Father’s Day is here which represents yet another potentially awkward day to remember.
In my travels across social media, I see all types of responses to Father’s Day. All the way from total acceptance of a transgender woman who used to be a father, to no acceptance at all.
Long ago, my daughter came to the decision she would refer to me as a “parent” and leave a gender specific label out of it. I thought it was a great idea.
My own Dad was rather emotionally distant and never learned a thing about my transgender leanings. Looking back on our relationship, it is very difficult for me to predict how he would have reacted. If my Mom’s reaction was any indication, it wouldn’t have been positive.
Both of them were part of the WWII/Depression generation which were long on being providers and short on being emotionally accessible. After all, my Mom offered access to advanced psychiatric treatment when I came out to her. The subject was never spoken of again. More than likely, any conversations with Dad would have led to uncomfortable conclusions about a subject we neither knew much about.
Either way, I would have to have taken the path of accept me or else. Which would have put me on a collision course with my parents attitude of mental illness. Get treatment and get over it.
Looking back on my interactions with either of my parents, I wish I had taken a more active approach.
Even though, I never heard it from him, Dad I love you and thanks for all you did do.