It probably looks like I just spend my life moaning and whinging about how unfair everything is and that I'm hard done by, and that my entire life revolves around my gender and everything related to that.
Really, it's not like that at all. I don't think about it, I really don't want to talk about it, there are far more important things to be doing with my time than obsessing about who I am. That is now a done deal, it's been figured out, and, short of ongoing treatment and everything related to that, it's a minor consideration now compared to so many more interesting aspects to my life.
Showing posts with label talking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label talking. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Lots of Knocks
While I have done some really enjoyable things over the past month (photography at the Fashion City York catwalk show, my birthday party, Legoland with my son, more photoshoots, the Festival of Vintage) I seem to have had a few knocks as well which really have left me feeling a bit down.
I was prompted to write this post now after my son didn't want to speak to me on the phone. I hardly get to talk to him as it is and when I can call is so limited given everything he does and the times when he's 'busy'. I think what gets to me is that him not talking is so 'acceptable'. Not wanting to talk to me is 'understandable' and that is something I have to accept. Of course it's my fault after all.
It's much easier to justify certain behaviour when you can allocate blame: if I'm in the wrong that makes me bad and others actions are 'good' by default. This kind of reasoning is typified by the premise that I have 'done' something - I have made a concious decision to be 'bad' and therefore all consequences are to be expected and accepted.
None of this take into account my feelings and how upset I am. Nor does it really do anything to deal with the, quite complicated, reality of what has happened. There are only so many times I can apologise for the way I am, this really isn't my 'fault', it's something I ultimately had no control over.
My partner and I split last week as well, amicably and by mutual agreement but that kind of thing still upsets and hurts. Last week just seems to have been a horrible week with me feeling down about the split and lots of other things that are bothering me.
I guess everyone has ups and downs and there are lots of things I am very grateful for I could just do without my confidence and emotions being knocked about so much at the moment.
I was prompted to write this post now after my son didn't want to speak to me on the phone. I hardly get to talk to him as it is and when I can call is so limited given everything he does and the times when he's 'busy'. I think what gets to me is that him not talking is so 'acceptable'. Not wanting to talk to me is 'understandable' and that is something I have to accept. Of course it's my fault after all.
It's much easier to justify certain behaviour when you can allocate blame: if I'm in the wrong that makes me bad and others actions are 'good' by default. This kind of reasoning is typified by the premise that I have 'done' something - I have made a concious decision to be 'bad' and therefore all consequences are to be expected and accepted.
None of this take into account my feelings and how upset I am. Nor does it really do anything to deal with the, quite complicated, reality of what has happened. There are only so many times I can apologise for the way I am, this really isn't my 'fault', it's something I ultimately had no control over.
My partner and I split last week as well, amicably and by mutual agreement but that kind of thing still upsets and hurts. Last week just seems to have been a horrible week with me feeling down about the split and lots of other things that are bothering me.
I guess everyone has ups and downs and there are lots of things I am very grateful for I could just do without my confidence and emotions being knocked about so much at the moment.
Monday, 25 January 2010
Dad (again)
He phoned last night. Totally out of the blue!
Well, maybe it wasn't completely unexpected, I'd been tinkering with the e-mail hosting that we use and was in the middle of moving it all over and had sent out a rather terse and technical message about what was to change. I'd phoned my Mum and told her to tell him to look but just expected no response at all.
But he just phoned ... asked if he could speak to "" and then said it was "Dad", which of course I knew. Weird, I didn't think my voice had changed that much ... probably it hasn't and he just didn't know how to handle phoning when he is aware of the fact I have a partner.
It was really quite surreal. Just a conversation about setting up e-mail and why Google is good (using Google Apps which means 50 free accounts using your own domain) and when this would all change over. Really it was as if we'd never had a break in communication. I can't say that I'm really elated or disappointed or anything ... I'm obviously happy that we talked but really it was just like nothing had happened in the intervening months.
Don't think I can really grasp the feelings I have about this properly.
I did, rather flippantly, comment to Rachel that I should break more e-mail things in future so we get to talk some more!
Well, maybe it wasn't completely unexpected, I'd been tinkering with the e-mail hosting that we use and was in the middle of moving it all over and had sent out a rather terse and technical message about what was to change. I'd phoned my Mum and told her to tell him to look but just expected no response at all.
But he just phoned ... asked if he could speak to "
It was really quite surreal. Just a conversation about setting up e-mail and why Google is good (using Google Apps which means 50 free accounts using your own domain) and when this would all change over. Really it was as if we'd never had a break in communication. I can't say that I'm really elated or disappointed or anything ... I'm obviously happy that we talked but really it was just like nothing had happened in the intervening months.
Don't think I can really grasp the feelings I have about this properly.
I did, rather flippantly, comment to Rachel that I should break more e-mail things in future so we get to talk some more!
Monday, 18 January 2010
Dad
I am, and will always be, my son's Dad (or father, or Daddy, or parent, or whatever term you want to use). This is not something that anyone can change, nor would I want to. It is rather confusing of course, for him, me, and I guess anyone that overhears him calling me that (maybe when he is older he may want to refer to me by some other name, that is entirely his choice).
Nothing that has happened to me or that has changed in my life has affected how I feel about my son, I still care just as much as I ever did and want the best for him. I may not be the most conventional parent in the world and I may never have been perfect but that doesn't change the fact of what I feel and how much I really, really do care.
As I have progressed through my transition though, my relationship with my son has been gradually eroded. I started with the totally naive view that I would be able to still take him to/from school, then that I could see him at least every weekend, which then became every other. Now it's one day every month. Alot of these changes are down to simple practicalities, or that's what I tell myself anyway; really it's beginning to feel that I'm losing more than just distance and infrequent visits would account for.
Will I just become a chore? Am I seen as that now? Will I ever get to see my son swim, appear in a school play, or watch him involved in any of the many activities that he does? Am I destined to just be an outcast from his life? Just the person who is only able to show how much they care by paying the bills or buying toys or a meal or activity day out and about? Am I not allowed the time in which to actually know my own child? I really don't know what is going to happen, but sadly I'm beginning to suspect what the outcome will be and I don't know what I can do to change that, I really thought it would be different to the other stories I heard, but it's not.
There is another point to this post and that is to talk about my Dad. I have now started to raise the subject of talking to him when I speak to my Mum. I haven't spoken to him in probably 6months now and I thought that it was maybe because there hadn't been a real reason to or that I'd just been hogging the conversation with my Mum about everything that had been happening to me (I probably - well definitely - do this anyway).
So I asked if I could have a chat to him, and didn't really get given any objections so I assumed it was simply a matter of time. Then I asked again and was told that his response to my previous request was eseentially to dismiss it. It's not that we've just not got round to speaking it's that he really is actively avoiding talking to me at all. Not just about my transition but about anything. My own Dad won't talk to me, at all, period.
How the f*** (apologies for the 'bad word' but frankly I felt like it) do you think that makes me feel. What the hell have I done that is so evil? I'm still me for goodness sake! I know this is alot to deal with, in fact I maybe don't know how hard it is for them but, no matter what, I'm still my Dad's child, everything I was before I am now, I am just more honest about the things in my head related to my gender. I'm not doing this for kicks or to hurt anyone at all, for f***s sake there's counsellers, psychiatrists and everything that are meant to be on hand for this condition, you'd kinda think your parents could at least appreciated that.
The thing I said to my Mum was this: what if something happens? I know it's melodramatic but you can never tell in life and I think the most horrible thing would be not being able to tell someone you love them or not be able to hear that from them before it's too late. A minor falling out is one thing but actively avoiding talking to your own flesh and blood seems particularly hurtful.
So, along with many other relationships that I've lost or that have been irrevocable damaged, it seems those with my son and my own Dad continue to fade and I'd just like to record forever that I love them both dearly and I'm so sorry that I have hurt them and wish with all my heart that there is a way to repair both relationships.
Son, I am so proud of you, more than I can ever say or show. You are amazing.
Dad, I'm so sorry to have upset you, I never meant to disappoint you so much.
Nothing that has happened to me or that has changed in my life has affected how I feel about my son, I still care just as much as I ever did and want the best for him. I may not be the most conventional parent in the world and I may never have been perfect but that doesn't change the fact of what I feel and how much I really, really do care.
As I have progressed through my transition though, my relationship with my son has been gradually eroded. I started with the totally naive view that I would be able to still take him to/from school, then that I could see him at least every weekend, which then became every other. Now it's one day every month. Alot of these changes are down to simple practicalities, or that's what I tell myself anyway; really it's beginning to feel that I'm losing more than just distance and infrequent visits would account for.
Will I just become a chore? Am I seen as that now? Will I ever get to see my son swim, appear in a school play, or watch him involved in any of the many activities that he does? Am I destined to just be an outcast from his life? Just the person who is only able to show how much they care by paying the bills or buying toys or a meal or activity day out and about? Am I not allowed the time in which to actually know my own child? I really don't know what is going to happen, but sadly I'm beginning to suspect what the outcome will be and I don't know what I can do to change that, I really thought it would be different to the other stories I heard, but it's not.
There is another point to this post and that is to talk about my Dad. I have now started to raise the subject of talking to him when I speak to my Mum. I haven't spoken to him in probably 6months now and I thought that it was maybe because there hadn't been a real reason to or that I'd just been hogging the conversation with my Mum about everything that had been happening to me (I probably - well definitely - do this anyway).
So I asked if I could have a chat to him, and didn't really get given any objections so I assumed it was simply a matter of time. Then I asked again and was told that his response to my previous request was eseentially to dismiss it. It's not that we've just not got round to speaking it's that he really is actively avoiding talking to me at all. Not just about my transition but about anything. My own Dad won't talk to me, at all, period.
How the f*** (apologies for the 'bad word' but frankly I felt like it) do you think that makes me feel. What the hell have I done that is so evil? I'm still me for goodness sake! I know this is alot to deal with, in fact I maybe don't know how hard it is for them but, no matter what, I'm still my Dad's child, everything I was before I am now, I am just more honest about the things in my head related to my gender. I'm not doing this for kicks or to hurt anyone at all, for f***s sake there's counsellers, psychiatrists and everything that are meant to be on hand for this condition, you'd kinda think your parents could at least appreciated that.
The thing I said to my Mum was this: what if something happens? I know it's melodramatic but you can never tell in life and I think the most horrible thing would be not being able to tell someone you love them or not be able to hear that from them before it's too late. A minor falling out is one thing but actively avoiding talking to your own flesh and blood seems particularly hurtful.
So, along with many other relationships that I've lost or that have been irrevocable damaged, it seems those with my son and my own Dad continue to fade and I'd just like to record forever that I love them both dearly and I'm so sorry that I have hurt them and wish with all my heart that there is a way to repair both relationships.
Son, I am so proud of you, more than I can ever say or show. You are amazing.
Dad, I'm so sorry to have upset you, I never meant to disappoint you so much.
Monday, 23 February 2009
My Dad ...
... spoke to me yesterday!
It was completely by accident really, I phoned home just to chat to my Mum about the weekend while I waited for the train back to Manchester. Instead of my Mum answering the phone (as has been usual) my Dad answered!
I was a bit taken aback and at the same time very happy!
We chatted about computers and work and all the usual things that we always did discuss. He sounded happy as well, and kept chatting. He did ask where I was (London) and why and I said I was down to see my specialist and also to see friends. The bit about the specialist didn't get any questions so I left it at that and talking about the opera and everything else.
It was such a wonderful conversation and my euphora lasted for about a minute after coming off the phone and then I started to wonder what was going on and how much my Dad knew. I also started to doubt whether I'd got things wrong and that we had been talking all along (that's certainly what it felt like) which was really disorientating.
I was reassured by a quick chat with a friend and, when I got back, I had a talk with my Mum and it seems that she is only filtering bits and pieces to my Dad. He apparently can't deal with the whole trans thing and simply is ignoring it and doesn't want to know.
I think this sounds a bit better than him ignoring me so I guess I could try and keep communication going but without actually seeing him, e.g. e-mail/phone/etc. Then maybe gradually he'll get to deal with it more. It's going to be a slow process, but at least it's a process!
It was completely by accident really, I phoned home just to chat to my Mum about the weekend while I waited for the train back to Manchester. Instead of my Mum answering the phone (as has been usual) my Dad answered!
I was a bit taken aback and at the same time very happy!
We chatted about computers and work and all the usual things that we always did discuss. He sounded happy as well, and kept chatting. He did ask where I was (London) and why and I said I was down to see my specialist and also to see friends. The bit about the specialist didn't get any questions so I left it at that and talking about the opera and everything else.
It was such a wonderful conversation and my euphora lasted for about a minute after coming off the phone and then I started to wonder what was going on and how much my Dad knew. I also started to doubt whether I'd got things wrong and that we had been talking all along (that's certainly what it felt like) which was really disorientating.
I was reassured by a quick chat with a friend and, when I got back, I had a talk with my Mum and it seems that she is only filtering bits and pieces to my Dad. He apparently can't deal with the whole trans thing and simply is ignoring it and doesn't want to know.
I think this sounds a bit better than him ignoring me so I guess I could try and keep communication going but without actually seeing him, e.g. e-mail/phone/etc. Then maybe gradually he'll get to deal with it more. It's going to be a slow process, but at least it's a process!
Monday, 20 October 2008
Talked to my Dad
But only for a few seconds.
I phoned home on Saturday and for the first time in a long while it was my Dad the answered the phone (my Mum was ill - nasty cold - so she didn't reach the phone first). We didn't really have a conversation or anything but I think we exchanged the usual "How are you?", "Fine, how are you" lines and then I was handed over to talk to my Mum.
My Dad actually sounded well and quite cheerful, certainly less evasive and guarded then when I talked to him several months ago. It was really nice to hear his voice and it made me realise how much I've missed 'normality'.
It did take me back a few months - I can associate lots of things with certain points in time and being reminded of one brings back the memories of the others - which was a bit confusing but it was still nice in some ways to feel I had both parents that I could talk to.
Maybe there is a little light at the end of the tunnel.
I phoned home on Saturday and for the first time in a long while it was my Dad the answered the phone (my Mum was ill - nasty cold - so she didn't reach the phone first). We didn't really have a conversation or anything but I think we exchanged the usual "How are you?", "Fine, how are you" lines and then I was handed over to talk to my Mum.
My Dad actually sounded well and quite cheerful, certainly less evasive and guarded then when I talked to him several months ago. It was really nice to hear his voice and it made me realise how much I've missed 'normality'.
It did take me back a few months - I can associate lots of things with certain points in time and being reminded of one brings back the memories of the others - which was a bit confusing but it was still nice in some ways to feel I had both parents that I could talk to.
Maybe there is a little light at the end of the tunnel.
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