There's this thing about transsexualism, you know, being your "true self", not living in denial anymore, the "real you" and all that. . . it's crap. Oh, don't get me wrong, there's no getting out of it, you will have to transition at some point or another if you don't kill yourself first, that is if you are indeed a true transsexual. At least these days there is enough acceptance and medical support that the transitions are happening at a much, much younger age, well before a person goes through several lifetimes of trying to be "normal" and leaving a trail of broken hearts, betrayed loves and enough baggage to fill the holds of a jumbo jet.
For the "old ones", like myself, the holidays are the harshest reminders of that lost life, even if it was a life in denial. At least there were Hallmark cards and presents. I miss it. I liked being a father on Father's Day. There was acknowledgement and affection for just being who I was to someone. Although my children are still close to me I am no longer a father in the iconic holiday sense and it was way too late in their lives for them to ever consider me an alternate "Mother". So I'm left without a parental holiday . . . Transparent Day? . . . no, I think they'd easily see through that, pun intended.
What am I getting at here and yes, I'm asking myself this, . . . what? Am I questioning whether it was worth it? . . . being yourself knowing you could lose family and everything you've worked for up to then? Most of the time I say yes to myself, the pain is the price for being real . . . but on holidays that come with too many memories I think maybe not, it's taking more bourbon to get through each one.
So, here's to transitioning young, and the younger the better. As for me, if I could jump back in time to the inevitable crossroads of "be who you really are, or don't be" . .. . knowing what I know now . . . I wouldn't.
