Well, today is Father's Day, a day that usually comes and goes at my house without much fanfare. A couple of cards, a couple of phone calls, (my sons and my step-kids don't live nearby) but otherwise the day passes much as any other Sunday. I prefer it that way, I've never really been too sure what to make of Father's Day. I am a father, and I always will be, no matter what the future brings, and I wouldn't change that for the world. Sure, I would've rather of been a mother, but thanks to the circumstances of my birth that was never in the cards, so there's no sense in dwelling on it.
The fact that today is Father's Day, with a helpful nudge by Rhiannon's post this morning (rhiannon-rambling.blogspot.com) has caused me to reflect upon the choice that I made 18 years ago. I had finally accepted that I was trans,and that I was going to transition. I walked right up to the edge of the abyss, prepaired to jump, then stopped, stood back, and walked away. I purged. No more clothes, no more shoes, no more make-up, no more jewelery, I de-transitioned before I'd even started my transition. I cut my hair, stopped shaving, grew my beard back, and threw myself into anything, and I do mean EVERYTHING (work, sports, alcohol, drugs, etc.) to try to keep from thinking about it.
For my family, for my kids, for my wife, to save my marriage (my wife is much more accepting now than she was then!). I was the product of a broken home, a failed 16 year marriage, and an emotionally and physically absent father, and I wanted better than that for my kids. I, like so many others, before and since, had lived in denial of who and what I was. I told myself that all I had to do was meet the right woman, settle down, and it would all just go away. Of course, that doesn't work, but I didn't know that at the time. So now I had a wife and kids who, through no fault of their own, were stuck firmly in the middle of a mess that they never asked for. So, I did what I felt was the right thing for my family, I put their needs ahead of my own. I had made my bed, and I'd just have to lay in it.
Was it the right choice?
I ask myself that sometimes, and the simple answer is that I have no simple answer. It was probably the best choice that I could've made at that time and place, the early '90s was a different time than today, and NH was a different place then. I made sure that my kids grew up with a father and a ''normal'' childhood, and I gave my marriage a good fighting chance to survive going forward into my transition now (it wouldn't have survived 18 years ago!). But at a cost. My youth. Had I transitioned in the early '90s I would've been a relatively young transitioner. Now, I'm in my mid 40's, and testosterone has had those 18 years to further ravage my body, and I'll never get those years back.
I envy you younger girls, you have so many better options, so much more information at your fingertips, and so many more places to find help than I did ''back in the day''. Don't do what I did. Don't live in denial. No one today should have to make the choices that I had to make back then. Don't get innocents caught up in your problem.
Happy Father's Day to all the fathers out there!