Watson

The most repeated line I’ve heard from family over the past few months is “do whatever feels right for you, don’t let anyone else influence you.” They have maintained since the beginning that they’ll support me, whatever I do, so I shouldn’t worry about them. 2/9

Yesterday, I sent my sister a photo of me in my wig and make-up, resembling pre-transition me. She called me immediately, crying inconsolably. I thought something was wrong. But then she began to repeat, “my wee sister, it’s my wee sister.” 3/9

When I began transition, I knew it would be a difficult adjustment for my family. They were losing a daughter/sister and gaining a son/brother they had never asked for. My sister told me seeing that photo was like seeing a dead loved one brought back to life. 4/9

I’m now beginning to realize just how much pain my family kept hidden from me because they didn’t want to hurt me. They bottled up their anguish to support me, regardless of their own reservations, because they held my feelings in a higher regard than their own. 5/9

My best friend had said, “live as a man or a woman, I don’t care, you’ll always be my best mate.” But when she saw the photo, she cried too. She was taken so aback by the face of someone she’d had to say goodbye to years ago. 6/9

All these years my family and friends smiled and supported me. They treated me like the man they thought I wanted to be, because they love me. But all this time they’d been grieving deeply for a loss they were not allowed to grieve for. 7/9

The whole experience has made me realize how little thought and sympathy is given to the families of transitioners. They’re expected to be fully supportive and encouraging – to smile and celebrate their “new” loved one, lest they be deemed “transphobic” and “abusive.” 8/9