Coming out to parents can be scary as hell.
As confusing as this time may be for you, it may also be for them.
So, here are a few tips from my experience — but really — what do I know. Not much — that much I know. So know that. And you do you.
Feels like a lifetime ago now, but I remember when I started T (Testosterone) aka HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy) — it was one of the most exciting times, aside from getting them chesticles removed…twice.
With starting T comes the most welcome and inevitable physical changes. And with that, maybe a beard and having to come clean… to be real. Tell the truth. Because at some point, it can’t be hidden anymore.
Gender is so weird. Honestly, before my transition, I didn’t realize that gender was mostly conditioning.
BUT, conditioning and stereotypes and expectations aside — I transitioned because of my body, the constant and absolute discomfort I felt with flopping tits — but also, being called “she” or “ma’am”.
The transition we go through, as much as it is our own, it’s also shared by the people who knew our body before, who felt that we were that body.
My girlfriend at the time asked me if I would still transition if it was just me somewhere on some deserted Island — and still today, 11 years later, yes, absolutely — yes, 100%. Realistically, I wouldn’t have the means, but that’s not the point ;p
However, as much as I wanted to see ‘me’ when I looked in the mirror, I too wanted to be seen by the people around me — the other mirror — the people I loved and cared about, all the wonderful souls and all the ‘fuckers’ (still wonderful souls) who would never see me again — it mattered — the general comfort of blending in, just fading into the background, for me anyway.
Boxes and Labels
Look, I have no fucking clue about anything to be honest. Life is weird, let alone gender and all the things that come with it.
Find a box if there is comfort for you in it. Those boxes (any boxes) aren’t real. Well, I guess they are as real as we feel they are, as real as we make them. And that’s okay too. I call myself a vegetarian, because it’s easier — I still eat fish (and sometimes I eat biltong — a South African dried meat — some may box me as a hypocrite —oh well). Boxes can be super useful, but also, holy fuck, confusing and limiting as hell.
“Which box is mine and do I only get one, do I need one, why the hell do I need a box, I’m not a cat — or am I?!”
There are new boxes and labels almost every day. So dip your feet into and try on whatever feels good to you. And it’s okay if it changes. Melissa Etheridge sang “the only thing that stays the same is change” (really, the origin of this is Heraclitus, a Greek philosopher — quoted “Change is the only constant in life”). “We cannot step into the same river twice.”
Be soft in the hardness of it
When it comes to telling your folks, if you can, my absolute best advice would be to be soft in the hardness of it all — as confusing as this time may be for you, it may also be for them.
In hindsight, I saw my folks go through a kind of transition with me , you can read my mums story here — it was very difficult for my mum and dad, maybe because I hid it so well (my brother couldn’t have cared less). But the transition we go through, as much as it is our own, it’s also shared by the people who knew our body before, who felt that we were/are that body — especially our parents, who feel they made the body through their bodies or that God made it through them.
Relatability — and put yourself in their shoes.
I’ve compared my transition to getting a booblift / facelift / any body modification — the reason why anyone does this is to feel more comfortable in their body and comfortable around others, too — comfortable in how they are treated and perceived by others.
I think that the older generation (who may actually want a facelift — because they don’t want to look/get/be seen as old) find it harder to grasp transition, because of their specific conditioning and the times they grew up in — but the reality is (at least in my mind) it’s not much different. But each to their own, of course.
Put yourself in their shoes, as much as possible. You know them better than I do, I don’t know your folks at all — I just know mine, and although they love and accept me now, I wish I had been softer in the hardness of it all. It would’ve been so much easier, for us all, at least, I think so. But again — what do I know. I just know my experience. You know yours.
Aside
I realize there is a lot of profanity in this piece, I’m not going to edit it out, because fuck it. So, in light of that, if you want to see some beautiful LGBTQIA+ art, that contains some nudity and no profanity, checkout LEEWAY (Written by yours truly. Idea and directed by Roberto Nascimento) which is finally available for public viewing — it’s all about being yourself, regardless of what your body or society says.
You are perfect.
