Winter is Coming

So today we go to move our son back to the house. Our daughter is happy, but I think mostly because she is lonely being the only child left in the house. Michelle I think is secretly happy, I understand a mother never wants her children to really leave. I am not happy, I’m not upset, it’s just a thing that is happening. I want him to stand on his own two feet, but I don’t mind helping him in moments of need. That is what parents do for their children.

I am going to hide the few things that mark me as transgender in the back of my closet. I seriously want to cry. I hate hiding in the first place, I have done it for so long. I have lied to so many people I care about my entire life. So hiding it now breaks my heart. It’s for the best, it’s hard to explain transgender, even harder to explain the non-transitioning transgender. You come off as false, as not wanting it enough, as a coward. Ok, I am a bit of a coward when it comes to this. But I don’t think I would adequately explain this to our children. I think they would believe I am a transvestite, which would be like calling me a man. I don’t have any problem at all with transvestites, but I’m no more one of them than I am an oil tycoon.

So I am hiding again. I could put things past our 12 year old, who doesn’t notice that my shaved legs aren’t naturally smooth, that doesn’t realize I am wearing jeans that aren’t made for boys. I am hiding again. I hate this, I hate being this guy. I hate this body that I am trapped in. I can work on this body all I want, it will still be him. I will still see me trapped in his eyes. I prayed as a child, for so long, that I would wake up, that I would just wake up and be me. I lost my faith in a god at a fairly young age, prayers never answered, nothing to tell me that it’s ok to feel how I feel. I am jealous and hurt, angry and sad. I’m all the negative things I try to avoid, but I am. I hate being me.

Hate, a word I try to never use and I just filled out a paragraph with the word. Ok I have to calm down. It’s not the end of the world, it’s just me having to hide more, to not be me more, to act as if this is all ok. It’s not ok, it’s not right. But here I go anyway.

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