It's not so much that I'm fearful of their response, it's, well a bit of a story.
Okay, so like I said, I first considered I might be transgender in November of last year, and by January I was pretty certain I was, and I wanted to come out, but it was so hard for me to even try and get the words out, but I kept feeling the want to do so.
So, one day that month, I honestly don't know how I did it, but me and my father were in the kitchen together, he was making dinner, and, I told him. I didn't exactly do the greatest job, it wasn't exactly the typical conversation and it only lasted like five minutes.
But I went to tell him, and I couldn't just say it, so I asked if he remembered that movie my Grandmother loved from last year, the Danish Girl, and he didn't at first, but I reminded him, and then I said how I felt I was transgender, and well he was confused, he literally said so, and I'm saying about how it means I'm really a woman, and well not much else was said after a bit more of that, which I was perfectly fine with, I was like having a major panic attack over the fact that I actually told him.
The only other thing said that night was he said how he knows I like girls, and I told him I still do. Then that was it. And like I said still being in the residual effects of the panic attack I was just fine with waiting a bit to talk more. So I figured he'd bring it up again in like a day or so, maybe even the next morning, I was just to nervous to bring it back up myself.
But in the end, a month went by, and I finally just went and asked him if he remembered what I told him that day in the kitchen. And he had no idea what I was talking about.
Now, I have always had pretty much complete ->-bleeped-<- self esteem, and this just basically destroyed the last shred I had left. I mean what kind of father forgets their kid telling them something like that? No matter how ->-bleeped-<- a job I did in doing so.
But my mouth seemed to be going on autopilot trying to remind him and in the end he's like, oh yeah, and he remembered, but because I'm an idiot, I went, Yeah I was wrong about that, my depression made me feel things that weren't real.
And I don't really recall what he said then, it was either, okay, or of course, or right, I really don't know, it was some one or two word response.
Before that happened I was while scared of coming out, I was actually looking forward to after, even with my family around. I mean not completely looking forward with them around, but I actually was at some level. Ever since that day though, the very thought of them knowing, of being around while I went through it absolutely petrifies me.
Hell, even the idea of writing a note, or like if I was drunk, which would never happen, hate alcohol, but if I was and told them like that, or any other number of thing, it all fills me with the same fear. Hell, the only way it wouldn't is if some random person told them without me having any idea they were going to, lol...
But yeah.
