mildred Brown. I've met Millie a few times. She is a darling sweet woman.
She reminds me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer, except she's not Jewish and she
doesn't talk about sex so much! My therapist Cynthia Young studied for
a time under Millie. I found her book to be very helpful, and a lot of
other people have told me it helped them and their families and friends.
If I sent it to you, do you think you and Dad might want to look at it
a little? I'm asking because I won't send it if you think it would
just make matters worse. I surely don't want to aggravate the situation!
All is going very well for me, still. People at work have been marvelous
about accepting my change. Nobody says anything about it, it's just
business as usual. A few of the secretaries have been particularly nice
to me, and we are becoming good friends. Really, the only negative thing
for me so far has been the hurt I've caused you, my family. I wish there
had been an easier way to break the news, but this is one of those things
that there's just no easy way to say. "One of those things?".. well, I
guess this is a pretty unique thing!
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
Mom, I've been thinking that you were correct about something all along.
Over the years you always told me, "Be patient, one day you'll find the
woman that's right for you!"? You were so right. It just turned out that
she was in the last place I thought to look: inside me. I'm so glad I've
found her. I hope you are too, one day. You know what? I think you'll
like her! (I know she likes you.)
Love..
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet.
Polonius [a father to his son], in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 3, l. 78-80.
This last letter I sent 3 days ago. I have not heard back from Mom or Dad.
I did check back in with my sister and my younger brother. They agreed that
the parents--especially Dad--were upset. They confirmed my guess that they
themselves, which still quite surprised, were not "repulsed" like my Dad
seemed to be. They supported me, and felt they would be able to adjust
to the change with time. In fact, Mom had read Mike the letter Dad sent me
(there's the "Mom telegraph" at work!), and Mike said he felt that it was
somewhat unfair in its characterization of how the others felt. He said he
had planned to call me soon to talk about it.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Mike asked me what I thought was a very insightful question, which I very
much appreciated. First he assured me that he respected my decisions and
would support me no matter what. He commented as to how he can understand
that I suffered from depression and other internal problems, and I would
should do what I could to heal myself. But how, he wondered, does changing
the appearance on the outside, that is, dressing as a woman, fix problems
which exist on the inside? I thought this was a great observation, and a
good distillation of at least one of the things that is very confusing to
understand about transgender-ism. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to
try to explain that the clothes (as much as I love them) aren't the real
point, it is much more about the internal standards and models that I hold
myself up to. The feminine presentation is mostly a queue to the rest of
the world about how I view myself and how I would like to be treated. I
don't know if I did a good job explaining or if he took the point, but
it's a start.
Mike also mentioned that it was particularly hard on him because as the
little brother, he had always looked up to me as a role model. I wanted
to ask him why he wouldn't still do that; but I didn't want to put him
on the spot. Instead, I commented that even if he may not be able to
fully agree with what I'm doing, I hoped that at least he respected the
fact that I was being strong enough to do what I believed to be right
for me. He certainly did respect that, he said.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
That's pretty much where things stand today. I also had an interesting
chat with my sister's husband, who is not shy, and asked a lot more
direct questions that anybody else had. He insisted he isn't as
affected as the others, not being a blood relative, but he seemed
pretty interested! And I had a long conversation with my big brother's
ex-wife in Tuscon. I feel an especially close bond with her, because
I borrowed her name, Rose, as part of my own. Rose was very open to
my news, and seemed to have no problem with it at all, bless her!
This week I see Cynthia my therapist, for the first time in a couple of
months. I made the appointment specifically to discuss the events and
feelings recounted herein--in fact, writing this is prep for the
session. I currently feel at peace with the family's reaction. I believe
they all--even my dad--will come around in time. I am sorry they are
having a hard time dealing with my changes. But I do not feel guilty
about it. I am doing what I have to do, what is my only path to be
true to myself. Several people have told me they thought it would be
wise to keep it a secret from my parents forever. But I don't agree.
The truth sets us free, right? I hate the idea of family members
keeping secrets from each other. It's ugly, awkward, and stressful.
I believe we will be stronger, closer, happier family, once we have
worked through the pain of this transition. And if some people can't
deal with the truth, I'm sorry, but that's their problem. I'll do
everything I can to make it as easy on everyone as possible, but I
won't hide myself in shame. Elaine is here. Leave me, or take me
as I am.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Luv,
Lannie
Feburary 10, 2002
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Here's a quick update. It is one month later. I've been checking
in with my family regularly. My mother seems okay, but my father has
not picked up the phone to speak with me, nor has he written further.
(One silver lining: he stopped forwarding me bad internet jokes!)
My older brother thought things over, and decided he totally
can't handle it. He told me he didn't know much about this stuff,
and he decided he wants to remain ignorant. I should please let him
know if I'm going to show up anywhere, because he doesn't feel that
he can handle being in the same place with me. He said Mom cried
when they were talking about me on the phone, and if it were his
choice, he wouldn't have told our parents about it. He wouldn't have
told his two sons, either (they're in their 20's)--but his ex-wife
already did. Oh well! My sister Mary is still okay; she
doesn't see what the big deal is, goddess bless her. And she told me
she thinks Mom and Dad are starting to adjust. I hope she's right.
I plan to keep in touch by phone and e-mail, but the ball is
pretty much in their court for dealing with their feelings about
me.
I'm doing okay myself, dealing with their reaction. I miss having
them in my corner, as it were, but I'm still confident that they will
come around in time. (Probably brother Bob will take a long while.)
I'm disappointed for now, because one of the reasons I wanted to
share this with them, is so I could share everything that was
going on in my life. But right now, they just don't want to hear it,
so that didn't work out for me. But this is a short-term setback,
hopefully for a long-term good result. Perhaps what hurts the
most is that I've always gotten strong approval from my family for
everything I've done--in school, my career, getting married, etc.
And they also supportted me in rough times--getting divorced, when I
was ill, etc. But now here I am, doing the biggest thing I've
ever done in my life, and I'm prouder of it and happier with the
results that with anything else I've ever done, and they don't
approve. In fact, it grosses them out. The dissonance is very
difficult for me to accept. But that's the way it is. Okay, I'll
deal with it.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Other than my family, everything else is going just great for me,
thank you! I'll add to this essay when there are further developments..
Luv,
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Lannie
March 8, 2002
Update: April 4, 2002
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
No news, but I'm starting to let myself be irritated with my
family's slow progress. To blow off some steam, I wrote them
some letters (which I did not actaully send to them.)
Click here to read the letters.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Update: November 16, 2002
Almost a year has gone by, and my family has not budged and inch.
I try to call my mother every week just to keep in contact and
to beam some love at her. She still calls me by my boy name, and
every week she tells me that she loves me but she is sad because
Jesus does not approve of my transition. My father says he still
loves me but he has not picked up the phone to say "Hi" except when
I called in April to wish him Happy Birthday. He says he simply
doesn't have anything in common to discuss with me any more. My
sister just laughed sadly at that, and said, "That's been the story
of my life. It tooks years of therapy for me to let it go!" My
dear sister sees nothing wrong with what I'm doing, and is actually
happy for me, I think. But she never calls. My mother tells me my
two brothers and my father are waiting for this to blow over.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I hinted to my mother that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner would
be nice, as I've gone to visit them each Thanksgiving for the last
4 or 5 years. (Except last year, when a storm deferred it to Christmas.)
I think my mom is inclined to invite me, but she sadly says, "Your
father couldn't stand to see you."
The saddest part is, I'm afraid that by the time they decide to give in
and accept what I am, I may have given up on them. Sorry I don't have a
cheerier note to sign off on.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Update: June 15, 2003
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Another half a year has gone by (as well as my Sex Reassignment Surgery),
and today is Father's Day. I almost didn't call him, feeling as I do that
he doesn't particularly want to speak with me anyway. But guilt and hope
won out, so I dialed. Apparently my mother had put Dad on phone duty for the
day, since he uncharacteristically answered my ring. We had a brief but
pleasant conversation about not much. I much appreciated that he spoke
kindly with me at all. I told him that I was taking ballroom dancing
classes, and gingerly dropped the comment that I found it easier because
now I get to follow instead of lead. I was afraid that this sort of thing would turn him
off, but he discussed it pleasantly. However, here is the big news: When he said
goodbye, he started to use my old boy name, but then he caught himself and
said, "I guess it's 'Lannie' now?" "Yes!" I told him. "Thank you so much!"
So there is hope.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Update: April 4, 2004
My parents finally came around! I don't know if this was a direct cause, but
it's good to start the story with this: Last November my mother was diagnosed
with colon cancer. Everyone in the family was very distressed, except for
my mother. Her attitude was that if Jesus was ready to take her, she was
ready to go. (Have I mentioned that she is an evangelical Christian?) To
cut to the chase, she had surgery and it went very well. The doctor
believed he got all the cancer; biopsies confirmed that it had not spread
to her lymph nodes; and he did not even recommend chemotherapy.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
During my mother's ordeal I called almost every single day.
I spoke to my father a few times right around the
surgery date, but mostly to my mother as usual. I suspect that pulling together
to support each other emotionally through this tough challenge may be what
broke down my parent's resistance to accepting my sex change. In any case,
as my mom began regaining her strength, they told me they would be happy
if I visited them for Christmas.
You may be astonished that I didn't drive over to Carson City to physically
be with my parents at that time; especially when my mother was actually
in the hospital. I wanted to do that, and I understand my siblings offered
the same. But my parents wouldn't hear of it, they are so cussedly independent.
My mom insisted that we wait until after she felt better before she
would allow anyone to visit. ("Don't go through any bother on my account,
it's only cancer!" She didn't actually say that, but that's the way it
sounded to me.)
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I also spoke to my sister and little brother a few times while this was
going on. I called them. They never called me. But they seemed to be happy
that I called.
I intended to take my parents up on their offer to let me visit at Christmas
time, but bad weather set in and it would have been difficult driving over
the Sierras. My mother was worried about me driving in inclement weather
and I hate putting on snow chains myself. Bad weather, illness, and other
commitments continued to delay me, and it became Spring before I made it.
Finally, just last Friday, I took the five hour drive.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
I decided it would be easiest on my parents if, for their first impression of
me, I was not in an extremely femme'd up appearance. So I dressed in black slacks,
flat sandals, a casual blouse, no bra calling attention to my itty-bitties, and very
little makeup. As a matter of fact, that's how I usually dress these days, so
it was very natural for me. When I arrived, my mother greeted me at the door
with a big smile, and she hugged me as I came into the living room. Giving me
a good look-over, she said, "You still look like you. Just gay."
I smiled and said, "I told you it wasn't a big deal!"
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
My dad came in from the back bedroom and gave me a warm, "Hi!" He didn't touch
me and he seemed a little stand-offish, but otherwise he seemed the same as usual.
The truth is, I don't think either one of us were sure whether we wanted to
hug or shake hands (or, heavens to Betsy, kiss!) so we didn't do anything. But
later in the visit he hugged me, and we shook hands when I departed, just the
way we usually did. My mom said to my dad, "He still looks like Eddy, but with
long hair and lipstick."
The visit went great. It was very much like the visits I had with them before
I had my sex change. My therapist had warned me not to expect them to be
ready to talk about transsexual stuff, and that I should just be happy if they
accept me. But my parents exceeded expectations. We did discuss some trans
issues and they seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Nothing in great
depth, mind you, and they don't seem to be any closer to understanding or
accepting it, but they fully accept that I can do what I want with my life
and my body, and they will still love me. That's a win in my book. A win-win,
as a matter of fact.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Shortly after I arrived, I needed to use the bathroom. When I was out of the
room, I overheard my mother tell my father, "He doesn't look as bad as I
expected. He has beautiful skin." I was very gratified to hear this. Later, my
mom told me directly, "You are quite pretty." She is quite wonderful.
I found myself thinking that maybe it was a good thing that they didn't see
me until two years after my transition, because it probably would have been
harder for them to cope with when I wore wigs and tons of makeup. Then I thought,
How sad, that I should believe my parent's love and acceptance depends on how
nice I look. But that's the way it often is with transsexualism—acceptance
is directly related to how passable we are.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Throughout my visit my mother persisted in using my boy name and male pronouns.
From time to time she would say, "My child..."
and slightly giggle as she used the word "child," emphasizing that she was
making an effort not to say "son," but she was not comfortable doing it.
My dad managed to avoid using my name or any pronouns all weekend, as best
as I can recall.
At one point the doorbell rang, and Mom speculated that it might be her
neighbor from across the street, come to see who the visitor (me) was. It turned
out to be somebody with a petition, but Mom said she would have been happy
to introduce me. I said, "You wouldn't want me to go hide in the back?" (as
I have heard some trans women tell of their families) but she said no,
she would introduce me, although she wasn't sure exactly what she would say.
I said she could just introduce me as her daughter but she said, "No, no,
I wouldn't do that."
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
My mother and I also discussed about whether I was disclosing my sex change
to men I was dating. She didn't condemn me for keeping it secret, but she
does think it is dishonest. I told her, "I've
thought about this issue a lot,
and here are
some things to consider." Explain as I might,
her only reaction was, "I still think it's dishonest."
We did talk about other things besides my transsexuality. Besides family
news, the main topic was religion, as often seems to be the case when an
evangelical Christian is in the room. We didn't fight, but she certainly
gives no quarter on anything that contradicts her understanding of the bible.
As one point she said something about my sex change like, "Well, we all know
what the bible says about that!"
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
"The bible never mentions transsexuality," I said.
"Oh yes it does," she said. "Don't make me get out my scriptures!"
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
"It talks about homosexuality," I said, "but not transsexuality."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?" she replied. Her education on the finer
points of gender and sexuality has not progressed very far.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Anyway, it was a pleasant visit and it was a relief to me to out of familial
exile. I apologized for the pain I had caused them, but my dad said, "It's not
your fault. It's your life, you can do what you like. It's just hard for us
to adjust to it." I thought that was very magnanimous of him.
As I was leaving the next day, we were hugging goodbye and I said, "It's nice
to be back in the family fold."
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
My dad said, "You were never really out." Again, I thought it was very sweet
of him to
say so. However, for me the room still held an elephant that we had
not acknowledged. How exactly was it that a year ago they
"simply couldn't cope" with seeing me, and now I was very much accepted in their
home? I wasn't looking for an apology: "We're sorry we were so heartless before;
we should have been more supportive." While I would have loved to hear that,
I was not expecting it or emotionally in need of it. But I would have loved
to hear something like, "I guess we finally got used to the idea that you had
made this change for keeps;" or "We decided we'd rather see you, even if it
was difficult for us to bear, than not see you at all;" or "Mom's cancer ordeal
made us realize how precious our family is, in spite of your change." But our
family has never been one to express emotions; really, we are all very out of
touch with our emotions (althought I feel I am making some progress in that
area myself.) It would have been a surprising thing to talk about.
In fact, I rather doubt they know themselves what happened. Maybe "Time
heals all wounds" would
be as close as we could come to explain it. Or, as my Mom would say, "It's
a blessing from God!" On that point, I would agree with her completely.
Home .. Words index