Okay, I know I’m jumping the gun on this title by a week, but it works too good to pass up. This entry may feel a bit scattered, but there’s a culmination of events that have occured that really need to be chronicled.

As you may remember from previous posts, last Saturday I mailed off a coming out letting to my parents. And jangled nerves ensued. I expected them to receive it Wednesday and anticipated giving them a call on Thursday to hear their reaction.

On Thursday, I did my typical routine of going into the city for my doctor’s appointment and doing a little thrift store shopping. On the ferry I had an embarassing moment. I decided I didn’t want to sit in the car and do nothing the whole time so I ran upstairs (careful to watch for anyone who might recognize me) and picked up the new issue of Wired. But as I tried the purcase it, the woman behind the counter says “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this card. You’re not… David.” OMG! And a line-up behind me. This is everything I never wanted to happen. But instead I didn’t miss a beat, I just said “yes I am.” She asked to see some ID, so I showed her my driver’s license and she processed the transaction apologizing. I walked back down to my car with a big ol’ grin on my face. That meant I was passing. What a great compliment. I didn’t worry about the fact that I had been exposed as a transsexual… that my veil had been lifted to show who I really was. It didn’t seem to matter.

Then at the doctor I received an increase to 2mg of estrogen. Now here’s how I’ve got irrefutable proof that I’m a woman. When I got my new perscription, I noted how they are an ugly green colour instead of a pretty purple colour like my 1mg pills. Only a woman would try to colour coordinate her hormones. My doc was touring around a student, so she sat in with us during the visit. There was one moment where my doc turned to the young girls and started talking about me saying “Ashley is doing this… she’s been doing that….” And it felt really weird and neat to hear myself being talked about in the 3rd person like that with those pronouns.

Then I open up the Georgia Straight and check out my horoscope as I like to do:

Fucking freaky!

After a long day I got home and didn’t get a chance to call my parents. I did receive a multitude of frantic email messages from friends wondering if I was okay. It’s so wonderful to know I have so many true friends who care so much about me. It really makes me feel good. I’ve actually been getting a lot of praise from people about the work I do at the TRC on Second Life. It means a lot to people the amount of time I put in and how much I extend myself to others. It just makes me feel good to be there for people and help them through such a difficult thing. I told myself I was going to get up early on Friday morning and give them a call.

Friday morning… slept in late. Probably on purpose. By the time I got to the store, there was no time to call my parents. Oh well. I figured I’d put it off til Sunday when I had the whole morning off. Jani gave me shit and made me promise to call on Saturday.

Saturday morning. Maybe just 5 more minutes of Tomb Raider and then I’ll call. No wait, I have to have my tea before I talk to them. Dial the number. All but the last digit. Hang up. I can’t do this, maybe tomorrow. No, I’ve got to do it today. My parents deserve better than to be kept hanging like this. My mom is probably totally frantic. Or maybe, they’ll be totally cool and tell me how much the think it’s a great idea and saw it coming a mile away. Yeah right.

I make the call. My mom answers. Thank god, I was worried about talking to my dad first. She tells me right off the bat that they got the letter and that they are completely fine with it and will totally accept me as a woman. OMG! Honestly, the rest of the conversation was pretty much a blur. I do remember at one point my mom called me her daughter. If you want to make your hormonal transsexual child cry, call them your daughter. Hell I made myself cry a few days ago when I realized that yes, I will be may parent’s daughter. It’s just one simple word, but has so much meaning for me. I am not longer a son and a brother, I am a daughter and a sister. Then I talked to my father, and he was every bit as accepting and supportive. I was really worried about that. I never thought for a moment that he would reject me, but I figured he might have some difficulties with it. He’s a man’s man type of guy and I was always his son. Also guys as a whole feel a little threatend by transsexuality. I was worried that it may just be too weird for him to deal with. But no, he was incredible. They’re both exactly everything you ever hope your parents would be. I’m so blessed. At this point I can’t wait to go visit.

But then last night I started to get a little worried. As I continued to reflect on how cool my parents are, I was reminded of my ex. How in the beginning she embraced me and said she would stick by me. That it didn’t matter to her if I was a man or woman. And how quickly that all changed. I worried my parents were feeling some kind of acceptance euphoria, and that it would slowly devolve into difficulties. It almost had the feeling of when you start planning your wedding after you have 1 date with a girl you liked. Hold up sister, give their feelings time to catch up. But these are my parents. They love me no matter what. And what they said on the phone was not reactionary acceptance, it was thought out and rationalized. I guess I’m just waiting to have the wind taken out of my sails.

So I’m completely flying high. And to top it off, my boobs started hurting. Not just nipple irritation, but the tissue behind the nipples. It feels bruised and sore. That’s breast growth. I am Jill’s euphoric joy.

But the real fulfillment comes from a sense that I have achieved total acceptance. Yes, that’s right. Not just acceptance of who and what I am, but of who and want I was. It all occurred when I was having a conversation with my friend Darcie and we were discussing our daughters. She told me how she explained to her daughter she was her daughter’s daddy and no one could take that away. And that sank in. I am my daughter’s father. I will always be my daughter’s father. I know this to be true, because I fathered her. And nothing will ever erase or change that fact. Much like my 32 years spent male. I can never erase or change those. So honestly, why hide them. Why pretend it doesn’t exist. I doesn’t make sense. That’s why on the ferry, I was able to tell the woman that yes, I am the person that male name belongs to. I completely exposed myself as a transsexual and it didn’t matter. I still held my head up high as the proud and beautiful woman that I am. Wow! Some people spend their entire lives not getting to this place.

Just do me a favour and go back and read one of my blog’s from April. Only two short months ago. And I just keep getting happier and happier.

Ashley