Here's my story, as of May 15th (today):
Due to the wind blowing a piece of paper (my T prescription) out of my car without me seeing it - and my dad subsequently finding it on the lawn - I have been unceremoniously and unexpectedly outed to my family. I am moving to another state in about a month, and I had planned on telling them then, so now our household is in an extremely awkward state of existence where I am dead to my parents and doing my best to stay out of their way - and yet I'm still physically here for another month. My father's heart is broken, and my mother thinks I'm condemning myself to Hell.
Since being outed, I've come to realize that this is one of - if not the - most selfish things I could possibly do, and this is why. For the last 16 years, my parents have been taking care of my handicapped sister. She is not at a societally-functionable mental level, and she needs constant care and attention. My parents are relatively old; my dad is 60, and my mom is 56. They both want to retire in about 5 years - although with my younger sister to care for and my college bills to pay, it's questionable that they'll be able to do so. They will have to (and plan on) take care of my sister for the rest of their functioning lives. Taking care of her is extremely taxing and has undoubtedly contributed to my mother's severe depression. She also has high cholesterol levels (and a family history of death by heart attacks), and I'm afraid that she'll have heart problems in the future. My father is physically strong, but he's 60 and has been injured in the past, and his family has a history of Alzheimer's and other mental problems related to age.
They have no children other than my sister and I. Up until Monday (also known as "That G*dd*mn Day I Left The Car Window Open"), I was a child they could be proud of. I've always gotten good grades in school, and I'm going to a highly-ranked university in the fall. Along with school, I work to support myself, and I've been in many acceptable extracurriculars. Up until Monday, I was the one who "made it", the good daughter who was going to _______ in the fall and was probably going to enter their work field and follow in their footsteps (they have the same profession) - but even if I didn't, that was okay, because I was the "normal" daughter - the one who's toilet-trained and can function in crowded rooms without collapsing to the floor and banging her head against the wall. "At least we had one kid who turned out right." Up until Monday, when their dreams were crushed. By me (accidently, but still by me). I ruined one of the things they were most proud of - that they had turned out one "normal", successful, reasonably well-adjusted kid.
And I killed that. By transitioning, I am consciously breaking my parents' hearts. I am making them feel as though they failed at being good parents. I am making the decision to fill a good portion of (if not the rest of) their lives with disappointment, anxiety, and despair. I am killing the dream that one day they might watch their daughter graduate, get married, have grand-kids - the normal, healthy life that parents want for their kids. And they don't deserve that. For 18 years, my parents have supported me, encouraged me, and provided me with necessities and luxuries. And how am I thanking them? I'm running off to another state and robbing them of the person they've loved for 18 years - I'm robbing my dad of being able to walk his daughter down the aisle, my mom of playing with her grandkids.
It's not fair. This shouldn't happen to two hard-working, long-suffering, decent people who've only ever done what they thought was best for their children - no matter their own financial, mental, and emotional costs. Two parents who have never done anything wrong now have a handicapped child who's going to burden them into old age and a child who is willingly disfiguring and making things difficult for herself and abandoning the family values. And I'm making it happen, and it's breaking my heart.
I hate this. I hate that I'm still going to do it, and I hate that I'm hurting them. I never wanted to hurt anyone.
This is just a rant. After all, there's no one better to tell personal agonies to than a group of strangers. I guess you have to be selfish to transition - to do a lot, for that matter.