When something seems to good to be true, it usually is. I should have realised that when I came out to my parents and they seemed so accepting. Sadly things have now escalated to the point where I won’t be able to see them – or speak to them – anymore. Not until things get better. Not until Mum gets tired of playing the Blame Game, which might well take a while.
So what did I do?
- Mum and Dad apparently had a rotten holiday and that is my fault. For coming out to them as transgender.
- I am a selfish and egoistical person for coming out to them when I did.
- When I have something in my head, I have no regard for others’ feelings and trample on their souls to get my way.
That basically sums it up. That’s pretty vicious, if you ask me. And it’s not the first time she’s treated me this way. As long as I live up to her expectations, all is fine. I’ve been living a lie for decades, just to keep the peace. Should I have continued the lie, just to keep her happy? And if so, does she realise this might eventually have killed me?
Does she realise that her behaviour only serves to alienate me from her? That it makes me feel rejected for who I am? Does she really love me, or does she just love the image she has of me? The false image of a perhaps rather eccentric and masculine daughter, but a daughter all the same.
Incidentally, she also said she and Dad will never call me by my chosen name. Never. How’s that for rejection? And guess what? I simply cannot cope with that kind of rejection. No-one should ever have to feel rejected by their parents. Much less should anyone have to feel rejected by their parents for simply wanting to be themselves.
Oh, I know the theology. God gave them a daughter and not a son, and therefore I am not allowed to get adequate treatment for my gender dysphoria. I get that. And it’s a very misguided and cruel theology.
God gave me a daughter. She was born with multiple congenital defects. Yes, defects. The worst of them was undoubtedly that her brainstem had not fully developed. So you see, God had not created a perfect little human being, but rather a severely disabled little girl who had to live her short life suffering in ways no-one should have to suffer.
Now, according to the theology that prohibits me from getting adequate medical treatment for my gender dysphoria (which is after all a congenital condition), my husband and I should have refrained from getting our little girl adequate medical treatment for her myriad of medical issues, which all stemmed from her birth defects. And you know what would have happened then? She’d have died before she was even one day old.
So forgive me if I don’t give a dog’s shit about that kind of theology. It’s misguided, it’s cruel and potentially life threatening. I want nothing to do with a god who shows his supposed love for the people he created in this evil way. There, I said it. And I won’t take it back either. My God is a loving God. My God is fine with my choice to transition, because transitioning might very well save my life.
With that out of the way, I’ll now address the accusations Mum made against me.
- The spoilt holiday – While it is true that my timing was far from perfect, it was not my coming out that ruined their holiday. Rather, it was their reaction to it. And maybe Mum’s guilt for the huge row she had with my uncle shortly before he died. None of which was my fault.
- My selfishness and egoism – Dictionary.com defines egoism as follows: “Yes, as I already allowed above, my timing was far from perfect. But as I explained in a previous post the perfect time would never come and it was becoming ever more necessary for me to step out of the cupboard. I waited for as long as I could, but in the end I just had to bite the bullet and tell them. That’s no egoism. That’s self-preservation. There’s a difference between those two.
“, and selfish as follows: “ ” These two terms are pretty much interchangeable, and do not pertain to me.
- The “When I have something in my head, I have no regard for others’ feelings and trample on their souls to get my way” argument. – What can I say? That’s just total bollocks, and she obviously has no idea. As far as I can tell, I’ve always been the most compliant of the three of us (my sisters and me). I was fucking scared of Mum. She could loose her temper at the drop of a hat and then all hell broke loose. I’d rather keep my head down and not be noticed than risk a walloping.
However, sometimes there would be things that were so important to me, that I stood my ground. Even if that meant punishment. And yes, I would go berserk when I got beaten for simply being true to myself for once. If that makes me guilty of trampling on people’s souls, then so be it. I never claimed to be perfect. My being able to be open about my gender identity is a pretty big thing. I think I have the right to finally stand up for myself about my being transgender. It’s bloody been fifty years. Not even Harry Potter had to live in the cupboard for that long.
And now? I honestly don’t know. It’s Mum’s 80th birthday today, and I could not visit her. I wanted to go. I’d been looking forward to it. And now, with her blaming me, with her attacks on my person and her rejection of who I am, I’ve had to choose to stay home. That’s a rotten choice, made worse by the fact that I feel unable to talk to her over the phone at the moment. She’d be calling me by my given name, and I wouldn’t be allowed to correct her. I wouldn’t be allowed to talk about my being transgender. In fact, I wouldn’t be allowed to talk about anything that might upset her. So I’d have to play pretend. Again.
I played with the idea of sending her flowers but had to reject that too. I’d have had to sign the card with my given name. The name I’ve hated my entire life.
I wish there were another way, but if there is, I don’t see it. I just cannot win. So I’m stuck waiting for her to stop making me all those accusations and to finally really accept me for who I am. I can only hope she loves me enough to do so before it’s too late. The next move is on her.