So, I came out to my two closest relatives very recently: my sister (last weekend), and my dad (last night). I began writing this mostly to capture my thoughts while still in the moment, and decided to post in the chance it could help others who have yet to come out. Anyhow...here goes!
To start, my sister and I are only a year apart. We bounced between households twice weekly, making each other the only person we would live full-time with through high school. We're now several years removed from college, and still refer to each other as our best friend. So when I finally realized I needed to come out, I assumed she would not only be the easiest to speak to, but likely the least surprised (as she ended up putting it, "we were so much in each other's sh_t").
We spent Labor Day weekend in NYC with our mom, moving our youngest sister into her dorm for her first year at school. There was never a "plan" of sorts to talk, but maybe it was the (sometimes not-so) subtle reminders that I was the only boy in the group which motivated me on the ride home. We reached our dad's house, and began dragging our feet to part ways (myself, to my apartment; her to her boyfriend's).
We found ourselves settling slightly in the living room, and I finally breached, asking if she had any time-sensitive plans. Once I got the go-ahead, I explained the therapist I've been seeing is a gender therapist, and have felt increasingly gender dysphoric for as long as I can remember. I'm sure I missed her immediate reaction, since finding those words seems to destroy my eye contact, but she hardly appeared to raise her eyebrows, and calmly reassured me of her love and support. The rest of the conversation spanned well over an hour, and it's hard to recall exactly what we talked about (mostly how I would handle it/try to suppress my feelings; I would cycle through having stashes of girl's clothes in my room; what my plans were, and if I had a timetable; intermittent jokes, like she still gets to be the first girl born in our generation). When we eventually split, I was able to leave on a high...I finally told the closest person to me my biggest secret. We have spoken a couple times since, in person and on the phone, and though I feel like I'm going to be a burden, it's very fortunate to have her in my corner.
Last night, however, was the first coming out I felt genuinely sick over. It was equally impromptu, only having the goal to speak with my dad by the end of the week. I offered to pick up a pizza on the way to his house, and the three of us (sister lives at home) ate in our finished basement, reminiscent of our weekly ritual every Thursday night through high school. I kept finding myself staring off listlessly, switching between my food and the side of the television, until our dad gravitated upstairs. My sister and I had spoken earlier about why I was coming over- so when he left, I explained I felt this would go easier if it were him and myself. It felt stressful that she couldn't be a part of that conversation; not for myself, but concern she would be distressed being left out of the loop, if only for a moment. She assured me it was alright, and I moved upstairs.
My dad was sitting in front of the computer, about to begin some work, when I asked if he had a moment. He put his folder down, and waited as I pulled up a chair. Like with my sister, it took me a moment of difficult eye-contact to find the words "I've always felt I should have been born a girl." (I'm not sure why this point bothers me so much, that my eyes dart away from whoever I'm speaking with, when the words I have to say are so meaningful to me.)
His facial expression, however, didn't change at all, which was more concerning, and added a level of suspense I don't think I was ready for. I was less sure of how he'd react. Deep down, I've always had the feeling he would love and support me regardless, but it doesn't shake away the fear of disappointing a father who's given so much for his kids. After carefully asking what I meant, we started the first of many moments of silence. They were broken by somewhat ignorant, if not gentle, questions and comments (such as "are you sure you're not gay," "have you considered seeing someone else along with this 'gender' therapist," "something doesn't seem right, something's missing"). And he admitted they were likely ignorant things to say, and that it was very likely denial fueling his thought process.
He doesn't have any personal experience in the LGBTAQ community, so it was easy to give him as many mulligans as necessary, since everything he had to say was out of genuine care and concern. It was, however, still upsetting to hear him vocalize his inner monologue ("on the one hand, you had girls clothes/on the other, you aren't gay"). I eventually broke down a bit, because it feels like the one thing that I, personally, am missing, is the "hard proof" validation of my gender dysphoria. My dad said its hard to handle, because he always thought I was such a happy kid; my sister only ever caught a couple of my slipups, and beyond that, never saw any sort of behavioral traits to indicate something was up.
I continuously remind myself that the people we're closest to are the most acclimated to our behavior...if there are any clues to an underlying issue that rests outside the norm, its easier for these loved ones to discard them as aberrations. But the greater message? I've finally told the two closest people in my life my biggest secret, the 'thing' I've exhausted so much energy trying to keep hidden. They listened to me, support me, and they love me.
...shoulda done this years ago.
