Letter to my dad...

[elegancewaves.livejournal.com]

So. I wrote and sent my dad a letter today. I'm getting SRS done this year, and I needed some extra money because I wanted to get my chin and adam's apple done at the same time. My mom wants to give it to me, but he's not cool with the transition. He was an alcoholic when I was a teenager, and he verbally abused me constantly. He hated me when I told them I was gay, and he hated me when I told them I was trans. Though he was one of those people who secretly, he wants a relationship of some kind with me.

When I first wanted to talk to him about it, I wanted to talk to him because of the money, but as I started writing, it became a lot less about the money and more of me just wanting him to accept me. I don't really care if he says no, there are other ways to get money, but I do want a relationship with him. I wrote because I didn't think I could speak to him on the phone without stumbling over every word and trying to spit the whole thing out in one breath, like I tend to do when I'm nervous. This way, it was deliberate and said exactly what I wanted to say. So to you, dear Transgender readers, I give you my "Letter to Daddy". Please let me know what you think.

I have a question that I need to ask you. But before I do, I want to give a little background for you to read and explain myself a little. I know it's hard for anyone to understand but please keep an open mind about it.

I know you don't agree with my transition. It's hard for any parent, especially when it's a father whose son is doing it. I know you like every father, had dreams for me when I was born, especially considering I'm an only child. I understand that you wanted me to pass on the family name and make your father proud, and I understand that you just wanted me to be a normal child. I've been thinking about this process for ten years before I decided to go for it. A solid decade. I read every book, magazine, internet article, and watched every movie, documentary, and tv show on the subject that I could get my hands on. It's not a decision I took lightly, and half the reason I refused to be useful at anything else in my youth was because my head was consumed with that. And it still is. I was presented with a choice. Two roads to choose. I could go the rough road that would ultimately lead to me being able to find happiness, peace and freedom, or I could try and be happy with the way I was, the way that made me infinitely depressed, and the way I figured would ultimately lead to an early death for me. I chose the first. I've felt the way I've felt since I was in first grade when I wore my housecoat to school because, when I twirled, it looked like a dress.

And the more I transition, I feel myself becoming happier. My outlook on life gets less and less grim, and I find myself becoming infinitely less materialistic and more of a desire to help other people. It's not your fault I'm like this, it's not mom's fault I'm like this, and it wasn't a choice I made to feel this way. If it were something I could have chosen, I would have chosen something that would take significantly less effort, something that wouldn't make me the target of public taunting, and wouldn't drain most of the money I'm ever going to make in the next couple of years. Not to mention the physical and emotional pain that also comes along with it. But this short burst of pain is, in my opinion, worth it as opposed to a lifetime of long and drawn out mental anguish. I want to fix what's wrong instead of letting it go on unchecked.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, as I'm sure mom told you, I'm getting my sex reassignment surgery this year. Aside from the moment I was born and the moment when I will die, this is going to be the biggest thing that ever happens in my life. At the same time I get this surgery, I want to get my chin feminized and my adam's apple removed. This is so people won't be able to look at my face and know right away what I was. Those two things are what give me away and cause the public ridicule. I don't want to be stared at on the train, or at work, and be the topic of conversation for everyone around me. I'm sure you know by now that I'll be coming with you guys when you move to the tropics, and I want a fresh start and the ability to just be me, without anyone knowing or ridiculing me. I just want to be able to live my life, have friends, relationships, and a job where I don't have to worry about being fired for being who I am. Or not getting a job at all for being who I am. But to do this, I need an extra $6,300. I could borrow from a bank, but I wanted to ask if you're willing to loan me the money. Since I'll be living with you in Mexico or wherever we land ourselves, I'll be able to pay you back right away. And until the move, after I've healed because school will be done, I'm planning on having a second job that I could do so with as well. I wanted to ask you personally because I don't want to go through mom, and I know it's a huge amount of money and money doesn't grow on trees. And I also wanted to tell you all of this, because like I said, I'm going to be going through the biggest thing I'll ever go through. We don't have the best relationship, but you're my dad, and I'm your only kid, so I'd like to include you in the discussions. I'll understand if you say no to the loan, but at least you'll have read all I had to say. I hope you won't say no right away and really think about it, though.

Thank you for reading my letter.

Love,

Lee.