Nine months ago, my fiance told me that he had seen my dad posting under a different Facebook name. “Jessica”. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t think too much of it. My dad was always doing his own thing. If he felt like using a different name on Facebook, I didn’t really read too much into it. But then my fiance pulled it up and said that my dad had a profile picture, and he was dressed as a woman. It felt like something we weren’t supposed to see.
I wanted to talk to my dad. I didn’t know how long anything had been going on for or how serious anything was. But I wanted him to know right away that I would be there to support him and her.
When I confronted my dad about the Facebook profile, she was hesitant to disclose much. But as I talked more, she opened up more. Overwhelmingly, my initial reaction was relief. There had been so much in my life that was seemingly inexplicable about my dad — his absence for 8 years during my childhood, his broken marriage with my mother, his odd disposition of aloofness and anxiousness — and it all seemed to make sense.
I wanted my dad to know I supported her, and I am glad that my initial reaction was to do express that. I have never seen my dad as happy as she was that day, telling me everything, and answering all of my questions.
But after the my initial waves of emotions subsided, I was left with much uglier feelings. My father was living a second life as a woman, and had been for the last 25 years. At this point 95% of her time was being spent as a woman. And we weren’t part of that. And we weren’t written into that. As I thought more about my father and her hidden life, it struck me that we were the hidden life. Feelings of rejection, betrayal, and at some points a complete distrust of reality overwhelmed me for the next few months. They still do.
I felt utterly alone. My other family members rejected Jessica. I didn’t want to talk to Jessica about it for fear of hurting her feelings at a time when she needed to be supported. Talking to friends was out of the question, since Jessica didn’t want anyone to know about her. (People in Jessica’s life only know Jessica, they don’t know that she has a second life). I found myself relying on re-runs of Keeping up with the Kardashians for support. That’s when I knew I had hit rock bottom.
Luckily, I found COLAGE, just when I was entering the eye of the storm. In some ways, I think I still am in the eye of the storm (planning a wedding while all of this is going on is a whole ‘nother blog post!). But finding COLAGE and other people who are experiencing similar feelings was life-changing for me.
The most important thing was seeing that all my feelings are valid, that other people in my situation exist and have similar feelings. I feel so much guilt for some of the uglier feelings I experience. There’s just so many different things happening at once. There are complications with my family, now that everyone knows and everyone is at different points of the process. There is divorce. There is happiness and relief, and getting to know Jessica. There is grief and confusion about where “Dad” is and has gone. There’s a rewriting of my childhood, and a reassessment of what I think it means to love someone unconditionally.
Despite being a writer for this blog, it’s important to know that I am certainly far from figuring anything out. I can’t promise that my opinions and emotions won’t change from one blog post to the next. I can’t promise you that I’ll use the right pronouns for my dad all the time. I certainly can’t promise any answers or a Five Step Plan for Processing Transitions. And I can’t even promise that reading this blog will make you feel any better.
But I do hope that by sharing my journey, I can promise you that you are not alone. Thank you for being by my side.
Olivia
Pronouns (she/her)
