My father has been in town for the past week or so; he was here primarily to play in a chess tournament so I have seen depressingly little of him, but it is the nevertheless the first time that we have met face-to-face since I made plain that I intended to act upon my transgenderism (or, as he insists on calling it: “that…issue of yours.”)
For the duration of his stay so far, we have obeyed the time-honoured tradition of our family: avoiding awkward personal subjects like the plague. I have always regarded this behaviour as being the secret of our success; I am convinced that more families are pulled apart by an excess of communication where it is neither needed nor wanted than by any other factor. It had been my fervent hope that we could avoid it completely until he went home. Unfortunately, it seems that this is not to be.
This evening, as he treated Nominatissima and I to dinner, he made clear to me (while she was in the bathroom) that he wanted to have words with me concerning this subject. I told him that I would rather wait until we were alone, so we agreed to meet for lunch tomorrow. I await the occasion with trepidation.
In case, I haven’t made it clear, I love my father. I love him very dearly. And while I remain convinced that the matter of my gender (once divorced from all of it’s unneccessary societal baggage) is a small one, I cannot honestly say that it doesn’t involve him at least tangentially. But for the love of Athena, I thought I was finished with this part already!
I mean, fuck’s sake: I told my parents I was transgender way the hell back in February of last year! I sent them a letter announcing that my intention to transition almost half a year ago (and, I might add, I used format of a letter precisely because I didn’t think I’d be able to tell them verbally); what followed were two conversations upon this very subject, followed by multiple months for them to digest the news. How many times do I have to explain myself? How many times do I have to justify myself? How many times do I have to explain that no, this is not a fluke, or flaw, or an error in judgement on my part. Surely to God we can agree that I should be regarded as the world’s foremost authority upon my own person!
I’m just sore. My dad’s going home in two days. I don’t want this to be the last conversation we have before he goes off.