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my coming out letter to my parents

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  • Hi all,

     

    I'm working on a coming out letter to my parents.

     

    a bit on my prants background:

     

    I am adopted before birth and never met my bio parents. the bio parents wanted me to be raised Catholic.

    My mom was a fransician nun and now is a eucuristic minister at her Catholic Church.

    My dad is an usher at church.

     

     

    now on to my letter that I'm working on:

     

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    Dear Mom and Dad,

     

    I have something very important to tell you about myself. You might not approve of it, but please try to keep an open mind as I try to explain this. Also, please understand that what I'm about to tell you is not your fault. So, whatever you do please do not blame yourselves.

     

    Science has proven that chromizones act as switches and decide certain aspects on how a person develops. Just like with being a red haired or fair skinned these switches are turned on or off. These are a few of the things are pre-determined. The genitals and mind do not communicate when the fetus is being developed and please know that science doesn't know why this is and please like I said know that this is not your fault. The condition I have is Gender Identity Disorder. It has not been able to be diagnosed because the doctors I've had at mental health would not listen to me or care about what I said. I have known from a young age that I was in the wrong body and science has proven that the brain and genitals develop in the womb that they do not talk to each other. The brain goes one way and the genitals can develop the other way.

     

    When Mom would come in at night when I was young to say our bedtime prayers, after mom would leave I would continue my prayer and pray to God that I awake as a female. When the girls has their My Little Pony and strawberry Shortcake I had the GI Joe and Transformers. I always envied the my little pony toys.

     

    Growing up in group homes was even worse. I could not even try to do anything to allow the real me out. I was relegated to theatre for that. The gym classes were the worst and most humiliating.

     

    I am living a false life. The person I see in the mirror is not who I truly am. Every days is a struggle as I'm living a life that is not mine.

     

    When money gets better I'm going to seek the help I need and start the hormones to become the female I am inside. Rachel knows this and is supportive of it.

     

    Rachel and I understand the hardships that our life will face and the fact that finding a job will be even harder. We will always find a way to make it as Rachel says, “Fake it til you make it”.

     

    If it weren't for the arts I may not be around right now. It has been what keeps me going. I now have Rachel as what keeps me going.

     

    Mom and Dad, thank you for all that you've done up to this point. I hope to have your understanding and acceptance during this tough time for me. You two have been amazing parents and I hope that you will accept me as your daughter as you did when I was your son.

     

    With love,

    Joseph

    (soon to be known as Caitlin)

     

     

    ---

     

    Thoughts and ideas please.

     

     

    sincerely,

    Cait

      March 28, 2012 7:41 AM BST
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  • I had to come out to my parents multiple times.  The first time I was about 6 years old.  I had been playing with the girls until the spring of first grade, when I was trading clothes with some of my girl friends and her mother came home from work and found me wearing her daughter's dress, tights, and shoes.  After that I wasn't allowed to play with the girls at home or at school.  I liked the feel of the clothes, so I started going into the dirty laundry to wear my mom's church clothes in the bathroom.  Eventually my mom couldn't wait and used a hanger to unlock the door, to find me dressed in her clothes.

     

    I broke down crying and told her I wanted to be a girl, and not to be mad at me.  She was very understanding, and patient, telling me that she understood why I would like the feel of the clothes.  When my dad came in, he told me that he was more woman than man too, but that there was nothing we could do about it, and I'd just have to accept it.  It was 1961, and there was almost no publicly available information on transsexuality.

     

    By the time I was 10 years old, I'd heard of Christine Jorgensen, and wanted to find out more.  I tried to get caught.  I would dress up in a teddy I took from my mother's drawer, and pantihose I'd fished out of the laundy.  I'd tie my waist with a stocking to make sure I couldn't get out easily.  My parents saw me that way at least a few times, but refused to acknowledge it.  Eventually, mom found my "stash" which I had finally moved from between the mattresses to the bottom of my closet under a mass of clothes.  She told me to stop stealing her clothes, and that I could have any pantihose or stockings that she knotted.

     

    My parents decided that it was time for my dad and I to have the "Birds and Bees" talk, even though I was only 10 years old.  The reason became clear later on.  As he started describing male anatomy I realized that I didn't have testicles.  My dad explained that mine were still up inside me, like ovaries, and that if they didn't drop down, they would have to perform a special surgery to fix things.  For almost a year, there was the hope that I really was a girl, that I had ovaries instead of testes, and that I might still be able to be a girl.  Unfortunately, when I was 11, on a hot summar night, while I was taking a bath, they dropped, and I freaked.  I tried to put them back up, even injured myself in the attempt.  I tried to break them, crush them, and even tried to strangle them with rubber bands.  Nothing worked.

     

    Fast forward about 20 years.  I was getting a divorce, and had gone to a gender therapist, who strongly advised that I begin the transition process, living as much of my life as I could, being a girl.  When I came out to my sister, she wasn't surprised at all.  I had loved to brush her hair, had taught her to do make-up, and loved to go shopping with her when we were kids.  She had always thought of me as her big sister, but thought it was because I was gay.

     

    My mother wasn't that surprised either.  Her response was, "well at least you don't have to steal clothes anymore".  Again, I used to love to go shopping with her, and advise her on wardrobe.  She often found that when she took my advice, she got lots of compliments from dad, and from the people at church.

     

    My dad and my brother, were not so understanding.  They didn't want me to flaunt it, and made it clear that they would not be able to accept my transition.  Since I no longer lived with them, I decided not to push it.  I continued with the transition for as long as I could, until my ex-wife told me that if I went any further, like starting hormones, she would have my child visitation revoked or at least push for supervised visitation.

     

    Last year, in April, my father was dying.  Not knowing how much longer he would be alive, or whether we would have a coherant conversation again, the first conversation, he said; "If I never gave you anything else, I hope I have you the freedom to be yourself".  In that moment, I almost went off on him.  Wasn't he the one who could not accept my dressing?  Wasn't it him who didn't want me to get the transition?

     

    But then I realized, I had shared my thoughts as Debbie on Facebook, and dad was on my friends liest.  I frequently saw dad's posts and realized that he had also seen mine.  I had lost a lost of weight (85 lbs) by going back to being Debbie in public, and had shared my progress.

     

    I had packed some short shorts and bought a pare of women's tennis shoes while I was there.  I also had some feminine blouses and camisoles.  I started wearing them while I was taking care of dad.   One day, he asked, "How did you learn to take such good care of me", and I told him "From you dad, from you".  My dad was the one who liked to take me to the symphony and the ballet, to enjoy fine art, and taught me good manners.  My mom was the one who loved to watch footbal cames, and rooted for the Broncos.

     

    I realized that he had said it many times.  He didn't want me to be bullied the way he had been bullied when he was a kid, and that's why he didn't want me to go to school looking like a girl (which is why he kept my hair very short).  He was trying to protect me from the same kind of pain he had endured.

     

    I think a part of him envied me.  At least I had finally reached the point where I could be who I wanted to be, at least some part of the time.

     

    I wish I had told a lot more people when I was a senior in high school, or going to my nearly all-girl college.  I was so afraid that I would be kicked out or beat up.  It never occurred to me that even if many didn't accept me, there would be a dozen or so people who would not only accept me, but would actually WANT me for who I am.  I found that out when I came out publicly in 1988, but I wish I had made discovery in 1974 or 1975.

      July 1, 2012 6:26 AM BST
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  • I wonder what became of Joseph?  Did he become Caitlyn?  How did it go?  I know it was several year back when Joseph came out to family and friends but I'm wondering if he is now a she and living happilly as Caitlyn.  If you read this Cait, please give us an update and let us know how your life has changed since we last heard from you.

    Thanks, Katie   :)

    Success is the ability to go from one failure to the next without any loss of enthusiasm!
      December 4, 2015 2:19 PM GMT
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