I told my mother technically at age 3...that I didn't want it anymore. That I whined when I didn't get a Barbie from Santa. That I was a girl on my tests, that my report card said if I wasn't sure (haha, I was sure!) "that [name] is a boy", when my day was made doing/reading/acting female roles for the play I was in, and in school.
But she really got the true message at 16, January 24th, 2009. I had just gotten back from Washington DC, to see Obama sworn in. Given I had a special ticket from a state senator, plus a local news interview after, cool times. But what really I remember most, go figure. First night, after they divide us up between male and female (much as I really wanted to go with the other girls, I had worry of what would happen if I did). As soon as all of the other girls leave..."WE'RE ALL MEN HERE, RIGHT?" Raucous roars in response, aside from me, like lions after seeing the fresh steak for lunch. It didn't, still doesn't, seem real. Felt out of a movie, as if to represent my internal struggles, with the slow gliding motion memories I remember the boys responding with. Instead, I quivered in fear, with a sadly, sick, if worried, face. That was the point I realized I had to actually do something more, or I'd be going through this hell more, even aside from puberty, which I might add was basically just starting for me.
So, I'm back with my mother, and I want to tell her the previous day, January 23rd, but I get scared, not because of them, but because I fear the worst, as I do in basically any scenario. The day turns to Sunday, as I sit in the car, and tell her something is bothering me, stresses me out a lot, and so on. As the thankfully concerned mother she is, she wants to know what. I have her guess, and she guesses gay and bi, likely since I hadn't ever dated another girl before. I eventually tell her that I'm female, and she lets out an, "Oh. Okaaayy." Big weight off my shoulders, obviously, and she suggests telling my father, and does so. I go in after her, to get a sausage breakfast burrito and apple juice, to calm myself down, to my success.
Her reaction? Well, she originally want to give me testosterone boosters, not out of meanness, but to think it would help. Also thought the surgery was a "mutilation" and that I'd make an ugly girl. I honestly had no reaction to the latter, because frankly, I didn't care. As I reasoned it immediately, "I'd rather be an ugly girl, than any kind of guy." Also encouraged me to do it older (like 29) before doing anything, and I couldn't imagine waiting that long. Also told me to try sex with a[nother] girl. Eww, no thanks, that just sounded not cool, unless I was the girl, with a guy.
But, she just had to learn more, as she has said, and she became an extremely huge advocate, promoting me to do work, to be more open, glad I'm doing the documentary I'm in, working with well known families of transitioning youth, and so on. My father was the same way, just a huge advocate of it all, like my mother was, and still is. She realizes now, and regrets that she missed earlier, obvious signs, and that had I been born more recently, there's no doubt she'd have handled things differently, that I'd have been on blockers, and so on. Well, whatever, I forgive her, she's admitted wrong for all she could, with the benefit of retrospection. Not to mention, testosterone barely grazed me (if only in very small facial hair growths, nothing else), visually, and didn't do anything voice wise to me. Of all things, estrogen did more there for me. Aside from emotional impact, meh, no difference, and I still started rather young, and feel I got really good results from hormones.
I can't ask for a better mom as I transition...we discuss girly things, enjoy talk about actors and guys we have crushes on, shopping trips to the mall, talking about one another's outfits, see the ballet together, how we feel about lesbian crushes (haha, we're both straight, so not much), etc. It's amazing what a mother-daughter rapport we have in what we do, so special. I realize this is fortunate, and I am thankful every day for it. My sisters are the same way, just see me as their big sister. Gosh, I love my family, difficult as they may be at times. Just us four gals. It's a wonderful thing, where I honestly don't remember anything about a guy...it all seems blurry and impossible to comprehend in my mind. So if there's a hard place with you and family right now, just know, it's never easy on them at first, but it can absolutely turn around for the best.
