The following is the coming out letter that I read to my boys 15 months ago.....
Dear Sons,
This is by far the most difficult letter I've ever had to write, because I'm going to share with you a truth about myself...a truth that I have tried to hide from you for my whole life. I'm sorry that I didn't have the trust in you over the years to open myself up to you. It's a trust that I believe, as wonderful sons, you deserved. As your father I feared rejection...and as the both of you grew older I feared hurting and disappointing you. I realize that deep relationships must stand on truth. The hiding is over; I am placing my love and trust in you now.
I'm sure by now you're wondering what the hell this is all about...so here goes. For as far back as I can remember, I have struggled with a secret that I tried so desperately to hide – A very deep primordial feeling that I am a girl and I should have been born a girl.
Knowing this would hurt you; and, throughout your life's, I tried so hard to hide this from you and I tried hard to make you proud of me. Without going into detail, there were many, many times during my childhood that I would dress as, and imagine being, a girl. When I was a teenager and young adult hanging out with my friends, and when we saw a beautiful girl, they would outwardly express how much they wanted to "be with" her, while inside I was secretly – ever so desperately – wishing I could "be" her. Despite my efforts to deny them, these feelings have followed me all my life – through my childhood, my teenage years, adulthood, and my marriage to your mom. They have not diminished as I have grown older; in fact, the feelings have only become stronger and desperate as the years have passed.
All through my life, the thought that someone would "find out about me," scared the crap out of me; and I worked very hard to keep my secret hidden. I wanted so desperately to have your approval and the acceptance of those around me that I became a master of hiding my secret and building a facade of "maleness" around me. My career choice, my marriage, and the both of you – I did everything that I could do to reinforce to the world that I was a "guy." I also distanced myself from the people who knew me best to minimize the likelihood that someone would discover my secret. Wherever possible, I set up barriers to prevent myself from being able to act upon what I was feeling inside. To a degree, I was successful...but, like the feelings, the secret was always there.
When I was growing up, I thought I was the only person in the world in such a dilemma. It wasn't until later in life that I learned that there are others like me. I learned that there is a name for my condition – Gender Identity Disorder (GID). It is characterized by a pervasive, life-long identity with the opposite gender. This mismatch between sex and gender identity which will lead to distressing and uncomfortable feelings. This is called gender dysphoria. Gender dysphoria is a recognized medical condition. It is not a mental illness.
As I have grown and learned more about myself and my condition, I have become more accepting of this part of myself. More than that, as time has marched on, I have begun to feel more and more compelled to adjust my life to relieve the emotional discomfort and depression that is caused by the tension between who I am...inside...and how I present myself to the rest of the world. Not wanting to disrupt both of your life's with "my issues," I decided long ago to forgo doing anything about this until you were old enough to understand. Please understand that I love you both very much – you've both have been wonderful addition to my life, but with my health on the decline, I felt like my hope of someday dealing with my issues where evaporating. The world closed in on me; and I became very depressed. On a few occasions, I had thoughts of suicide. I felt trapped...I still do.
Despite years of hiding, I had to do something – now. I had to finally face this part of myself and I had to find someone to discuss it with. While searching on-line for answers, I stumbled upon someone on-line – a transgendered girl living in Oklahoma – whose biography read like my life, right down to being born a boy; playing ball; marrying; having children; and divorcing. Here was someone who I could relate to. Here was someone I could contact, anonymously over the web, with no fear of my secret "getting out." I contacted her via e-mail address and began an on-going friendship. Over a number of weeks, I began to feel a little better about who I am. I also began to realize that denial of my true self would continue to drive me deeper into depression. Like me, she had experienced the same stresses of self-denial and the same fears of discovery. Like me, her feelings had led her into deep depression and thoughts of suicide. I've seen several psychologists and therapist to help accept who I am. Thus, I resolved to stop living the lie and begin the process of changing my life.
After reaching this conclusion, I decided that I needed to share my secret with someone who knew me. That person would be someone who had known me for a long time, who I could call and talk to, and, yet, who was far enough away removed from my life that they could not adversely affect my life, my timetable, and my plans if my revelation was poorly received. I needed to talk to someone "safe" who knew "me." Heidi, my first girlfriend, fit the description. Over the years, we have kept in touch, mostly through occasional e-mails, acting as a sounding board for each other and, generally, being supportive of each other in times of personal difficulty. I selected her as my "safe" person.
I called Heidi to tell her. Next to this letter, it was the most difficult thing I've ever done. This was the first time I ever verbalized my secret to another person. Despite years of soul searching therapy and coming to grips with my condition, I physically trembled when I told her. My guts were in a knot as the words escaped my mouth. After a moment of silence that I thought lasted forever, her response was just amazing...no rejection, no ridicule, or anything even remotely negative. Her actual response was, "well it all makes sense now." I guess, I was not as good at hiding my secret as I thought I had been. Even though she did not outright know, or even suspect, there were a lot of confusing signals between us during our relationship, which, in this new context, now made sense to her. I was surprised and incredibly relieved with her response. At last I could discuss my secret with someone who was completely understanding and supportive. We spoke for hours that night and – over the past few years – we've spoken many times since. She continues to be very supportive and understanding; she is a true friend.
My next step was a lot less "safe." I had to tell your mom. I revealed my secret to her. I didn't give her the benefit of my trust; and I will always regret that I didn't. Despite all that has happened between us, I really do love her. She is a very sweet, caring, and loving person – and a terrific mother. I truly regret the pain that I have caused her.
After many years counseling, I know that this isn't a "phase"; in fact, just the opposite is true. My condition is such that the years of denial and depression weigh heavily and have taken their toll on me. This does not go away.
Since telling her, I have shared my secret with a select handful of people that I have grown to trust and who I was sure would be accepting and supportive. With each revelation, I've become more confident and comfortable with this part of me. It doesn't scare me as much as it once did.
I have been to therapists and on line support groups. I continue to see a therapist even now. I have learned a lot, and made some wonderful friends with others like myself. This was another frightening step to take. Before taking that step, I envisioned a pathetic world populated by the sort seen on The Jerry Springer show....drag entertainers, prostitutes. Instead I found caring people from all walks of life struggling with the same secret I felt so alone with for all my life. I now count among my friends other transgendered people who are physicians, pilots, engineers, computer programmers, police officers, university professors, lawyers, and people from every walk of life who are wonderful, kind, supportive, and caring people from all over the world.
I am absolutely certain that my gender identity is that of a female. I know this is a terrific shock to you, and I am so very sorry for the pain this must cause you. It is not something I have been able to face for over 50 years. Now that I realize that this doesn't "go away"...it's who I am. I have to come to terms with it; I can no longer live within this continuous tension. In recent years, through my contacts with professional counselors and with others, I have finally realized that I did not choose to be this way, and that despite the stigma placed it by society, it is not something to be ashamed of.
Be assured, this is not something whimsical. Obviously, there is a difference between the me that you've always known and the me that I have lived with all my life and feel I must to be true to now. This journey isn't easy to undertake, but it is something I know I must do. Luckily there are many resources available to help me. I'm sure that you will have a thousand questions; and, in time, I will try to answer them all.
Like I said, I've come to terms with it. I'm not shouting it from the rooftops, but I'm not ashamed either. I know it may take time, but I hope you will not be ashamed either. I have resources for you when you are ready for them. I realize too, that it may be some time before you will be ready to discuss this with me, and that is OK. I do understand. I have agonized a longtime over telling you this. It was so hard to write this, and I have held back for so long to spare you the pain I know you must be feeling. But, I do want you to be a part of my life. I will hope that we will find a place in our hearts to understand, love and support one another.
I will wait to hear from you. Take your time; this is a lot to digest. If, in the end, you are not able to find acceptance in your heart, I will understand. Like I said, it's taken more than 50 years for me to reach this point; it would be completely unrealistic to expect you to be able to immediately embrace any of it. I hope you eventually can find acceptance in your heart. I love you both.
All my love,
Dad
