So yesterday I came out to my manager and told her that I'm going to transition and she's thrilled to have another woman in the department. I come out to my laser hair removal spa of two years to wonderful cheers from the ladies there. I go halloween costume shopping for like the first time in my life and get to try on all the great outfits I always wished I could, even though I was dressed about as masculinely as I can these days - which just got me gushing compliments on my suit. The shop gets a lot of lesbians apparently. All of it involved just chirping away and finding acceptance and happiness.
I try to tell my mother, because we are not very close and she feels removed from my life. I start telling her the details and she interrupts me with a disapproving glare and tells me that my eyebrows are too small and that I need to let them be bushier and closer together. She tells me this every few weeks.
I told her that I informed her two years ago that I felt like a woman and wanted to be one, and she has continued to use Tom Sellack, Tom cruise, Sean Connery, and other famous men as examples of why I need to have gigantic bushy eyebrows.
I told her that we always get into a fight about it and that we disagree and I wish she would understand that I do not want a man's eyebrows and it's not relevant. She goes on and on about how important and necessary it is to show expression and about her childhood trauma about eyebrows (her mother plucked hers or something, I don't even know) and bursts into tears yelling that it's the only thing in my life she can talk to me about.
You stupid, goddamn bitch, I'm spilling out serious life details to you and you interrupt me to fixate on my eyebrows and tell me you're not involved in my life. If you would just shut the hell up and actually listen to my father and me instead of doing the talking for the entire family, maybe we would actually give a ->-bleeped-<- and try to hold a conversation with you. As is, you hold them with yourself sufficiently.
I'm beyond angry because she always does it. Always. Any time I start to tell her about my life she interrupts me to tell me about ->-bleeped-<- like groceries or other stupid things. IF YOU WANT TO BE A PART IN MY LIFE, THEN PARTICIPATE IN IT. How about you ask me questions or talk about me, instead of telling me some unrelated story about some bitch you knew in college that has absolutely nothing to do with anything in my life.
Just, argh. I cannot even begin to imagine the damage you have done to my father's opinion of women over the years.
