Why I Transitioned

Originally this post was about my parents and a response I was writing to them – then the response became a letter partially about why I transitioned.  So, I changed the title of the post and kept writing…

I received a large letter in the mail today.  Well, actually I didn’t receive it – it wasn’t addressed to me; it was addressed to Ms. [birthname] [middle initial][lastname].  A person that no longer exists in that form, and who doesn’t respond to that particular way of addressing someone.  Who do you think sent me the letter?  Come on, three guesses, and the first two don’t count…… Yes, my mother and father.

I picked up the mail this morning, before going to work.  So, of course, this ruined my day.  Inside were a bunch of old report cards and stuff – from middle and high school – stuff I really don’t give a crap about.  Also, my mom asked me, again, if I was going to come out and visit them this summer – a topic about which we have spoken many times in the past two months and I have told them several times that I don’t get time off and I don’t have the money to go visit.  They need to come and see me.  They don’t seem to hear me when I say it.

You know, I would be fine with them addressing a letter to [birthname][lastname] – but they went out of their way to add the Ms.  I am very tired of writing here about my parents.  I am very close to just saying “Fuck It!!!” and not engaging with them any longer.  Before I do that though, I will try to respond to them.

Now, the problem is that I have witnessed the way my mom responds when someone calls her on something – especially something major – and it’s not pretty.  I witnessed her response to a several page letter my brother wrote to her – with lots of personal stuff that is unimportant to the current discussion – but that was begging for engagement and understanding and some acknowledgment of the issues.  Her response was this:

Well, I don’t know.. I mean, these things you are talking about are in the past, and if they are still causing you pain, then you need to move on.  These are YOUR problems and you need to deal with them.

Yes – that was it.  Basically a non-address of any issues my brother raised.  She just pushed it back on him and told him it was his problem and he needed to deal with it and move on.  I wonder if she ever stopped to think that him writing the letter and expressing himself in written form WAS his way of trying to open a dialogue and deal with the issues.

So – I’m not sure how this letter from me will be received, but here is my attempt at it.  I am going to send this via email as soon as I get done writing this blog entry:

Hi Mom and Dad,

I got the stuff you sent in the mail today – I guess I will file it away somewhere.  It is interesting to look back, but I didn’t have that good of a time in school and I don’t really cherish my high school memories or anything, so really it doesn’t make a difference to me if I have those records or not.

I am happy that [my brother] is going to visit you in July.  It will be good for you to meet his wife and child and get to spend some time with him again. Unfortunately CL and I can’t make the trip out.  I have been trying to tell you this for two months.  I would rather have you come out here and visit me.  We don’t have the time or money to make the trip and we probably won’t have the resources for a long time.

It feels like you think I am ‘just in school’ and that I should be able to take time off whenever.  I am not a college student and I don’t get summers off.  I am not in school – I am getting a PhD in [scientific field].  There is a huge difference between what I do and what undergraduates in college do.  There are also huge differences between what I am doing and what a non-science PhD student has to do.  I spend my days teaching classes and running experiments in the lab.  I spend my nights reading scientific journals, analyzing data, and writing up results into scientific paper format.  On average I work about 12-14 hours a day.  This is what it takes to get a higher degree – I have to put time into my research – it is the only way to learn the skills necessary and to have a career as an academic scientist.    Yes I have a lot of daily flexibility with my schedule, but that doesn’t extend into long periods of time off.

I wish that I could come and see you because I want to talk to you about something that is upsetting to me and I think it would be better to say these things in person, but that really isn’t possible right now. First, I want you to know that I love you both very much.  I also want you to know that it upsets me that you addressed the letter to Ms. [birthname lastname].  I guess I haven’t been really clear on this.  I tried to be, but I guess I failed somewhere along the line, so let me try again…

When I first told you that I was transitioning into living life as a male you seemed so open and available to me – so understanding and willing to accept me no matter what.  I tried to explain as best I could what my reasons were and why I felt so compelled to make this drastic change.  I don’t really want to rehash those now because it doesn’t matter, it is really beside the point, because the fact is that I AM transitioning.  But I think you need to read some of the reasons and really read about who I am.

Here is how I live my life:  I am a man.  I live as a man every day.  I am your son, not your daughter, and that is how I think of myself.  It is my identity.  Everyone that I come into contact with on a day to day basis sees me as a man and takes me at face value as a male person in society.  Everyone that I work with refers to me using male pronouns (he/him/his) and using my preferred name, Samuel, which is my legal name.  This brings up the next point… my middle name is no longer [former middle name] – I changed it to Samuel and that is the name I go by in my life.  I have told you this, but you haven’t changed my name in your email address book, so every time you copy me on an email it goes out to everyone with that name on it.  That name isn’t me. It was never me.  It never described me or matched me or my personality or my personhood.  It just didn’t.

I really don’t want to seem confrontational about this because I know that it is a very difficult thing to accept.  I lived a very long time as your daughter and that is how you know me and think of me still.  But it is not who I am.  I am your second son, not your daughter.  I have included a couple of pictures in this email so that you can see what I look like now.  I know I haven’t sent you any information to help you understand this process, but I was only honoring your wishes.  When I asked if you wanted me to send books and information, you declined.

One of the reasons I want you to come and visit me is so that you can see me in my own environment.  I want you to see how people respond to me, address me, interact with me.  I want you to see what other people see.  I am a responsible, intelligent, outgoing, genuine, hard-working man.  These are the things that I don’t think you see, and I need you to see them.

Deciding to transition is not a thing to be taken lightly.  And I didn’t take it lightly.  I spent 34 years on this planet trying to figure out who and what I was… Asking myself: why didn’t my internal person match my external one?  Why did people see me as something that I wasn’t?  Why was I not able to be socialized the way that I felt I should be?  What was wrong with me?

In my twenties I decided that I was a worthwhile individual.  I decided that I didn’t have to have a super low self esteem or think of myself as a piece of shit, and I started to believe that it was true – I am worthwhile.  I truly love myself.  I think I have a lot of things to offer to the world and those around me.  But there was still something wrong.  I wasn’t suicidal or extremely depressed, but I still wasn’t being taken as the person that I was.

The decision to transition was a life or death one for me.  If I wasn’t going to be seen as the person that I truly am, then I’d be better dead.  Yes, I had those thoughts, and I wasn’t suicidally depressed.  This was more scary to me than anything I have ever experienced.  When depressed, I could always say, “this will end, this will go away, this cloud will lift eventually, if you just hang on.”  But I was having the thought that I was better dead and there was no depression – it was the rational, logical end to the problem I was having – and there were no clouds to lift, no alternative time to wait for.  It was at that moment that I knew transition was no longer an option I possibly may not choose, it was a necessity.  It is a very human need to be seen as one truly is, and for me it was not even a possiblity unless I decided to go through with the transition.

I know my transition seemed sudden to you.  I know it seemed out of the blue and completely uncalled-for.  But for me it was 34 years in the making.  I am finally getting to be comfortable in my own skin, and at the same time that skin is being seen by others in a form in which I am comfortable.  I do not expect you to make sudden sweeping, grand changes in your thought processes and ideas.  But I do want you to at least attempt to to see me the way, not that I want you to see me, but the way that I am.

Call me Sam.  You used to call me Sam all the time.  It was my nickname.  Suddenly it is my true, legal, and preferred name and you stopped using it.  Refer to me as he and as your son.  If you slip up, and I know it will happen, catch yourself and correct yourself – it’s not a big deal unless you don’t try.  Make an effort – that is all I ask. Change your email address book to reflect my actual name, Samuel [lastname].

I have no shame about my transition.  I hope that you do not as well.  Instead of being in denial or having shame, be proud of me.  I have taken the most drastic steps possible to become a more authentic, honest, and happy person.  And I am truly happy.  I have a long way to go, at least two surgeries and weekly injections for the rest of my life – but it is worth it because I get to be myself.

Let me also say that, even though it probably seems sudden and rash to you, do not think that this is a ‘phase’ that I am going through, or that I am ‘acting at playing a man’.  I have felt since the earliest times that I was actually a boy and that I was in the wrong body.  For example, remember [high school boyfriend]?  I told him that I felt like I was supposed to be a boy and that it was a mistake for me to be in a female body.  Remember when I wanted to join the football team in high school?  I really wanted to, but not because I wanted to see what would happen if a ‘girl’ tried out or forced her way onto the field – no, I wanted to be accepted as a high school guy playing football with the other guys.  I only quit when it became clear to me that I wouldn’t be seen as ‘just one of the guys’.  This is not a phase.  It has been going on for a long time and I am only now able to do something about it.

I want to end this with a statement that a friend of mine posted on an internet forum (she gave me permission to use it) because I really think it is a good way to think about how people should look at transitioning and transgender issues in general.  Here is what she wrote:

“When a person is injured by accident or disease, we celebrate heroic efforts to preserve their mind and consciousness, even if it means removing vital organs, or amputating limbs. Likewise, if someone has become brain-dead, we usually decide that it’s best to not artificially sustain the body and just let the person complete the dying process. Even in cases where family members fight to keep the body alive, they don’t do it for the sake of the body, they do it for the hope that the mind will return to life some day. In all cases, it is most important that a person’s consciousness, thoughts, and feelings take precedence over their body. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, in his celebrated I Have a Dream speech, told us that he looked forward to the day when people are judged not by their skin, but by the content of their character. In essence, that our heart, our mind, our feelings, and our intellect make up who we really are, instead of the composition of our outer skin.

In virtually all cases, humanity recognizes that the form and condition of our bodies does not, or should not, determine who we are, and what we can achieve. But in the one single case of gender, we throw all of that out the window and say, no, it is your body that rules over your mind, and your body determines what you should do, how you can act, how you must associate with other people, how you can love, who you can love, what colors you should like, and what toys you should play with.

Why do we make this one single exception to the idea that our minds determine who we are? Why in this one case do we want to pathologize anyone who asserts that their mind rules over their body?”

In my case, my mind tells me that I am male and it has been telling me so for as long as I can remember.  Every important person in my life accepts me as a male person and treats me as such, including [best friend, girlfriend, academic mentor, peers and professional colleagues, and friends].  I really need you to try to do the same.

Love,

Sam

Well, that’s it – I guess I will send it and see what sort of response I get. – Edit— okay, I sent it before I could stop myself.  I hope there isn’t too much fall-out.