How not to treat your trusty Saturday evening babysitter
It is my choice, not yours, when to come out of the closet. It is never okay to trap me in a car, force me to out myself by asking me if I'm getting a "sex change," then drive me in circles for an hour telling me that I'm too young to make the decision to transition and that I shouldn't transition and that transitioning is wrong for me and that I need to do other things in my life first and...well, thank goodness you were there to cisplain things to me, huh? Or I would've gone and made a horrible decision and regretted it for the rest of my life!
Also never okay: telling me that "of course your mom didn't say anything against this, I think she probably just feels guilty and thinks it's her fault that you're deaf, so she's gonna support you no matter what you do. If you go kill someone, she'll be on the news making excuses for you." This crossed so many lines, I can't even count them all.
Or telling me that "I'm sure your brother and your mother are both accepting up-front, but somewhere in the back of their minds, they've gotta be thinking that, yeesh, this is my sister? This is my daughter? She's making a pretty big decision and she's going to regret it." (My retort: "no, they're thinking: this is my brother, this is my son. And I am there for him every step of the way.")
And what fantastic advice you're giving me--"spend time with people who don't agree with your 'choice' to transition," and thank you for reminding me that, of course, if I "hang out with a bunch of transgender people, they're going to be all for it." Well I don't see you hanging out with a group of your friendly neighborhood Nazis, Mr. Finklestein. Would that be because they'd be unaccepting and unsupportive of your Jewish identity? But don't you know, they could enlighten you about all the reasons that being Jewish is a bad, bad life choice. (Yes, I actually said all of this.)
This is also not "because I'm a lesbian." If you were paying attention, you might have noticed that, uh, I've brought my boyfriend over on several occasions while coming to babysit your kids (with permission) and introduced him to you as such. Just because I asked for the weekend off for Pride doesn't mean I'm a dyke--I was at Trans Pride.
Don't tell me I "need to go to college first and study this from an academic perspective before making any decisions." I'm pretty sure you didn't go to college and study the mechanics of being a heterosexual, cisgendered, cissexual male before deciding to be one. I can't focus on things like college right now, I need to transition first. And no, I'm not going to wait until I'm 40 to "gain more introspection," and if you think "the worst that can happen is you'll spend the next 20 years in the wrong body," you're grossly underestimating how miserable it is to be in my situation and not do anything about it.
And don't even start with "how do you know this is the right thing for you, or that you don't 'just' have BDD?" Well, that might have something to do with the 6 years of therapy I've been in, and spending my entire life identifying with femme males.
I'm starting T in a few weeks and was getting ready to come out to you and your wife at the same time, hoping to have a civil, educational conversation; provide you with books, websites and other resources; and help you explain this to your kids, who I've been babysitting for 4 years. I realize that "things in life don't always go as planned," (thanks for the reminder, dickwad), but I also know I have the right to decide when (and how) to out myself, if ever, to anyone. It's my identity, and as hard as you might try, you'll never be in charge of it.
Thank you for finally fucking dropping me off at home.
Also never okay: telling me that "of course your mom didn't say anything against this, I think she probably just feels guilty and thinks it's her fault that you're deaf, so she's gonna support you no matter what you do. If you go kill someone, she'll be on the news making excuses for you." This crossed so many lines, I can't even count them all.
Or telling me that "I'm sure your brother and your mother are both accepting up-front, but somewhere in the back of their minds, they've gotta be thinking that, yeesh, this is my sister? This is my daughter? She's making a pretty big decision and she's going to regret it." (My retort: "no, they're thinking: this is my brother, this is my son. And I am there for him every step of the way.")
And what fantastic advice you're giving me--"spend time with people who don't agree with your 'choice' to transition," and thank you for reminding me that, of course, if I "hang out with a bunch of transgender people, they're going to be all for it." Well I don't see you hanging out with a group of your friendly neighborhood Nazis, Mr. Finklestein. Would that be because they'd be unaccepting and unsupportive of your Jewish identity? But don't you know, they could enlighten you about all the reasons that being Jewish is a bad, bad life choice. (Yes, I actually said all of this.)
This is also not "because I'm a lesbian." If you were paying attention, you might have noticed that, uh, I've brought my boyfriend over on several occasions while coming to babysit your kids (with permission) and introduced him to you as such. Just because I asked for the weekend off for Pride doesn't mean I'm a dyke--I was at Trans Pride.
Don't tell me I "need to go to college first and study this from an academic perspective before making any decisions." I'm pretty sure you didn't go to college and study the mechanics of being a heterosexual, cisgendered, cissexual male before deciding to be one. I can't focus on things like college right now, I need to transition first. And no, I'm not going to wait until I'm 40 to "gain more introspection," and if you think "the worst that can happen is you'll spend the next 20 years in the wrong body," you're grossly underestimating how miserable it is to be in my situation and not do anything about it.
And don't even start with "how do you know this is the right thing for you, or that you don't 'just' have BDD?" Well, that might have something to do with the 6 years of therapy I've been in, and spending my entire life identifying with femme males.
I'm starting T in a few weeks and was getting ready to come out to you and your wife at the same time, hoping to have a civil, educational conversation; provide you with books, websites and other resources; and help you explain this to your kids, who I've been babysitting for 4 years. I realize that "things in life don't always go as planned," (thanks for the reminder, dickwad), but I also know I have the right to decide when (and how) to out myself, if ever, to anyone. It's my identity, and as hard as you might try, you'll never be in charge of it.
Thank you for finally fucking dropping me off at home.