Out!

Last Sunday I came out to my parents. Finally. And what a relief it is to not have that burden anymore! Yay!

Earlier I had asked my brother and his wife if they would accompany me for moral support. So, from their house, I texted my mom asking if they were home as there was some stuff I wanted to talk to them about. She said yes and the three of us drove there, me understandably nervous.

"So," my mom said, once we'd been there a few minutes, "what is it you want to talk to us about?"
"Well, uh," I stammermed, "The thing is, I'm pretty sure I'm transgender."
(That was a lie: I know I'm transgender, it's not something I'm "pretty sure" about. But somehow it felt easier to sound a little uncertain.)

Then followed a very long, rambling explanation from me in which I clarified all the usual stuff: that I'm not currently planning on having any medical intervention, that I've felt this way my whole life, that it's not a choice, that I'm still attracted to girls, and so on. I tried to make it clear how much happier I am now that I've stopped supressing this part of me. Lastly I said something like, but not as concise as: "I'm telling you this because I love you guys and want you to know me as the person I am, not the one I pretend to be."

"Well," my mom said slowly, "I don't know what I'm supposed to say. Of course we still love you. But I'm worried— won't this make your life more complicated?"
"I'm sure it will," I responded, "but I'd rather have a life that's complicated and happy than one that's simple and miserable."

It was clear right away that they weren't surprised. In fact, they had guessed that that was what I was going to tell them when I sent the text. My dad said it had been kind of obvious for a while. "We've always known that you were... different," added my mom. She put the word different in air quotes.

This was something I hadn't realized. If they've known since my childhood that I was "different," (to use my mother's word), than they've known for longer than I have. Suddenly it occured to me that maybe every anti-LGBT thing they said when I was growing up was not spoken out of idle bigotry, but intentionally for me to hear, in a vain hope that I might somehow turn out straight. That's probably silly though, and even if it were true, there'd be no sense in dwelling on the past now.

My mom asked what expectations I had of them now that I was out. I was confused by this and asked her what she meant.
"Well, for example, I somtimes call you son."
"Ohhhh... yeah," I said, "I guess I'd prefer something more gender-neutral. Like child."
"Okay, I'll try. But I'll probably slip up sometimes."
"That's okay," I said.
I didn't ask for female pronouns; I am, after all, still living primarily as a male.

I suppose the whole experience went about as well as I could reasonably have hoped for. It was obvious that my parents aren't happy about this, but they're willing to accept it, so that's good. Considering that some people are literally disowned over this stuff, I guess I should be grateful. Even so, I wish they could be happy for me that I'm beginning to feel comfortable as myself, or proud of me for making an effort to live authentically.

But maybe those things will come with time.

A cold night

It was bitterly cold, and we never did find what we were looking for, but the night was still a lot of fun.

Last Thursday four of us drove out of the city for an evening of stargazing, equipped with a telescope, binoculars, sky charts and heavy coats. We were hoping to see the recent supernova in the M82 galaxy, but our inexperience, the light of the half moon, and the low temperatures kept us from finding it. Even so, we got a good look at Jupiter and three of its moons, which was still pretty cool.

Dressing to stay warm in -20° C is a very different thing from dressing to express one's gender. I suppose I was in "boy mode," but I'd have worn the same warm clothes, out of nessecity, in any gender. What was really nice is that the group consisted entirely of people I'm out to. Somehow I find it much easier to present male around people who know I'm trans than around those who don't. I guess that's because I don't feel like I'm decieving anyone.

What we failed to find...

I've been thinking and writing about coming out to my parents for a long time. Recently I asked my brother and sister-in-law if they'd be willing to come along with me when I come out, to provide moral support. They said of course they would. This will make it a lot easier, not to mention a lot more likely to actually happen. Currently the plan is for the three of us to head over to my parents' place the next time my father is in town, which will be next week. So now there is a definite timeframe for this happening!

Feeling better

Sometimes I think everyone should have a blog.

When I wrote my last post I was so dysphoric about my gender I felt like I could hardly breathe. In the course of writing it I determined that I should get out of the house as a girl at least once that week. And guess what? I ended up doing it twice! And have been feeling quite a bit better as a result. This blogging thing really does help.

The second time I even attended two of my classes at the university. (They were larger classes where I don't know anyone). I wore a skirt, which was a lot of fun, and heels, which would have been fun except for the fact that I walk to school from my house: halfway there I was thinking: why the hell do we wear these things? Nonetheless, I felt like I looked fantastic— (oh yeah, that's why)— and had a really good day.

In some ways my gender issues are actually pretty simple: when I'm a girl I'm happy; when I'm a boy I'm sad. It's not that hard to understand after all.

I recently discovered and started reading a manga series called Hōrō Musuko, or "Wandering Son." (Manga is Japanese comic books, by the way). It tells a trans-y coming of age story about a "boy who wants to be a girl" and a "girl who wants to be a boy." The two discover each other's secret and together they face the trials of puberty, bullying and keeping everything hidden from their parents. The author is cis and there a few places where that becomes cringingly obvious, but for the most part it's very well done. Somehow I've found it incredibly cathartic to watch these characters struggle with things I've gone through, and some things I'm still going through.

The main characters in their preferred genders.

Speaking of which, it sounds like I'm probably heading over to my parents' house for dinner tomorrow. I've been thinking about coming out to them for ages now. Maybe it's time I finally did...

Not a happy girl

I'm still not out to my parents. At the end of December I figured that would be done by now. But it's still looming over me. Partly this is because my dad travels a lot for his job and I don't always know when he's in town. But it's mostly my own cowardly lack of resolve.

When I came out to my roommates last month, one of them was in Germany so he never heard about it. He's been back in Canada for a couple weeks now, and I still haven't talked to him about it. I don't have any doubts that he'll be accepting, but I still feel like I ought to have the conversation before he sees me as a girl. (As someone else put it, the words transgender and surprise don't go well together.) So this means that I've been back temporarily in a quasi-closet around my own house.

Of course school has now started up again after the winter break, and I have been continuing to present male there. I could maybe attend my larger classes as a girl without it being a big deal. But it would seem strange, in the smaller, more interactive classes, to suddenly show up in a different gender. So, male it is.

All of these factors combined— my continued worry about telling my parents plus the two things limiting my gender expression— have been causing me some pretty bad depression lately. I have not been a happy girl these past two weeks. Not at all. Sigh...

Still though, I know what I need to do. Sitting around moping won't help; I need to take real steps toward making things better. To that end, I'm making it a goal to leave the house as a girl at least once this week.

A fantabulous night!

I wore a dress for New Year's Eve! In the eight months I'd been crossdressing it was the first time I'd ever worn one, as unbelievable as that may seem. I should clarify, it was the first time I'd worn one as a girl. I'd tried on dresses in boy mode, but that's not the same thing at all.

Carson and Jamey (that's my brother and his wife) had me over at their place to ring in the new year. None of us are the sort of people who really enjoy large parties or spending loads of money at bars, so we figured we'd have a little get-together just the three of us. And just for the hell of it, it was decided the evening would be a formal affair. After all, they both enjoy dressing up fancy, and I hadn't yet had an occasion to do so as a girl.

On the day before I managed to pick out a gorgeous dress that, for some reason, actually fit well and looked good on me. That night I was so excited about wearing it the next day I could hardly sleep! I'm a bit silly like that, I guess. :) The following afternoon I bought some fabulous shoes and jewelry to go with it. I even went so far as to buy some of that shapey hose stuff, which, ironically, ended up being the most expensive part of my outfit.

I arrived at their apartment in boy mode that evening. Jamey and I did our makeup together. She helped me out a lot, and insisted I use several of her products. I learned a lot from her, and my makeup definitely looked better than it ever has before. It was a ton of fun, too!

...aaaand this is what I looked like! Possibly my favourite photo of me ever! :D

Then the three of us had a delightful evening of sushi, boardgames, and drinks, though we missed counting down to midnight because we were busy discussing how Jupiter's gravity causes gaps to form in the asteroid belt. (Yeah, we really do talk about geeky stuff like that, I'm afraid). And it was such a relief for me just to be in the right gender, especially after all the stress I had spending Christmas at my parents' house.

The three of us looking fabulous. (Posted with their permission)

I can't express how grateful I am to have those two in my life, nor how much I appreciate that I can be myself around them. In fact, there was a much more important "first" that night than just my first time in a dress. It was also, technically, my first time presenting fully female in front of them. It's just that, we reached that point so gradually I don't think any of us hardly noticed. Over the months since I came out to them I've let them see increasingly feminine iterations of my male presentation (once even wearing heels in boy mode!), so that by the time they finally met girl-me, it wasn't a big deal.

At one point during the evening I apologized to Carson for how weird it must be having a crossdresser for a brother. (Of course I know I can't help being trans, but I still feel culpable somehow). He shrugged it off: "It's a little weird, but whatever." Then with a smile he added, "You're a crossdresser, but I'm more feminine than you are!" My brother is not a typical "manly man" by any means, and his point, I think, was that I wasn't the only one with an atypical gender.

Depending on your definition of femininity, and that's a very difficult thing to define, he might even be right. I'm a bit of a tomboy; he's a bit of a pretty boy. In the end it probably doesn't make sense to compare one person's femininity to another's, since it's something each person defines for hirself. But it does go to show what a complicated, convoluted thing gender is.

Also, SUSHI!!

It was a great night, both in terms of fun and gender expression, and I'm thinking I just might need to find more excuses to get all dressed up!

A hint of gender

In a footnote of my previous post I said my mom had noticed a hint of my gender issues. Aimee called me out on leaving such a huge cliffhanger unresolved, so I'm writing this post to fix that! :)

As I said before, I was having a very hard time dealing with my gender during the time I spent at my parents' house over Christmas. On the second-last day there, being quite depressed and hoping it would help, I decided to wear a camisole under my guy clothes. (I had brought one with me to sleep in). I wore a t-shirt and a sweater over top of it, so I honestly thought I would be safe.

I did help me feel a little better.

But, of course, later on one of the straps shifted so that it was visible through my collar. My dad was in the next room. My mom pointed to it and said quietly, "You need to adjust that before your father sees it." I did, and we carried on with our game of Scrabble as if nothing had happened.

The next day, just as I was leaving to go home, and my dad was out walking their dogs, she suddenly blurted out, "Tyler, I want you to see a counsellor." This was followed by a very tense pause. I said nothing. Then she continued, "I don't know what you're going through. But when people are having a crisis of identity like this, whether that's gender or whatever, they sometimes act in the ways that are... destructive... like, self-destructive. And I don't want to lose you. Because I love you."

I was completely taken off guard by this. I just mumbled stupidly, "Uh, okay, maybe," and left before we had a chance to discuss the matter further. Perhaps that was a mistake.

Writing about it now I'm really touched by her concern for me. However I'm ashamed to admit that, at the time, I was in such a foul mood that I was mostly just annoyed. It bothered me that she assumed I was in a state of crisis, which I don't feel I am. I'm not really questioning my identity: I identify as trans. I'm quite certain about that part.

All in all though, I'm very, very blessed to have parents who care so much about me. It's important I don't lose sight of that.

Christmas in the closet

The past two months have been a time of very rapid progress for me. In a short amount of time I've advanced from peering out of the closet to taking my first tentative steps into the world as my real (female?) self. And I felt comfortable as me, and it was like fresh air and sunshine.

And then, with its great clattering of tacky songs, comes Christmas. Suddenly I am hurled back into the suffocating darkness of the closet. The door is shut and latched, and I am forced to contend once more with the absurd fact of hiding my identity from people I love.

This is because, of course, all the progress I made stopped short of coming out to my parents.

In my previous post I wrote of walking to the grocery store and buying lunch as a girl. That day also happened to be the first time I spent an entire day as a girl, which was lovely. I hoped that with all that girl-time my gender might stop bothering me for a while and I decided to be a boy the next day. But it was just as difficult as ever, and this more or less confirmed for me that I will probably have to socially transition.

A couple days later I was a girl again. This time I put gas in my car, got a bunch of groceries, talked to the cashier with my first attempt at a female voice, and went Christmas shopping at an antique store. What I've learned from all this is that either I pass, or people in general don't give a shit about crossdressers— and to be honest, the latter sounds more likely— because no one gave any signs that anything was out of the ordinary.

Christmas is a huge deal in my family, and in general I actually enjoy it. We had our celebration early, on the 22nd, because my brother and his wife, (henceforth known as Carson and Jamey), were planning on spending the 25th with her family. My family always spends the day before Christmas together as well, which meant two days of pretending to be a boy. And not the effeminate boy I usually look like when I'm presenting male either, but a "typical" boy.

And so Christmas was fun, but it was also hard. It helped a lot having Carson and Jamey there, as they at least know about me. After we finished unwrapping the presents Jamey nudged me to follow her down the hall and gave me a small container of makeup from MAC: a clandestine Christmas gift. It wasn't much, but what it meant— an affirmation of my gender at a time when that's exactly what I needed— was huge. I ended up having to lock myself in the bathroom until I stopped crying, silly me! Sometimes the tears are just one more thing you have to hide...

I went home that evening thinking I had made it through a Christmas in the closet. But as I mentioned, we did Christmas early. And since I was still in town over the 24th and 25th, my parents suggested I spend those days at their house too. I didn't have a good reason not to, and resigned myself to continue the charade.

On the 23rd my brother and his wife were making the ten hour drive to visit her family in British Columbia. Someone turning left onto the highway didn't see them coming and pulled out just in time to cause an accident. My brother texted me from the ambulance. No one involved seemed to be seriously hurt, but they were going to the hospital just to be sure. Their car, however, was totalled. In the end Jamey had some minor whiplash, but that was the only injury. They actually made it to their destination that same night, somewhat later than intended. Carson asked me not to tell mom and dad about this incident, and I understood why: we all know my father is a chronic worrier. Still, this meant one more secret to keep.

Their car. Yikes...

The next day I returned to my parent's house. And even though I love my parents, I hated being around them. I'm very bad at pretending to be happy when I'm not. After two days of this they were fairly certain that there was something wrong with me that I was keeping from them. I would have liked to have said, "Relax guys, I'm just trans, it's not a big deal." But I was in no emotional state to have that whole conversation, so I left with the source of my malaise still (mostly) unknown.*

They've been pretty worried about me since then.

The ironic thing is that, with the exception of the last few days, I've actually been doing very well lately. I am, in general, happier than I've been in a long time— taking the first small steps toward living in the right gender has a way of doing that, I suppose. But of course that's not the part of me they saw. How could they have?

I suppose I ought to come out to them, and soon. Not just for my sake anymore, but for theirs too. It's unkind of me to let them worry so much when there's really nothing wrong. I'm kind of annoyed to have had my hand forced in this way, but I guess that's life. And in any event, I've been thinking about telling them for a long time.

I hope all goes well when I do.



* My mom did pick up on a hint that it was gender-related, but I won't go into that now because this post is already really long.