May 3rd is Mom’s birthday. She’s not here to celebrate it anymore, though, having died from cancer 4 years ago. Every year that passes I forget more and more of her. I didn’t have the best relationship with her, but it wasn’t terrible. We just weren’t in each other’s lives much. It is still odd to realize she’s not here—that I can’t call her up or go see her.
I never got the chance to tell her I was transgender.
I told Dad. Well, actually, my sister told Dad first. Then I had a conversation with him. He seems to have come around to accepting it, though I don’t think that was his first choice. He can tell that I’m happier now, and I think has helped him cope. We actually talk more now that Mom’s gone. I now know things about him that I never got the chance to know before. It’s strange. I’m not sure why we can relate to each other more now. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that Mom’s not there to be his constant companion anymore, even though their relationship was rather turbulent. But it is nice to start having a relationship with him now, even if it took almost 50 years and me becoming his daughter to do it.
My sister knew something was up before I told her because I wasn’t an asshole to her anymore. She didn’t expect that I was trans, though she was happy for me since it made me happy. For the first time, I have a friendly, sibling (dare I say, sisterly) relationship with her. It’s really quite nice.
My family is still a mystery to me. I have always just shied away from them and founded my own with close friends. I was certain that whatever relationship I did have with them I would lose upon coming out. When that didn’t happen, I had to accept that maybe I’d been wrong about them all these years. Not that I am ready to forget some of the lack of support for the bullying I got, or the lack of an emotional presence in the house, but I think I might be able to forgive them. After all, I wasn’t the easiest of people to be around either.
I know that there are a lot of transgender people that have completely lost their family after coming out. So, I do feel lucking in that I actually found mine. I just wish Mom had been here for it. I think she would have gotten a chance to understand why I was the way I was all along. I’d like to think she would have accepted me.
So, on your birthday Mom, know that I love you, and know that you have two wonderful daughters. Even if it took one of them a lifetime to realize it and come around. Even if you never got to know your eldest daughter the way she wanted you to.
Happy Birthday, Mom.