It is a fairly common reaction that coming out to our nearest and dearest is meet with a degree of grief, even when they are supportive. To those close to us, the fact that we have accepted ourselves and are taking steps to be happy is hardly the course of celebration we would like. Instead, their support is tempered by grief, both for the person they thought they knew and the future they imagined. As much as we don’t like it and certain things might just get to us, giving people time is important, especially if we want them in our lives. However, that doesn’t mean that we have to accept some indefinite period of morning or an over dramatic exaggeration of the truth. Alongside the guilt, this reinforces for causing others pain the idea that people are morning our loss contributes to a overall low sense of self worth. All this can led to pretty negative mindset and is one of the reasons why transition is so hard.

Understanding their grief

Part of transitioning seems to be that everyone else expects you to understand how they are feeling and accept that they need space to grieve. This means in the early days that we need to explain ourselves and convince them this is not some sort of phase. Thankfully, in my case, dealing with this period of what can become to resemble denial was very quick as no one seemed to doubt that I had thought things through. However, that didn’t stop people in my life from entering the bargaining stage like negotiating for me to take my transition slow in return for their support. Of course, mixed in there somewhere was a lot of anger from different people who felt I had been dishonest and hurt others, which seemed to alternate a bit with depression. Eventually, everyone seemed to accept that I was now Jeanette, but that didn’t end the grief but just made it more focused on what that actually meant.

Accepting my transition was a moment that really brought home to people that sense that they had lost something. They lost a son, a husband, or seemingly a friend, and this meant they also lost the future they had expected. This is perhaps the part that I struggled with the most since I am still here, and while these roles might change, I was still around to be a loving spouse and child. The core of this dilemma is that to most Cis people transition seems like losing one person and someone new coming to take their place. However, in my mind, I have always been the same person but are finally able to explore and express all aspects of my true self rather than keeping it hidden. In many cases, these different perspective is the basis of so many ongoing issues as it means our loved ones struggle to connect in the same way because they see us as a separate person.

Adding to our existing pain

I can understand the need to grieve but also get frustrated that it seems to place a heavy burden on us to support our loved ones right at the time when we are perhaps struggling the most. The repeated need to explain dysphoria, our desire for HRT, and all the other intricacies of trans experience is tiring, especially when you feel like you’re covering the same ground. Even the need to find support and resources for family seems to fall on us rather than anyone really trying to look after us as we deal with our next steps. The hardest part, however, is that inevitably, we are asked to take it slow or hold off so that our family have time to process and come to terms. To outsiders, this might seem reasonable, but it is a crushing weight that symbolises our lives, sacrificing ourselves to make other people comfortable. In addition, it is a delay to the release of so much pent up emotions and some chance to seek out some inner peace.

To be honest I didn’t really take most things too slow as I was changing my name within about 6 months and had made significant steps towards a female wardrobe. However, the one regret I do have is delaying the start of HRT which at first seemed like it might be a few months, a manageable concession to make, but quickly stretched to nearly 18 months. It was tortuous knowing that these personal agreements and concessions were preventing me from starting treatment and denying me the sense of peace I desperately needed. The last few months especially, things were pretty dark as the other areas I could make progress in were starting to get a little harder to find. Looking back now almost a year on I feel the decision to hold off not only robbed me of time I could have had feeling more at peace but really poisoned the relationship.

Grief is a massive hit to our self worth

Grief is synonymous with pain and, as a result, is the source of soooo much guilt. After all, seeing people going through such grief is always heart-wrenching. Hearing the person you love the most cry in another room knowing your the cause is truly the worst feeling in the world. So it isn’t surprising that I, like many others, have felt guilty of the impact I was having on the people important to me. I have felt guilty for coming out and guilty for my very existence, which is the reason why I agreed to delay my HRT in the first place. It means that, as a result, I have really struggled with self-worth and have at times a fairly low perception of what I deserve. These sorts of feelings are unfortunately pretty common in the trans community and contribute to the shocking statistics on mental health as too many of us contemplate suicide even after coming out.

This feeling is really difficult to manage, especially since, in my case and many others we contemplated such drastic action before coming out. It is obviously not something I openly talk about too much with my family in part to avoid scaring them, but there have been times that I was close to breaking point. At these low points, the impact that I would have on them was one of the biggest factors holding me back from the abyss. So to have family talk about me like I am dead is a real kick in the guts and has made me wonder more than once why I have put myself through so much shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled back. At least maybe I should have cut ties and started fresh. At least that way, I wouldn’t be party to my own ongoing funeral.

Need to have better ways to manage grief

It is impossible to control the way we feel and I am never one to invalidate someone’s emotions. So obviously, I am not suggesting our families and loved ones shouldn’t grieve as much as I wish they didn’t, but rather, there needs to be a better way of dealing with it. Something as simple as recognising that it isn’t fair to ask us to wait or take it slow would make a huge difference to addressing the negative impact. Perhaps their really are no easy answer, though, and maybe it just needs a perception change after all, we are still here and want to have a positive relationship. We are taking the step to open up and want to bring people along on our journey, so maybe it is about embracing the joy and excitement of something new rather then dwelling on loss.