So, I'm planning on coming out to my mother. Soonish, I hope/fear?
Wall of text. Sorry!
She knows I've struggled with depression and its ilk, and that there's at least one known cause that I specifically haven't told her about. She hasn't pushed me on this, and accepts that I may not want to talk to her about everything, especially where, for all she knows, it could be about her.
And, well, some of it kind of is. I think about being a disappointment to her, in all sorts of ways. That isn't a thing that's easy to talk about.
But, of course, there's also the gender thing.
Late last year, she noticed the after-effects of electro. I shrugged it off a couple of times and changed the subject. But she came back to it, out of concern I'm sure - "Is it eczema?", "Maybe it's an allergic reaction", "You should see a doctor". I got all tangled up, verbally, and managed to tell her something along the lines of "it's intentional" and, by my attitude, that there was something really awkward going on. There wasn't a good way to recover from fairly innocent questioning suddenly taking a turn for the serious.
In the uncomfortable following period, she asked, "Do you really think you could say anything that would surprise me?"
And that's... trying to be supportive, I think. But, well, yeah, I think this might be pretty surprising.
On a further occasion, she pressed further. "What was it that you couldn't say last time?", "Do you want me to guess?"
All amicable. But, wow, that's quite a question. There's this tantalising possibility that maybe she does know, that maybe this would be just a case of getting it in the open.
But if she doesn't, and has effectively prepared herself for some other imagined outcome, well, that's just going to make it worse for both of us.
I'll admit, I'm curious as to what she thinks might be going on*. But I think it has to be me that opens up.
I put her off. I said I'd explain, just not now. In the new year - yep, that's this year now - after Christmas and seeing family and so on was done, to avoid weirdness a bit.
With the above exchanges, there's an acknowledged secret now. Neither unspoken nor overt. I think I have to do this now, even if only because she will ask again.
I was sort of hoping to already be many months into hormones before I mentioned it. As though it being a fait accompli would make it easier. But, NHS waiting lists being what they are, that's not happened yet**.
I don't know how to say it.
When I spoke to my dad, I told him that I had myself referred to a gender identity clinic. The specifics have gone unsaid, even in conversations since. "I want to be a woman" is not a comfortable thing to say, though I know that this is understood between us. But then, I spoke to him when I did because I was going through a bit of a breakdown and couldn't plan a speech to save my life. And, fortunately for me, his partner works in a gender identity clinic, so I knew that he'd understand the idea.
I guess I'll say much the same thing again. I'm hoping she'll ask questions. I think I can answer questions.
My counsellor suggested that I should provide her with resources to learn about things. That feels particularly strange and impersonal. And I know that she knows the basic concept, and I know she knows how to use the internet!
I'm not totally certain how she'll take it.
We have a fairly good relationship, I think. And I think of her as a nice person.
But this is a big thing, an unusual thing.
It's been a while since she mentioned grandchildren, so I think she realises that's not going to happen anyway. It never was, though, whatever biology had to say. Maybe she's accepted my choice on that, or maybe it's just because I've been single for quite some time now.
She has told me, on many occasions, how glad she was when I was born that I was a boy. That she wanted that so much that she prepared herself for the opposite. But this, I believe, was about worry for my opportunities in life - that her early adulthood was difficult, and she preferred the idea of a child who had things easier than she did.
Similarly, I think (without evidence) that she was relieved when I brought a girlfriend home to meet her. Not because she would have disapproved if I was gay, but because that would imply that I would face more adversity than otherwise.
Transgender, female, lesbian - yeah, that's not what you'd choose for an easy life, and somehow that makes me feel I failed her hopes there, throwing away the advantages I had.
In an (even more) irrational way, I feel somehow that my rejection of maleness is somehow a slight against her. She gave birth to a boy, and here I am, spurning that. I know that doesn't make sense, but there you go.
And her husband, well. He's not the most progressive person. I'm not after his approval, but well, when I visit my mother, I visit him too.
Sometime soon, I figure I'll arrange a long dog walk.
Gets us away from the ears of others, away from her husband for long enough to talk. Gives a bit of pleasant distraction. Lets me escape afterwards, too, no matter how it goes. No being trapped for hours afterwards, making small talk in the aftermath of this bombshell.
I'm nervous as anything, but some small part of me will perhaps be glad to get this into the open.
* I don't think that I broadcast this unconsciously. I hope I don't. To me, the signs seem obvious - big, awkward, personal thing that is somehow related to facial skin irritation? I can't think of anything else that would connect the two, but then, I have insider knowledge. The only other comparable thing that could potentially be expected is my coming out as gay, but I'm pretty sure that's a non-starter, to the extent that she referred to me as "heterosexual" (and yeah, that was an odd choice of phrasing)! I mean, I suppose I am gay, but not in that way! (Even to me, pretty confusing to think about things in terms of gay/straight when ->-bleeped-<- is involved)
** I know I should be accelerating things myself, but that's a whole other thing.
