So, I told my dad and my brother that I am going to transition.
There was the expected silence, and then I waffled a little more to fill in the silence, not entirely sure what I was saying but I knew I was rambling. And then I asked if they had anything to say.
My dad said, "It's your life and I wouldn't dream of trying to tell you how to live it. Do whatever makes you happy."
My brother said nothing, but I did notice he suddenly found the rugby on the television rather fascinating. So I said, "You're very quiet. What are you thinking?"
And he turned to me and had a go at my husband, blaming him. That was totally unexpected and, I think, a little unfair. Admittedly, while I was considering moving out - thinking about splitting from my husband - I did talk to my brother about it. I've moaned about things my husband has said and done in the past, and so it's more than likely my fault that my brother now has a lower opinion of my husband than I'd like. But my brother's words were pretty venomous. Not what I was expecting at all. He blew up, spouted a load of hurtful stuff and stormed out of the room.
I decided not to go after him, having realised that it was probably better to give him some space. My dad said, "Give it time; he'll be alright." Then he told me it's going to take a while for him (my dad) to get used to it, too. He said he wanted to apologise up front in case he still calls me by my old name occasionally, because it's going to be a hard habit to break.
My brother returned and repeated what he'd said previously and then he left the house. My dad and I stared at each other for a while and then we started talking. Initially about my plans to transition and then onto other things. My dad talked about my childhood and how he'd noticed plenty of times that I was never really a girl and how it all kind of makes sense really although he will never fully understand it. He said that all he ever wanted for his kids was for them to be happy and then he talked about his own childhood; about how his parents fought all the time but that they loved each other madly and they loved their children. We did a lot of reminiscing and then he reiterated that he wants me to be happy, before I decided it was time to leave.
I haven't seen my brother since that day. I don't really know how long to leave it before I approach him. But I did receive a message from him where he apologised for the words he'd used. I replied to say it was fine (which it wasn't really but that wouldn't have helped) and that I thought he should concentrate on himself and his family and forget about me for a while. He replied to say it was just a lot to take in. And I suppose that's exactly it. It is a lot to take in. It's a lot to process. I've had forty years to come to terms with what I am and what I was going to do about it. It's only in the last three years, give or take, that I've actually thought that I could do something about it.
People around me have known, to varying degrees, and for varying lengths of time, what I am. But now that I'm actually doing something about it, from their point of view I suppose it's a major shock, and they're facing a new reality that they never expected. It's just that, from my point of view, that happened the wrong way around. I expected my brother to be the one who said, "Fine; go for it." I expected my father to not understand and to be upset and to reject what I said. But to have my father say it's fine and my brother to storm away, well, that was unexpected.
7 Comments
Recommended Comments