I’m hosting a game on Facebook that no one is quite sure I’m playing. I’m leaving hints. Any posts I make are all related to Female -> Male. I’m enjoying myself, and that’s all that matters. Mostly close friends all know now.
Family however is TRICKY.
I had to come out to my biological dad over Facebook. We’re not always on good terms. I could really care less about what he thinks or does…but the saint that is my betrothed is forcing me to stay civil. So, for the wedding, I decided it would be good for him and that part of my family to know who I am.
There are many ways and words I could use to describe my dad. Supportive is not one of them. However he is strong. While he did take it upon himself to kidnap my brother and I and lie to the court about my mom’s capabilities of being able to care for us after the divorce was finalized…he was able to support us. He took the responsibility of raising us and we were fed, clothed, and had a roof over our head.
Most of the time, we lived with family. Most of the time, it wasn’t food that was healthy for us. We never saw our dad because he worked to pay back the family that was helping us survive. But he got the job done. But when you raise a child, it’s not as easy as The Sims needs meters…There’s a SOCIAL aspect too.
**EDIT: At this point I went on a rant and deleted it. This wasn’t meant for me to gripe and bitch about how I don’t like him, however true that may be. Here are the FACTS.
- I had restrictions on the color choices and gender of clothing.
- No boxers, despite the fact I got and wore them anyways
- No black clothes, because it implied I was Satanic and/or depressed (ACCORDING TO THE SCHOOL whom informed my parents of their assumptions)
- More blouses, less T-shirts, and less/no choice of what the clothes looked like.
- No attempt at communication
- Dad set up a therapy appointment to find out what “makes [me] tick”. Instead of listening and trying to understand. Because he spends more time telling me his expectations than caring about what I think of those expectations
- Due to frequent moves across the united states because my dad wanted to desperately to raise us, I have the social adequacy of a slice of bacon in the middle of a vegan restaurant.
- Basically, if you want to know how I’m feeling you have to drill and ask questions and be fucking relentless. Otherwise I will answer you “Great!” “Fine!” “Not much!”. I share my feelings with no one. Not even my Cutie waifu.
- No physical presence
- Even if he was a communication expert, the fact is he was never at home and always at work.
- Time spent together was usually me being scolded for:
- Not cleaning something, complaining about my step-brothers for a NUMBER of things, being online/computer, something I wrote to a friend in a private note stashed under my bed…
I wish I could be making the last set of bullets up. But these are most of the memories I have with my dad are him or step-mom being angry at me for not being adult enough. I was 16 when I moved out. From what I can remember, these behaviors started when I was probably 12. I was just…expected to be an adult because they weren’t around/at home as much as I was.
So. Needless to say. Things got a LOT better when I moved out. My life did a 180, I learned how to be responsible and to be held accountable at my level of competency. I was responsible for the same things a 16 year old should be responsible for. I hated it. I was tired of being an adult. But it helped me grow. It helped put me where I am today. It also gave my dad a lot of time to reflect…on me being a lesbian. *cough*
Some point after not talking to him for…years. We talked over Facebook and we built a little bridge. It’s a flimsy bridge on my end at least. But at least he was willing to try and understand. Even if I know he doesn’t like it. Which is still hurtful.
I didn’t want him to come to my wedding and expect me to be something that I’m not. I’m not wearing a dress. I’m not a girl. I’m not his daughter. He’s not walking me down the aisle or having a dance with me. I know this hurts because I’m the only girl among my siblings. But it’s hard for me to lie to my family. So I told him in the NICEST POSSIBLE WAY…that I’m trans.
That was a little over a week ago. My step-mom, who has been more supportive than my dad and more so since I’ve left home, sent me a message a day after saying that she supports me and dad is coping with it.
I am not surprised or upset.
I feel like people think I should be, but my relationship with my dad isn’t strong enough for me to care much more than just being nice to him over Facebook. He made sure I didn’t die and taught me how to be an adult starting first grade when my parents divorced. If he’s accepting, I’d be shocked. I may build a stronger bridge. If he avoids it and doesn’t come out for the wedding? I won’t be surprised or upset. Because that’s what he’s taught me to expect from him. He’s not a part of my life. And the moment he’s finally out, I can stop addressing my step-dad by his name…I try not to, but sometimes I feel that I have to clarify…
(Fun fact, to show their support, my mom and
stepdad watched a lot of LOGO tv and Big Gay Sketch Show…I love them.)
I’ll keep you posted on how my dad responds. If he does. We’ll see.
Expectations are set low so I’ll either be pleasantly surprised…or things will go as I expect.