I’ve been having so much trouble sitting down and finishing my little trail of flashbacks. Not sure why. But, I think it’s time to stop rehashing the past and move on with the now. This will be my last recounting of what brought me here, because I’m very ready for where and what is next.

** Flashback to October, 2018 **

Now that my wife knew, and the shit had certainly hit the fan, it was time for me to finish the list of the most important people in my life…my parents. I wasn’t so worried about them abandoning me. One thing that our home was never short of was Love. Even after my father gave me a much deserved butt-whoopin, it was still followed up with a hug once the dust had settled.

I think part of the reason I wanted so desperately to tell at least my Mom was that I just needed someone to talk to. My wife wasn’t yet ready to talk about anything (without it turning into a nasty fight), and for the first time since I was a child, I needed my Mommy.

I hadn’t really planned exactly when I was going to do it, I just knew that it had to be soon. I finally saw the opportunity one evening before heading out to join my dad for a weekend of deer hunting. My dad had asked me to stop by their house and pick something up, and I knew my mom would be there alone. When you have a close relationship with your mom, she has this amazing ability to see right through everything and know that something is not right.

All she had to ask was “How have you been?”. I took a deep breath set down at the kitchen table, and everything just started to come out. I told her about the depression and anxiety that I’d been feeling, and I even told her that it got so bad that I wasn’t sure if I could continue living. I told her that I was finally going to therapy, and that I realized and finally accepted that I am a transgender woman. I told her about how I have known since I was five years old; that every birthday wish that never came true was always the same wish; that I prayed to God as puberty approached that he wouldn’t change me into a man; and that for most of my life I’ve been denying this and burying it down as deep as I could get it to go.

She was crying, I was sobbing, and she just got up and gave me a hug as I cried in her arms. It was the most wonderful and comforting feeling ever. I had been so worried about her reaction, but as the selfless mother that she is, her first three thoughts were:

• What did I do wrong?
  • NOTHING!
• What could I have done differently?
  • Again, NOTHING!  It was the 70’s, we lived on a military base, and there simply weren’t enough resources to prepare any of us for this.
• I wish I had known you were in so much pain for so many years.
  • Me too…  Denial is a horrible thing.  It’s like a rotten seed that you just bury as deep as you can, and over the years it festers and rots, and eventually bursts with a flood of emotions that some simply can’t overcome.

I don’t remember everything else that was said.  But, I definitely got to the deer camp a LOT later than I had intended, and it was worth every minute. The next morning, I should’ve just stayed at camp.  If you know anything about Texas hunting, picture me sitting in a tree stand (chair attached to a tree, 22 feet up), full blown camo, my compound bow at the ready.  But, here’s the thing, you need to be still, and you need to be quiet.  Was I?  Hell no.  I spent 3 hours texting my mom, crying, wiping away tears, audibly crying, more tears.  I can imagine a deer stood there for who knows how long, looking at this emotional basket case hanging from a tree, thinking “why did he even bother coming out here?”.  But, something did happen that day.  I became closer to my Mom than I’ve ever been, and I think we spoke more that weekend than we have in the last 10 years.  That closeness has remained, and I now find it so easy to call my Mom just to talk, for no specific reason.

Well, one down, one to go…Dad.

Don’t take that wrong, I love my Dad immensely, and that love has always been mutual.  He has always been my finest friend and mentor.  But, with that carries a distinct fear of ever disappointing him.  I don’t remember how long it took me to finally build up the courage and decide exactly when this would happen, but I’m sure Mom wishes it had happened a lot sooner.  It had to be torture for her to hold on to this secret for as long as she did.

You might be wondering how I “told” him.  There’s no way in Hell I was going to be able to do it face to face.  I did have a plan though. I had spent the last month or more writing a letter, four pages long, that I hoped would explain everything.  That letter was amended and revised more times than the Bill of Rights.  I still can’t read through it without crying.  I put more thought and emotion into it than I think I’ve ever put into anything.

My Mom was out of town, I think visiting my Grandmother.  I believe I used the excuse of wanting to borrow his pressure washer as my reason for coming over.  I had to do this…I owed it to him to trust him, I owed it to Mom because she needed someone to talk to also, and I owed it to myself to keep this process moving.  As I walked in, he’d been taking a nap, and started to get up to help put the pressure washer in my truck.

“Hold on, don’t get up yet.  Put on your glasses, read this, and don’t stop until you finish.”

Before he could even ask what it was, I was out the door, took a seat on the patio, and texted my Mom.  He’s a fast reader, and I hoped that would still apply. Twelve f*cking minutes! How many times did he read the letter?? It was torture.  Finally, he came out, gave me a hug, and told me he would always love me, and will always be proud of me.  Tears…more tears…

We must’ve sat on the porch and talked for over an hour.  He seemed pretty receptive and accepting at first, but I think now it was mostly shock.  He’s struggled, not sure how he’s supposed to feel about this concept that he realizes he really doesn’t know much about.  He’s getting there.  He says he knows “We need to talk more about this”.  Hopefully that will happen soon.  I’m sure when I’m ready to fully come out, he’s going to have his own “Go, No Go” moment of acceptance.  I just hope he is ready, and our relationship is ready, for that moment to happen.  It’ll happen, it has to.  The most important thing is that I was finally able to bear my heart and soul to my amazing parents, and it ended up bringing us closer.

Best parents a daughter could ever have.

If you would like to see a copy of the letter I wrote to my father, please let me know in the comments below, or email me at renee@becomingrenee.com.  I’ll need to comb through it to keep everything anonymous. But, if it’ll help someone with coming out to their own parents, I am more than willing to share.  Stay strong, you can do this, and you deserve this!!