I’m crying this morning. My grandma found photos of my whole family and her from 2006. We were wearing matching Montana shirts and hats in Virginia Beach. I would have been 10. My sister had braces, and she’s like totally derpy in all the photos. My parents used to have a beach house. We loved that beach house.

After my dad transitioned

I have this idealization of my early childhood. Like everything was somehow perfect at the time, before it all got bad. I think one of the most unique things about having a transparent is that I can’t look at my father anymore and see my lineage. It’s one of those things you only know about on the other side. You only value when it’s gone.

And I can still look at her for how she's a mirror for me, but there’s something quite special, and quite human, about seeing your ancestors in the face of your family. Of where you came from. Seeing your face next to that face and knowing you’re really tied here, really tethered to a long line of people with the same face, the same nose, the same hair, the same goofy smile, and small upper lip. I don’t know if I would look more like my dad right now at 29, because I haven’t seen my dad’s face since I was 16. I’m reminded today just how much grief I still hold about my father’s transition.

They (therapists) talk about grieving the loss of a person who transitions in the same way you would if someone died. It’s one of the only good things therapists said to us at the time. Because so many people, society, the LGBT community, the liberal party, and especially my dad, did not want to acknowledge the grief. The grief of losing someone. Losing a face you know.

It’s an odd kind of loss, too. Because that person’s soul is still here. Their spirit and their energy still in the room. It’s just their body is different. Changed. Altered, often drastically. You loved them, and you don’t understand why they needed to change like that. Why they didn't love their body in the way you did. I was proud to have my dad as my dad, in that big, strong, male body. My father went through a lot of surgeries that were hard to swallow. Ribs removed, black and blue. I couldn’t look at my father for six years because of how much grief I was holding.

I’ve read stories of widows and people who lose children. They say that grief goes away, but there’s some of it that’s just always there. I feel the same way about this. What I didn’t get as a child, though, was any acknowledgment that grief is valid here. I’m not blaming anyone today. I think they were all doing the best they could at the time, but I have not personally met a family that wasn’t heartbroken by a parent or child transitioning. I personally know six families with a parent or child who transitioned. That’s not hundreds, but it’s enough to see a pattern with your own eyes and to know, personally, the stories of grief around transition.

I remember when it all happened, somehow the local news agency got hold of the story (I have no idea how they did). They came to the house, and they all asked us how we were dealing with it. I said I’m not happy about it, and I’m hurting. They didn’t put me on the segment. They didn’t even ask me to be in the room while they were filming at all. My mom was there, who had Vicki with her, who was saying things like, “we’re so supportive”. That’s the only story they wanted to air.

A lot of us who go through this have been silenced. Our grief brushed under the rug or weaponized against us in slurs and ideology. Because if you’re not going to be affirming, then don’t say anything at all.

Kardashians

At the same time my dad transitioned, the Kardashians were going through one too, and very publicly. I’ve always felt this weird tie to them because of that.

My dad at the time just called me a bigot if I had a hard time with the transition. The whole world did. I mean, look at the Kardashians, they even had that publicly with Caitlin. I was 16. Kylie was 17 and Kendall was 19. We must just all have been transphobic, right? That there couldn’t possibly be a reason why you would be sad for your father to no longer be your dad. I loved my dad as Dad.

I haven’t heard a lot of stories like mine. I’m surprised I haven’t heard the Jenner girls tell their story yet. I know it’s very rare to have a transparent at all. Less than 1% (.06) of the US population is transgender. Of that, 12% of transgender adults in the US are male parents.

It’s been a lifelong journey to try to understand why my parent transitioned. It didn’t feel like Dad. It didn’t feel like what Dad taught us or who Dad was. It truly came out of left field. There are lots of voices on many perspectives, either confirming or questioning the nature of transhood. I think, as a collective, we’re still very much in a time of inquiry and research. I’ve seen research connecting transhood to Autism and to Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I’m not a professional, so I don’t know and I definitely will not try to boil it down to one thing.

I only have my personal story of grief and loss, of what it was like for me and what I saw. Of who I am today and where I’ve been, and of finding a new way of life after it.

Love,
Val