I know many of you were expecting me to write about my journey today - but right now I needed to journal these thoughts on my experience of going to Transfamily the night before my departure with my father. Fear not, that Blog is coming next and I am working on it right now. But right now, my father is more important on my mind than my travel experiences.The Day before I left for Canada, I was blessed to have my father to be the first family member to join me for Transfamily in Cleveland. Transfamily is a support group for Transgendered individuals that is heavily dedicated to TS issues, but not limited to and is open to all people under (and affect by) the Transgendered umbrella.
My mom was not home when I went to pick him up for the meeting, but I did get the chance to leave her a Mothers day gift with a card. Transfamily is a one hour drive for me so it gave me and my Dad time to talk, however, we did not talk about anything related to TG issues or pending surgeries… and truth be told, I was soooo glad we didn’t. It was nice to just talk about other things. I was a bit concerned on how my Dad would feel walking into a room filled to the brim of Transgendered people. I know myself it was an adjustment the first time I walked into the Alpha Omega Group (AO).
AO is a group that was originally a Tri-Ess Chapter for heterosexual Cross Dressers and their spouses or those affected by Cross Dressing. These days, AO is now on their own and departed from Tri-Ess who is more open of a group that focuses on CD’s and their spouses and emphasizes that each are equal as members in the group. When I first went to AO meetings I was taken back by the site of a Cross Dresser - even though I myself was one. I don’t know why, but I was. To me, they looked like men in dresses - not women at all and that was because they were. That is not a statement towards their degree of passibility - it is more of a statement attesting to my immaturity and ignorance what it means to be a Cross dresser, and more over, a Transgendered person.
I had never seen or for that matter interacted with anyone that was TG - I didn’t even know what “TG” meant!?!? I was not disgusted or put off by their appearance - in fact they did a great job assembling their clothes and accessorizing. At the time, I failed to see them as anything but guys in a dress - I didn’t get it at all… and that is why I say, I was ignorant - because at the time, all I understood was that I had a need to express myself through wearing female clothes and calling myself Chloe. Now if I was this confused, I can’t imagine what is going through my Dad’s mind.
When we finally reached and walked into Transfamily, we were greeted by Leann (Another TS that will be joining me in Thailand and having her GRS on the same day with Dr. Chettawatt. She just had FFS with Dr. O last fall and I had not seen her since she was only 3 weeks post op from that procedure and OMG! She looks outstanding - WOW! Dr. O does great work. I have another friend name Mara who went to Dr. O - same thing…. WOW!
Anyway, we walked into the meeting and there was a higher than usual amount of people that had come to the meeting. Leann herself had about a dozen family members there at the meeting supporting her as she embarked for Thailand too. It was kind of overwhelming for me to see that many people come to support her… admittedly I was very jealous and it hurt for awhile. I was not mad or hateful towards Leann, but it hurt because my family can’t even get that many people to stop working on their homes and lives long enough to go to a birthday party or family gathering let alone all go to a support group meeting. I’m not bitter, but looking at the people in my family (Myself included) it seems that each of us are more interested in building nice homes, having manicured lawns and acquiring stuff, than we are at working at being a family unit. Not everyone is that way, but darn near all of them. I was probably the worst.
The meeting begins by everyone going around the room introducing themselves and offering any information they care to share. It seemed every other person standing up was a member of Leann’s family. Then Leann herself stood up to talk and she was very emotional in her delivery. I was so happy for her and I could tell she was moved deeply and spiritually. I could see a complete happy person emerging in her… it frightened me, cause I have yet to see that person staring back at me in the mirror. The lack of family support has hurt and damaged me to a level that is beyond my ability to put into words. I am working to declare my identity as Chloe, yet that is an inner identity only which I wish to reveal outwardly by masking it over top the outwardly identity I already had - keeping intact all that surrounded that previous identity. I never bargained that I would have to give up ALL my other identity and be stripped of my heritage and dignity and respect by those that claimed to love me. I know its hard on them too - but its been 3 years now and for extended family its been 2. At some point you lose all hope that they will ever take the initiative to come around - you feel as though your not worth the effort for them to try because working on their homes takes precedence over your struggles.
I began to cry an angry cry when I heard all these people standing up saying “I’m Leah’s uncle”, “I’m Leah’s brother”, “I’m Leah’s Cousin”… etc etc etc…. I thought I was getting over myself, but here again, I find my feelings sliding into a territory that is “All about me” (again). BUT this time, I caught my self - quickly composed myself and shook it off. Minutes later I began to think how wonderful it was for Leah, that she had family there -AND- I too DID have my father with me. Things just don’t happen over night either. So, thinking about it, I was very proud of myself to be able to catch myself slipping into a dark place and pull myself out of it before it consumed me. “Its not all about me” I said… Over and over. Some times, I get so focused on my own problems I fail to see how to, or be happy or sympathetic towards others plights.
When it was my Dad’s turn to talk, he said: “Hi, I’m Barry. I’m Chloe’s Dad”… *tears*
I was so happy to hear that sentence for the first time… {no words} I finally felt grounded back to reality.
My Dad however was a bit nervous - the room listened with anticipation to hear him as they have all heard me speak of my family issues many times before. They all took comfort in humanity when they seen him walk through the door with me finally. That “comfort” was something I failed to receive at first when Leann’s family came with her because I was drowning in my own sorrows. (How can you be happy for others when life for you seems so rotten?) At least, that’s what I use to think. This mind set only began to change once my family began to show signs of the ice melting. Family support makes this process SOOOO much easier… at least for me it would have. I use to think maybe that’s why they were being so stand-offish and cold about my transition, in the hopes it would cause me to change my mind. THAT however, never wavered for a moment.
I had reached a point LONG ago, that I decided I had had enough of life and didn’t want to live another moment in bondage to others expectations of what my outward identity would compliment for them. To a small degree I think the family did try the silent treatment, but now, I think they just find me and the whole issue unapproachable and so it is easier to just avoid it all together. However with my Dad, I think he has reached a point in his life that he is ready to listen and genuinely wants to understand; regardless of whether or not he will accept it or not, is a completely separate issue. At this point, he is looking for answers - The same as I was in the beginning.
The meeting progressed and my father listened intently to each persons stories - more so when a parent spoke about their child’s transition and how it effected them. I could see my Dad identifying with them and you could see the emotion running through his face… it was a painful moment looking in to his eyes… painful for me too because you know that pain is caused by what you are doing.
The meeting broke up from a circle and everyone relaxes, eats snacks, walks around and talks to each other. A few parents took the time to come over to my Dad and sit with him on the couch. Two of those parents has been like an adoptive mother and father to me. I decided to give them space and I went across the room and spoke with a mother who’s son is transitioning. I could see the pain in her eyes and confusion to the whole issue. She had the same look in her eyes as my Dad and Mom once did - disbelief and questioning herself , was the look of someone that struggles to grasp where she went wrong. I walked over to her, extended a hand and said “I’m Chloe…” and then she looked up with a tear torn face and I looked her in the eyes and then gave her a big hug… then she expelled more tears on my shoulder.
I tried to listen to the mother and offered no opinion. She told me about how she felt she is losing her child. It never fails to effect me in a profound way just how moving a parents grief can make me atone for my own attitudes towards my family when I didn’t understand why they did what they did to me… now I know. I told her that the fact that she is here at the meeting meant everything to her child and even to me too! Her confusion and pain is what I and others like me need to hear - and they (the parents), need to come and be given "our" pain and fears too - so we can all work through our problems, together. Hearing her has helped me and helped all those whom are touched by me, because NOW, I know a bit more to the puzzle, because of her. She told me the meeting helped her too, and reciprocated the same feelings I had.
As I was talking to the mother, I looked over and kept an eye on my father taking cues from his body language and facial expressions to gage how he might be feeling, thinking and if or when I should come over and relieve him from an awkward or embarrassing moment. That moment, I am happy to say, never came. My Dad’s attitude became “more even” and “comfortable“. The people talking with him also seemed to be able to gain from his story and feelings as well. I was so happy to see that he finally had made a connection with someone that FINALLY knew 1st hand exactly how he felt - completely… and as we all know, when you finally find the one or more people that “Get you”, it is the point where you can finally open up - and when you open up, that is when the healing can begin - letting in new and different ideas to wash away or vaporize fear, myth or misconceptions of truths you’ve held to that were outdated or invalid completely.
Transfamily usually ends around 5pm and then people go to Union Station (a pub/restaurant) that is connected to Bounce (an LGBT Night Club). They invited me and my Dad to go, but I was hesitant because I didn’t want my Dad to be overwhelmed to much. However, I came to find out that the club was not open till late and my Dad was now completely open and up for going to the Restaurant with all the members of Transfamily.
So, we made our way to Union Station. The place had a “pub” feel to it and the food and service was great as well. The parents that had spoke with my Dad sat with us at the table and continued to talk all through dinner. It was great… I looked around and everyone was having a great time. If you would have told me that my Dad would be at a restaurant with 30 other TG’s having dinner as a group, I would have called you a dreamer and a selfish liar to be making up such a fairytale that only could be made up for the benefit of their twisted mind to torture me with.
Before we left, the group asked my Dad if he would be back and he said “sure… I can do that”. They asked him if there is any chance my mom would consider it - and he said “I am sure maybe in the future when she has had some time, she might”. This was very promising and hopeful for me to hear… I can only hope my Dad goes home a little less confused and feeling isolated - but at the same time, goes home and encourages some of my family to find answers for themselves as he has done.
We drove home and my Dad asked me a few more question… then, finally, for the first time, he REALLY opened up his feelings and told me exactly how he was feeling (and has felt) in a way I could hear and understand him - and because of the meetings, I was in a place now too, that I could understand him with out thinking first of how his thoughts effect my own. He told me that he never felt disappointed in me - he felt that “everything he was“ he had invested in me… and when I decided to transition, all that was tossed away and he felt that his legacy and “everything he was” and “everything his family was“, died when I became Chloe… I did not respond or defend it… instead, I just listen. It didn’t need to be discussed because it was his feelings. I didn’t want to shut that flow of raw thought and honesty down - right or wrong. He just needed to “get it all out“… and FINALLY, he did, in a productive and caring way that I could hear and understand him fully.
Once we got to my Dad’s home, I went inside with him to use the bathroom before returning home myself. My Mom was finally home. Now I am not sure, but I don't think she had bargained that I would be coming in. Remember, tomorrow was Mother’s Day - but not for my Mom. For her (and my Dad), it was the day their son left the country to have a surgery they did not support or believe was even necessary.
The tension in the room was awkward to say the least. They didn’t know what else to say - My Dad didn’t say anything to my Mom about the meeting (at least not while I was there) and I didn’t know what else to say either. There was a moment of silence, and then I finally said, gently, “Well...... I need to get packing…”. both of them just lowered their heads - they knew there was no more that they could say… they knew there was nothing more I could say to them. They looked like they had just been beaten in a hand of poker that not only took all their life savings, but their freedom and dignity too.
I walked towards the door and my parents stood silent, staring at the floor… I reached the front door... opened it… And then I turned around so they could see their child’s God given face and body one last time…. I nodded as if to say “I understand now… I’m sorry”….
I walked out the door and said “I love you both”, and with out any response, I walked out, and dared not to look back…
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