This past Christmas was simultaneously the worst and best of my life. How is it possible for just a few days to differ so drastically? What influenced this? I was someone else in the first instance, and simply myself in the second. Such a simple explanation, yet so difficult for others to understand.
The Worst Christmas Eve
In my previous post, I wrote that I am a transgender person. This now means that I’ve been coming out almost everywhere. One exception, however, is my wife’s family. Together, we decided not to tell Magda’s grandmother about my feminine nature for now. This meant I had to “pretend to be a man” for one day.
This was probably the worst Christmas Eve of my life. I wasn’t myself—I couldn’t paint my nails, do my makeup, or wear a dress. Sure, I was wearing a women’s blouse and technically women’s pants, but I didn’t feel feminine. Everyone addressed me by my deadname. While eating, Magda’s grandmother even remarked that as a man, I should eat a lot. Ah, those stereotypes…
Living as a woman daily, with my wife addressing me using female pronouns, it’s very difficult to go back to my “previous life.” It’s becoming increasingly painful for me. My wife saw how much I was suffering and apologized to me. My life has changed irreversibly, and I can’t imagine any path other than transitioning. That’s why now I “dress up” as a man, not the other way around—and it brings me no joy.
The Journey
Fortunately, on Christmas Day, we were going to visit my parents. All morning and afternoon, I felt down and just wanted to leave that place as quickly as possible. It took a while, but we managed. The plan was for me to change and do my makeup somewhere along the way.
As soon as we left the city and found a side road, I stopped the car and began my transformation. Changing clothes and doing makeup in a car with dim lighting isn’t exactly convenient, but I managed—and quite quickly, too. It took me about fifteen minutes, and the result was pretty good.
My mood changed dramatically. A smile returned to my face, and I started to feel happy again, joking and laughing. I felt that this Christmas could still be good. My wife and I even dressed almost identically: matching blouses and skirts (which I had sewn, though in different colors) and identical shoes. In high spirits, we set off on the long journey to my parents’ house.
The Best Christmas
We arrived in the evening. Two weeks earlier, I had come out to my parents as transgender, so they weren’t surprised to see me in my “prettier” form. They welcomed us warmly. I was brimming with joy. I couldn’t stop smiling all evening, and I even felt like dancing.
My parents still sometimes slip up with pronouns and my name, but I know they’re trying. It’s hard to undo thirty years of habits so quickly. They accept me 100%, and I’m incredibly grateful for that.
The positive atmosphere continued throughout the next two days. We spent a lot of time together, talking about me and our overall situation. My parents are interested and supportive, though they worry about how the extended family will react. My sister, her husband, and their two-year-old son also dropped by briefly. It was their first time seeing me as Sonia, and they accept me as well. I could sense some distance from my brother-in-law, but I understand they need time to process. I don’t hold it against them. My nephew smiled at me—I know he’ll accept me too.
Summary
I wish every Christmas could be like this, where I can be myself and my loved ones accept me. Unfortunately, I know it won’t happen immediately, and I’ll need to wait for some people to come around. I don’t want to force anything on my wife. Ideally, I’d come out everywhere right now, but I know she’ll bear the brunt of unpleasant comments afterward. That’s why we’re waiting.
I also know that once I start taking hormones, certain physical changes will begin, and they’ll be impossible to hide. At that point, we’ll see how Magda’s family and my extended family react. I’m curious about that day and am considering various scenarios. What I do know is that I won’t give up on my happiness.
