Unfiltered Story #259134
I came out as a trans dude few years ago to my parents. Until recently they were not even neutral about it, like my mom would come up to me in the room I have at their house (I moved on my own four years ago at more than 100 kilometers for my studies) to talk “with” me. On this occasions, she has made fun of me, insulted me, but never threatened me. Here are some very hurtful, totally free gems:
Mom : Transsexuals are just circus creeps.
Me *hurt and outraged* : Mom, that’s transphobic!
Mom *looking kind of proud of her* : Well I AM transphobic!
(FYI: besides the “circus creep”, about which I believe anyone could understand why the fuck it’s offensive to anyone and not just trans people, transsexual is a term to use with caution since it’s related to pathologizing transidentity and to our genitals, which are private parts as one may or may not know.)
Mom : I don’t get it. You’re a beautiful girl!
(Some random strangers told me that, too, when I corrected the way they talked about me. Please random strangers, stop that.)
This one happens right after I communicated them the new name I had to pick alone since they wouldn’t help me. For me, it meant a lot because I figured out a huge problem I felt like I had to deal with really quick.
Mom : What if I came up to you, telling you that from now on I wanted to be a man and that I would like to be called [Ridiculous male name] ?
Luckily, I knew instantly where she was hoping to go with this, and, even tho I was completely baffled by her behavior and I had to take a few seconds processing that she, indeed, said that before answering, instead of arguing I said “I would accept that and call you dad.” and then went back to whatever I was doing, shaken.
She also sometimes came in for long rants, at the morning, and then went out crying as if I was an horrible brat, resulting in this scene :
Dad *on a tone of reproach* : What happened again ? Your mom’s crying!
Me *wiping off my own tears* : Well she came in, said a ton of horrible stuff, that I denied. I may have been a little harsh but I wasn’t rude or mean to her.
Dad : Oh, ok. *leaves*
(Mind you, I was crying alone and I don’t recall my father making sure I was ok, too, before going to comfort my mom. That makes it one of the worst moments of this period. I was left alone for a long time, trying to be as silent as possible while crying from fear to being yelled at, with no phone network and bad internet, early in the morning so no support until my sister comes by to use my bathroom and sees me cry.)
My dad would just sit through my mom’s shit, doing nothing to stop her, resulting in me not trusting them anymore and barely wanting to visit. He would sometimes join in about how “unauthentic” it felt to him calling me his son. To avoid my mom’s rants, I made sure my sister was in each time I would come by and stayed with her all the time because no one in the family, including me, wants to see her cry.
However, we had a fight around the time they suddenly decided to call me my chosen name and use the correct pronouns (but I believe that’s more from my grandma scolding my mom than from them wanting to respect me so it feels likes they are just going with it not to make me mad). The fight resulted in a quiet apology from my dad and nothing from my mom. I still don’t trust them and tell them as few as I can. I’m not telling any little unimportant thing to the woman who send me a letter as if she was talking to a shitty dumbass, and I’m not going to let her forget that she did that.