The great thing about working the late shift at the radio station is, no traffic to deal with on the drive home. The irony tonight was, I found myself wishing for more congestion. Or even a damn parade. Anything to distract me from thinking about how things were between me and my parents.
Three weeks ago I'd sat them down for The Talk. The one where I reveal that their son has always known he was born in the wrong body. That he's always wanted to have breasts and a vagina and long, flowing hair. That he feels so much more at home in dresses and skirts. I have to give them credit. They listened to me. Mom did weep a bit. Good ol' Dad kept a poker face the whole time. Even when I explained how, now that I had my own place, I was 'dressing' full time. That my female self, Beth, was late-night DJ at the local radio station.
When I was finished, Dad gave me a long, hard look. My gut was churning. Here was the hardest part for me. What would he say? How disappointed, or angry would he be with his only child? But he did the one thing I wasn't expecting. He stood, turned, and walked slowly upstairs. His face never changed expression. He never uttered a single word. He just left the room.
I think this unnerved Mom as much as it did me. She spent a few minutes asking me if I was sure. If this was what I really wanted. But I could see she was confused. Probably even worrying that perhaps she'd done something wrong. That she was somehow responsible for me being the way I am. And in turn for how Dad turned away. I did my best to reassure her.
I left that night, not knowing whether I was successful or not. Or if my own Father would ever speak to me again.
I'm nearly home, and still that night plays itself out in my mind. What should I have done different? Could I have explained things better? At least Mom is talking to me. I really think she's coming to terms with the situation. She definitely sounds less nervous when we chat. Dad's another story. He's never 'available' when I call. When I ask, Mom just says 'he's not ready yet'.
Pulling up to the curb, I kill the lights and engine. I grab my purse and lock the car. Walking down the sidewalk, I notice a man exit his own vehicle and turn toward me. My heart leaps into my throat. I quickly gauge the space between us, and the distance to my apartment building. The odds are not in my favor. Then I realize the car looks familiar. A few more steps, and there's enough light from the street lamp to see who the man is. My breath freezes. It's Dad.
We stop a few feet apart. I have no idea why he's here, so I figure the first move is his. He stands nervously for what must be a full minute, before attempting to say something. His throat works like he's having trouble swallowing, and then he stutters, "B-Beth?"
He used my name! Not the one I was given at birth, but my name! We both move forward, and then he's hugging me tightly. And I'm hugging him back. He murmurs into my hair, "I'm still not sure I understand this. Just know that I'll always love you, Beth. No matter what you do, or who you become, I'll love you."
I'm crying too much to answer, so I just squeeze him like I'm never going to let go.
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What a precious moment...
...that Dad has laid aside every weight...I'm crying too much to answer, so I just squeeze him like I'm never going to let go. ...let us keep on running in the way which is marked out for us...God bless your dear heart!
She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea
and then you still have to decide what to do. ― C.S. Lewis
Love, Andrea Lena
Dad might not understand,
ALISON
'but he has given the greatest gift of all--acceptance!
A lovely little story that made me weep tears of joy.
Many thanks and much love,Alison.
ALISON
Never underestimate the danger.
The vignet was really well written and simply lovely. I wish with my whole heart that it will be that way for everyone of us who has that conversation with loved ones.
December 23rd, it will be 5 years for me. It did not go well at all, there was a heart wrenching divorce after 39 years, the children do not talk to me, my old friends don't either. I lost my Job and my church. It hurt worse than anything I have ever experienced. I took it hard. There were 5 hospitalizations. For I while I ate from garbage. I was nearly on the street. I used to be a Christmas freak, putting up miles of lights and singing Handel's Messiah. One night I stepped in front of traffic on a busy freeway, a passing car nearly hit me and the driver honked loudly. From somewhere came the thought, "Oh, the poor driver, how would he feel if he killed you?"
Early this year, I began to draw social security. I am a kept woman. On Mother's day, I was in a Mall, and a young college student walked up to me; "I just said my Shahadda, I am a new Muslim". We would become good friends. Later, I volunteered at a convention and made new friends. I made a trip to Atlanta and met friends that I had only known on line previously. We had a good time. I could never understand why they liked me. Life had been so hard that I never expected it. Last week, I was talking to a couple of my girlfriends. I told them that I loved my life.
I don't expect to ever have another conversation with my x wife or children, grand children or great grand daughter. I am dead to all of them. Still, all that has grown distant. I have my new life, and I love it. I try to forget about the dead spot in my heart. I love my Life.
So, any of you who want to transition, please don't do it casually because I can almost guarantee that you will suffer more than you will think it is worth to live at times. I don't want to see you suffer. I will always try to discourage you and stop you. Once you are in the breach, I will do my best to comfort you and befriend you.
Best wishes
Khadijah
Wonderful
This is just the scene most of us dream for when we consider telling our parents. Mommy Dearest was true to form in my case. "Don't Do Anything Permanent" was her response after also reminding me to get yearly mammograms since she took DES when she was preggers with me.
Got to say, my mother was one woman who should never have been allowed to spawn.
Many thanks for the kind
Many thanks for the kind comments.
Gwen, you are right about the dangers, and I am, sadly, all too aware of their reality. Peg this entry into the Wishful Thinking category.
This is the first contest I've entered here at BC. Erin's challenge struck a chord in me. It's hard to think about a gift, or about giving, without thinking about hope. About the warming of the soul, the growth of the heart, when one gives to others.
This is also the first contest where I've made the time to follow every entry. And I see hope. My prayer is that everyone who visits, or lives, or works at this site takes the time to read every story entered in this contest. That they will see what I see.
- vessica b
P.S. - Kristina's "And So It Goes" is, IMHO, the entry to top at this time.
That was Beautiful
... but short.
Briar
Briar
That Did It
This story got me crying. I think Andrea's Christmas Gift story softened me up so I'm not sure it counts. Perhaps credit could go to both of you. :)
Thanks for the story! It was very short but packs a wallop.
- Terry
That's right, Terry. We
That's right, Terry.
We planned it that way.
The ol' one-two (emotional) punch. :)
- vessica b
He used my name! Not the one I was given at birth, but my name!
....this would have gotten anyone I know going; It brought me to tears when I first read it, and it still does. I have only one human being in over six and a half billion people on this planet that has said my name out loud, my counselor Barbara, and that one first moment had me weeping for over an hour. Thanks again....partner! 'drea P.S. 2010 I have a friend from the site here who was nice enough to record a message to me that included my name. It means the world to me to be acknowledged.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea
and then you still have to decide what to do. ― C.S. Lewis
Love, Andrea Lena
Lay Aside Every Weight
tells a story that in a few words, covers the gamut of emotions in most T.G. stories.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
I loved this
solo, it was a very fine and lovely piece of art that reflects the soul of it's writer.
Bailey Summers
I'd have got back in my car
I'd have got back in my car and started the engine - just because I didn't know who it was.
If I discovered it had been my father I'd have driven off before he shot me.
Good story - needs faith to do that - I'm sorry mine has been shattered long before I transitioned.
Jen
Old stories
Hi Vessica, what happened to your previous stories?
Just for grins, I tried to
Just for grins, I tried to do a Category Browse for my stories, both logged in and not logged in. Not Logged only showed my 2 blogs and 1 story, while Logged showed everything. A quick query to Erin and I learned that there was a filter running to block Non-Logged visitors from the more explicit content. She has turned that filter off, so you should be able to see everything now.
-vessica b
what a wonderful moment
I'm lucky, my mom is okay with my transition. My ex is a different story, however....
Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels
Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels