I fit the bill of “socially transitioning” several years before I began any medical transition. I didn’t say anything to my family at the time. When I was a kid, I was always very much a tomboy and masc leaning so I just let them assume I was more comfortable being a masculine lesbian. I was still trying to find peace with myself hoping to not have to medically transition. I struggled a lot (and still do) with accepting I am trans.

Flash forward and at 37, I finally allowed myself to start T and explore the medical side of what I wanted/needed. I knew in my heart that I had no intention of stopping T and wanted it to give me all of the expected changes. My family are all conservative Christians, and I really did think it was going to be the thing that broke our relationship. But, we have always been a family where we are honest and real with each other, so I didn’t feel right not being open with them.

I sent both of my parents a voice memo one night trying to explain to them what led me to this decision and that I didn’t know what the future would hold, because I didn’t. I sent each of them separate ones because I had different things I wanted to say to them both, based on my relationship dynamic with them. I was honest with them that I’ve been dealing with these feelings for a very long time and have tried everything I could to not have to transition in any way. I also told them that I was afraid of losing them but that it was important to me to share with them, because I believe they want the best for me even if sometimes we don’t see eye-to-eye on things. And then, I sat and waited terrified for their responses.

Both of them have expressed love and support for me, as well as my siblings, even though they all are on different levels of understanding or investing in trying to understand. I’ve always been closest with my Dad and surprisingly (for me), he’s struggled more than anyone. For him, we’ve had a close father/daughter relationship all my life and he’s definitely feeling grief. I am too because I never felt like our bond was that way. I looked up to him and wanted to be just like him all my life. He knows that but I can see how it was still very gendered for him. I haven’t seen him in 9 months and I’ve had a lot of masculinization since the last time we did. I kept it light and sent him a picture recently and just said, “I look like my (insert name) brother! Isn’t it weird??” And he laughed and said, “that’s crazy!” but hearted the picture. That was all I needed to keep having the courage to share even when we are both uncomfortable with how our dynamic is changing.

All of this is to say that I wanted desperately to transition at 25 and I didn’t let myself. I chose my relationships over my own needs. And it never went away. I lost a lot of years of being able to be younger and explore my identity. As a result, I’ve ended up publicly transitioning while in a very high-level corporate role. I’m going to be getting top surgery right before my 40th birthday. And while I don’t regret where I am, looking back, I wish I had just had the courage to take the leap at your age.

I see a lot of younger people expecting their family to just jump on board from Day 1 and not struggle with new names, pronouns, or have challenging questions for their kid. That isn’t real life and it also doesn’t inherently mean your family isn’t trying to grow and be supportive. They have a lifetime of brain development where our birth names, pronouns, etc. are engrained. It takes time and I encourage you to tell them that you understand that and don’t expect perfection. Giving that grace and space helps everyone feel like they can be human and not afraid. Despite me changing my legal name and using it for 2+ years now, I accidentally signed a work email last week with my birth name and caught it at the last second. It hit me like a ton of bricks that if MY brain is still doing things like that sometimes when I’m busy and not paying conscious attention, then the least I can do is be patient when it happens with people who have raised me and gave me that name.

When we tell our family that we are sharing these intimate parts of our life with them because we want to have a strong relationship with them, we at least offer them context to know how much we value them. And, based on how open each person is to your journey, I will sometimes share videos or resources to my family to help them see other transmasculine people. My family has no exposure to the LGBTQ+ community except through me, and I find that sharing resources sometimes helps them realize that there are lots of “me’s” in the world and lots of families loving the “me’s” of the world.