Hey. For those of you who do not have access to the young members section and so do you already know. I came out to my parents last week. This is the story from that. It's kind of long, I hope you don't mind. I just wanna get it out there...
So last Tuesday, I came out to my parents.
It started out around 7pm. My dad calls me in (using my female name) to my parents' bedroom, and they're both sitting on the bed. "You said you had some thing to tell us?..." He starts. "Uh...yeah..." I respond. "So, Dad, remember how you asked me the other day 'are these my boxers or yours?'"...
Man, this story's hard to type.
I basically set up with all these hints of my past the revealed my masculinity; how I always dress in men's clothing, how I've changed my hair, how I've always hated girly toys and dresses and pink things as a child, etc. etc. I kept laying down all this evidence til my dad goes, "So, what's your point?" "......My point.....is....that...my whole life, I've wanted to be a boy. I was born wrong. I've always wanted to be a boy, and now, I'm taking the steps to make that happen."
My mom cuts in, "Not in my house." So solemnly, so...coldly. And with those words, she begins her 30-40ish minute rant and my emotional torture...
...Since this story is too depressing for me to return to, I'm going to approach it impersonally and just give you the gist of that half hour conversation...
It wasn't really a conversation. My mom just yelled they whole way thru and yelled even louder and faster when I tried to speak in defense. My dad just sat there, staring at the carpet...
In no particular order, the main points from my mom were:
1) This is a huge blow
2) She does not approve and will not fund any part of my process ( I told her I didn't expect her to, and to my confusion, she even got angry that I didn't expect her to...)
3) She's very upset and it's very selfish of me to tell her this.
4) I'm selfish (This was emphasized alot), and since I can't afford hormones or surgery til I'm older and out of the house, why did I even bother telling her?
5) I should've never told her
6) I should forget this and focus on my schoolwork (My schoolwork is completely unaffected by this. I'm graduating in the top 5% of my class, and she knows this, but I guess it's not enough)
7) I'm making my life harder for no reason
8) It would be less disappointing/disgusting if I we're simply gay.
9) When I told her I was graduating in Black robes (Boy's robes at my school, as opposed to red robes for girls), she said she would not attend my graduation. She was not going to take pictures with some freak
10) I'm too young to know what I want
11) If my friends and teachers are so supportive, why don't they pay for my food, shelter, medical care? No one out there cares about me. I'm nothing to everyone else. She's the only one that cares and I let her down, I'm a disappointment. (Selfishness came in again at this point...it was pretty much hanging there over everything)
12)It's a sin, what I want to do. She doesn't care that I'm atheist, it's still a sin. I'll go to hell.
13) By coming out of the closet, I'm pushing her into the closet.
14) I'm sick.
15) She's ashamed of me now.
16) I'll never be a man.
17) I'll never be her son.
If there was anything else, I must have blocked it out or repressed it by now.... The whole thing was a blur I spent trying not to cry ("Boys don't cry, boy's don't cry", I chanted over and over in my head) ....It was all too much, and every minute just got worse and worse...
Finally, my mom just got too fed up with me and ended her rant. Weakly, I asked my dad if he had anything to say. (He hadn't said anything that whole time. He asked me at one point who I was attracted to. I said "Females". He went back to staring at the carpet.) He said he basically agreed with my mom....So that was the end of that. I walked out of the room, still trying not to cry. They kept trying to call me back, calling my birth name over and over. As I walked down the stairs, I told them, "It's Spencer". And walked out of the house.
I stood outside my house at the street intersection. North, South, East, West; I had no idea where I wanted to go, I just needed to get out, I just needed to get away. I didn't dare go near my car, I knew I would try to crash into something and kill myself.
I just walked. It was evening at that point, it would be dark soon, but I didn't care. It's girls that should be afraid to be alone at night, and I was not a girl. I never was. I walked down back roads, my headphones blaring the most emotion-drawing music I had and blocking out the outside world. A song came on that I thought was ironically perfect for the moment; "What a Shame" by Shinedown. If you listen to the song(http://free.napster.com/view/album/i...ml?id=12856437) or read the lyrics (http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/shine...hatashame.html), I swear, it was written for a gay man or transman.
I walked down back roads, still trying not to cry. A couple tears here and there would break out, and that would make me feel even worse about myself. "I'm not crying", I told myself. "I'm not crying. My nose is bleeding. I got in a fight, 'cause that's what guys do sometimes. I got in a fight. I got punched hard on the nose, and now my nose is bleeding. I'm not crying. I have a bloody nose." I said this to myself and I believed it. I clung to it. It may not have been technically true, but metaphorically...
I ended up walking to my nearby Junior High school. The one I went to five years ago. The one where I saw "Her" and had my first crush on a girl and really started to accept that I was just not going to be an average heterosexual girl like everyone expected. And I sat on the swings, near the tree where "She" waved to me (yes, me) once while I was sitting alone, and I almost died, I was so excited. The tree she returned to meet me at which resulted in her becoming my very close friend at that time, even though I wanted to be something else entirely to her.
I sat on the swing set as the sun was setting over the world around me. I had brought my razor blade with me. I was determined to use it, anywhere and everywhere on me. Maybe I would bleed to death, maybe I would pass out, maybe I would just ruin my hoodie. I didn't care. I brought it because I wanted to bleed. I wanted the release. But by the time I got to the swing set, I was too exhausted, emotionally spent, to do anything. I couldn't even cry anymore. So, I just sat on the swing. Silent and still as a statue. Watching the cars go by.
Eventually, It got to be very dark, almost no light left. I decided to walk back. Sitting alone at night in a dark, public area, hood up hiding my face; I probably looked like I was waiting for a drug deal or something. I didn't feel like talking to cops. I walked back home...or just the house where I was raised and was a good kid just yesterday.
That night, I came to the conclusion that love does not exist. It's all just debt. Everyone is just in varying degrees of debt to everyone else, for varying sacrifices others have made for them, and in my case with my mom, my debt is literally about money. Feelings do not matter. They're essentially worthless when not taken advantage of by the media to turn a profit. Feelings don't put food in your stomach or a roof over your head. Money does. Production does. Feelings just complicate things. Forget the Pursuit of Happiness. Just survive and die.
When I got back, it was dark. I went to my room, the room my mom painted and carpeted pink when we moved in because she wanted the perfect little girl's room, even though her "little girl" at the time was begging for blue walls and a race car bed....I got in my bed and just slept, my pastime for the rest of that week.
So, that was my coming out story. I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for the length.