I once heard that family arguments are never about the subject of the argument. That would mean the argument about my dad drinking was not about his consumption of alcohol. But rather he disobeyed her when she told him to stop drinking. In other words it was all about control.
Some of this stuff gets very confusing. When feminine panties ended up in my laundry, my mother made some comment that they looked nice. When I grew my hair long, nothing was said. When I pierced my ears, it was men wear earrings. When my denim shirt got a bleach burn in the washing machine, she cut a red heart out of a iron on patch to repair it.
I had been going to therapy and one day someone else was there, I was told that masturbation was proof that I enjoyed being a man, and was not transgender. The therapist controlled the estrogen and surgeries, but did not control what I wore or which restroom I used.
At one point a rumor went around about me seeking a sex change operation. My mother heard the rumor and I had to explain things. I was not wearing makeup or lipstick, that was the natural color of my lips, all it takes is a ChapStik to make it look like I have lipstick. I only put clear nail polish on my nails. When asked about my wanting surgery I said I had thought about it. I was told that I better think about it for a long time.
I figured fifty years should be long enough. I had been wearing a woman's ring and forgot to take it off before going downstairs to the kitchen. My mother grabbed my hand, looked at the ring and slapped my face. She never said a word as I went back upstairs. I guess that was when I detransitioned, boxed everything up until I would be allowed to transition again.
Some time later I was again at a therapist, when I mentioned that I wanted to move out. I said that I was afraid my mother would move in with my. The therapist said don't let her. I never did mention that my mother gets physically abusive, the only way to avoid the abuse is to avoid conflict.
Michelle
