What about Martin?

So, in a previous post I mentioned my transgender FtM stepson. We.. “WE” were having trouble letting go of her so that she could become him in our minds. I can’t believe I had so much trouble with it. Of all people, of all of us, I should have known better. I am disappointed in myself. I won’t make excuses, there were a lot of factors, but there always is, so shame on me.

Anyway, I have embraced the pronouns and he is Martin. I will miss my stepdaughter, I loved her so much. But I love Martin, my stepson enough to respect his feelings and he hasn’t changed on the inside, he is still my child. My intelligent, smartass, brave son.

However, my wife, bless her, is having trouble. She is very open minded, but she loves her children to a fault, as all mothers should. So she can’t quite let go of her daughter. She needs more time I think. This isn’t about the transgender issue, it’s about letting her daughter go and making the firm decision to change herself as well. This is why I can’t come out to my mother. She could handle the transgender part, but her first born son to her will have gone and been replaced with a daughter. It’s hard to wrap the brain around for anyone. My mom doesn’t have that kind of time, so she will always, in her mind, have a son. I am duty bound and bound by love to gift her that. If we were both younger, this part of my transition wouldn’t even be an issue.

So, right now I am the only one in the house calling him Martin or using proper pronouns. That leaves a mother, daughter and son, three that continue to call him a her and using her old name. It’s creating a division here, obviously. They have all, with exception of our youngest daughter, which I’m honestly not sure about, said that they are waiting to see if it “takes.” To see if it is real. I’m not sure how to answer that, it’s real to him, it doesn’t have to be real to anyone else. I’m sitting here in the early morning, typing on my trans blog wearing a little black dress and heels, after having felt like a girl since living memory, you tell me when it is real to you.

I understand their hesitation, I understand their wanting to hold on. I’m just frustrated that these people, the most open minded people I know, are still not letting this happen. Love has to let go, love is open arms.

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