106 lines
5.9 KiB
HTML
106 lines
5.9 KiB
HTML
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<title>Zk | 009</title>
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<h1>Zk | 009</h1>
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<p>date: 2019-08-20
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weight: 10</p>
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<p>I went through all this effort to come out to him. It was one of the only times I’ve come out and had it be 100% my choice, my words. I could write what I want, explain my feelings.</p>
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<p>Ish.</p>
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<p>Well, sure. I had to couch it in language catered to him. I had to couch it almost as an apology. But it was my choice to come out, when I could’ve just hid.</p>
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<p>I typed up my letter. I ran it past Robin. I slept on it. I hit send.</p>
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<p>You hit send and then you put your laptop away and curled up to rest your head on Robin’s lap.</p>
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<p>It took a lot out of me. Being vulnerable is exhausting. Being vulnerable around my dad doubly so.</p>
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<p>It went better than you had hoped.</p>
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<p>Much.</p>
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<p>And then you met up in person.</p>
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<p>Yes. We met up for dinner in Loveland, and he just couldn’t quite do it. JD couldn’t come for some reason or another, so it was just me and my dad and Maurine sitting at a table in Door 222.</p>
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<p>I went in boy mode. I wasn’t quite sure that I was ready to be that vulnerable around him, not enough to be in a skirt and makeup.</p>
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<p>You came out as ace. You couldn’t have been that shy.</p>
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<p>I was also a little drunk. Maybe after a few drinks, I thought maybe a bit more vulnerability might not be such a bad thing.</p>
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<p>It was just all too much, though, for someone I saw so infrequently. He couldn’t use my name. He couldn’t call me Madison.</p>
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<p>Man. Dude.</p>
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<p>Yeah. That’s all I got. I got one ‘Matt’ and an apology, and then the rest of the night, he would only call me ‘man’ or ‘dude’.</p>
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<p>Do you think it was intentional?</p>
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<p>Probably not.</p>
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<p>But it hurt.</p>
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<p>Yes. It’s one thing to not be able to remember a name on the spot, or to mess up on pronouns, but it’s another to default to specifically gendered terms when your child just came out to you as trans.</p>
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<p>I know, I know, they’re not <em>that</em> gendered. Folks argue that ‘dude’ is gender neutral with some frequency.</p>
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<p>But still.</p>
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<p>But still.</p>
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<p>And then you stopped really trying.</p>
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<p>Yeah.</p>
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<p>I talked with my therapist not too long ago about what I would tell someone coming out as trans who had a parent who reacted how my dad did, with that same nonchalance, that same uncaring attitude. I said I would tell them to try to make their voice heard up until a point.</p>
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<p>“Up until a point?” she asked. “Do you think there’s a point where you stop trying to make your voice heard?”</p>
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<p>“It’s less that than it is there’s a point where you have to make the cost-benefit analysis and decide whether or not it’s worth it to try any harder.”</p>
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<p>“That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think? To say ‘it’s not worth it to continue this relationship with my family member’.”</p>
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<p>I shrugged. “Maybe it is, but at a certain point, it costs more to keep trying that any benefit I would get out of him really listening and understanding.”</p>
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<p>You cut your losses.</p>
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<p>Yeah. I decided that it was either going to be too much energy or just plain hurt to much to keep trying and to keep failing with him, so I just kinda gave up.</p>
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<p>You could have kept going.</p>
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<p>Maybe.</p>
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<p>Maybe he would have come around.</p>
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<p>Maybe.</p>
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<p>He could have started to see you as his daughter. You could have told him about the HRT, about surgery. You could have told him about drinking and poly and so many other things.</p>
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<p>Maybe. But at this point, it’s too many ‘maybe’s. I’m too tired to deal with something so important with someone I’m not even sure I respect.</p>
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<p>It’s okay not to respect the him that he was around Matthew. What about the him that’s around Madison? What about the him that went and sought out therapy? What about the him who said, quietly, “I was a real asshole. I’m starting to realize that now.”? Is that him not worth loving?</p>
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<p>Maybe I love him.</p>
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<p>I’m just not sure I can let my guard down around him enough to respect him.</p>
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<p>The him who kicked me, the him who I ran away from, the him who taught me that moods were a thing for cattle and loveplay…that him is still too near the surface. I have spent years of my life, hours and hours of therapy, I have spent thousands of dollars trying to unwind what damage he did to me. I resent that. I loathe that I hate who I used to be in part because he made me that way.</p>
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<p>Maybe I do love him, I’m just not yet sure that I don’t also hate him.</p>
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