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Parental Transsexual Family Disposition

Wednesday

Chapter 5 - Important notes for YOU as a TG dad or mom



   You know I never saw this coming in a million years. All my feelings against my dad were buried so deep there is no way I could of foreseen it. As I got older the one thing I can relate to you is no matter when you decide to come out, consider these things;

     First of all, your duty is to your kids, If you don't have kids then great, you should come out ASAP so as not too waste your significant others time but if you have kids, you need to make sure you (and this is the most important one) don't ever make it about you! I know your feelings need to be addressed too but you got yourself in this family and if you want the best result than this isn't going to just be quick. "oh well I'll just drop my family like that". Say that to yourself! Imagine if your dad or mom did that to you! How do you think you would feel? and then add the fact that these are kids, they don't understand why you're doing that to them and it takes years for them to figure out why. "how could my dad or mom just leave us like that". I cant tell you how many times I thought about that.

       Maybe that had an effect on how I look at TG. I mean my experience is that, it ripped my family apart and turned my dad into a person who is full of hate on everybody, cold, callous and just non empathetic. As I sit here now its Nov 19 2013 and I'm listing to Ray Charles - The Sprite Of Christmas, I can think back to some Christmas where good times were had, but I cannot remember my dad on Christmas at all. Sometimes when people try to force things on others they get upset cause you tried to take control of them. In family there is no one person in control, Family has structure and limits and boundaries and needs compassionate smart parents who are willing to put the kids before anything else. Everyone has a role in a healthy family. You cant just start taking things away cause it suits you best and not expect something to happen.

      I remember when my dad told me about his story he brought the bible into to it. I remember being smart enough to know that was wrong at the time. I didn't know that my opinion on it would change but at the time I thought the bible forbid it, and it does forbid it but the thing is god said tho shall not judge. I'm not him, I don't know what he went thru to make him convinced it was the right thing to do, but now I don't think that way anymore no. I know exactly why I was so mad, our dad walked out on us, not just me and my sister but my mom too. Her health went down and she got sick and my mom was poor so we didn't have as full of a life after that point. We didn't miss out on much at the same time, my mom went without sometimes for me and my sister but I just didn't think it was fair.

     I can remember we went on vacation a few times when we were kids and my mom and dad and my sister and I would have so much fun, those are times I can remember clear as a bell. After my mom and dad split up and as a result of my moms declining health I felt like I didn't have a bond with my mom or dad anymore. I felt alone, I felt like I couldn't talk to anyone so I did drugs for a couple years. I wasn't one of those kids of drug addicts that would go for months on end tho, I never took needles and I snorted or smoked everything. Even a few years before my mom passed away I begged her to do things with me but she always said she was too sick and I believed her but I resented my dad for alot of it.

     When I think back to the divorce and around that time I remember it being alot about him too. You know as adults its funny I think we only remember so much about people in our life. If you fill you kids memories with bad things, as he or she gets older they will start to forget the good and only remember the bad about you, that's not to say its too late to shape up your act but this is how I feel. I remember more bad about my dad, I remember 4 good memories with my dad and 2 he was just in the memory not actually part of it, I can just remember him being there. The other 2 memories where times I felt a bond building with him, These where always short lived and pretty much ended as soon as I got the belt to my ass again or when he finally moved out after the divorce.

 
Old Family Photo
 All in all I think its important to remember that the best time to come out is after your kids are 19 but if you cant wait, you have better be ready for what is going to happen. I'm not saying everyone's family is going to act the same way but if you come out as "me me me" then your going to leave with nothing but yourself. "me me me" doesn't leave any room for understanding or family, it's all about you. anyway this blog is done, if you have any questions email me @ shaun_1982@Hotmail.com Thanks, Shaun Senechal :) PS anyone wanna correct my grammar ill email you the post and you can fix it for me? :)

Friday

Chapter 3 - Day by Day


Before I get into my personal thoughts I must warn you that what I have to say may seem offensive or shocking to you. You might be concerned that I have no recovery path planned out. The fact is that I have tried many paths – exercise, talking to people, distraction – I’ve received tons of ideas from people and, so far, they either don’t work for me or only suppress the pain for a little while. Picture losing someone you love in a horrific car accident; that’s how I feel about my dad, except that it never heals because he’s still out there. How do you stop something like that by talking about it?

I have been looking for the answers since I was 13 years old but not finding any. There were no groups available for kids like me, none of the counselors, shrinks or doctors I had access to were trained in this area and those I did see only seemed to leave me more confused. The only thing counseling gave me that I didn’t already get from family and friends was the vulnerability of opening up to a complete stranger.

Making and keeping friends has been hard. A friendship is like building a house – with the right materials and care it will stand up to time, but with poor materials and inconsistent effort it will fall apart. With this matter so constantly on my mind I never seem to be able to remember all the little things that matter most: saying thanks when its due, acknowledging birthdays or simply showing people that I care. I’ll say something that’s wrong or insensitive and not realize until it’s already too late. Sometimes I’d seem to get it right but eventually the issues would take over and I’d discover that my friendships were all based on superficial things which couldn’t stand up to the pressure. I know that a negative mindset will effect everything around me yet I can’t seem to break out of that mold. It has made me wonder if, deep down, I truly want to be a loner with little regard for others though that lifestyle certainly hasn’t seemed any easier or made me any happier. Putting this kind of thing into words has always been difficult for me; I never seem to be able to explain exactly what I’m feeling or what I truly mean.
Work has been no different. I’ve found that the true key to being good at a job is mood, not experience. I’ve had many jobs which probably should have gone to someone with more experience and have done fairly well for the first few weeks. Then I learn the task well enough that it no longer takes my complete concentration and the thoughts creep back in. My mind starts to fixate more and more on the negative thoughts until I can no longer think straight or remember things clearly. I get touchy and frustrated, which makes me hard to deal with, which gets me in trouble, making me more frustrated and quickly leading to a point where I either have to quit or get fired. These thoughts take over my life completely, 24/7 and though I know that to others my behaviour may seem incomprehensible I can’t seem to break past the overwhelming internal pain to deal with my external problems. The only time I seem to be able to keep from getting bored or thinking about my dad too much is when I’m on my computer, surfing around to whatever catches my eye.

Honestly, I do understand that the lives of transgendered and transsexual people can be very rough but there are a lot of other people who are affected by this issue as well, and they seem to be forgotten. That’s why I feel I need to get this out there, so that others will understand that the voices of those swept away along the sidelines are just as important, and so that others like me realize that they aren’t alone.

Saturday

Chapter 2 - An Afterglow Through Time


Chapter 2 – An Afterglow Through Time


     I would like to start by telling you my views on the transgendered as someone who was brought up in a Christian family.

     For the first couple of years after my father told us about himself I didn't understand enough about transsexuals to really have an opinion. Being young and ignorant I had some pretty harsh prejudice for those people, based only on my pain and the uninformed jokes and comments I had heard from others. When I was about 15 I got really depressed and my mom suggested I go see a specialist who deals with transgendered and transsexual issues. She hoped that this would put my mind at ease and try to explain what was happening with my dad. I was informed that transsexuals have a difference in their brain which makes them want to be the opposite sex and that it shows up in one of three ways. For some there are signs their entire lives which parents may or may not notice, then during adolescence they begin to want a change of sex, or at least start thinking about it. For others it is a sudden shift, with a random thought that life would be better as the opposite sex triggering the desire to change. In some cases a person does something normally perceived as feminine or masculine and it starts them thinking along these lines. I'm not certain this is actually true but it helped put me at ease for a while, at least until I got a little older.

     As a kid I can remember not having a father figure around. Shaving and all the other things I needed to learn to grow into a man I had to learn for myself. Once my dad told me and my sister about his secret he hastily moved out to start his new life. I felt so unloved and confused. All those times I took off to cry I remember wondering, "how is this happening?” over and over for weeks. Basically my dad might as well have died. It in a way was kind of like when my mom was in a coma, there was nothing I could do about it. I could pray or try to talk to him but he had his mind set and nothing was going to change. For the longest time, and even now, I am convinced that there is some selfishness to it. My dad has been saying for the last few years that he now wishes he never had the operation, but when I ask him way he doesn’t  just start dressing like a guy again he says its not that easy to go back and refuses. I guess I don’t understand but I can’t help feeling that I want my dad back really badly. One thing he keeps saying is that God is going to cure him but, as I was taught in church, God won’t do everything for you. You have to make some effort too and my dad won’t, so I’m not convinced he’s telling me the truth. I think a part of it is him trying to tell me what he thinks I want to hear.

     I always wonder what life would be like if this hadn’t happened. When this kind of thing happens in a family it is always a big event which causes changes and hardships. The repercussions and emotions of such a huge transformation alter everything. I wonder if we’d still have moved back to BC or if we’d have stayed in Ontario. I wonder if my mom would still be alive. I don’t blame my mom’s death on my dad, but I have to wonder if the stress made her health problems worse. I know my life would have been different but how much of who I am now is because of this situation and how much is who I would have been anyway? I'll never know. All I can do is keep learning new things and sometimes surprising myself with what I find.

      I also wonder how many people there are like me. I saw a picture once of 6 transgendered individuals, both sexes, and they looked like normal people, not like the stereotyped ones you see downtown or on Jerry Springer. With  these people you couldn't tell the difference. Yet I look at my father and all I see is a really messed up version of my dad. I understand that it is a issue with me but I can’t help it, it’s too hard to accept that this stranger is my dad. I don’t have a problem with other transgendered people but I just can’t handle the change that took my dad from me. 

Thursday

A Sight In Mind

Introduction

         It was on a sunny day, She remembered that day clear as a bell. The man was not a tall man reaching only 5,6 he was shorter than she had been used too, but there was something about him. Maybe it was his hazel brown eyes, or maybe it was his French accent, or maybe it was the way his eyes sparkled, she didn't know but she instantly felt like she had a connection,  but she would never be prepared for what life had in store for her. ~ Julie Senechal (Mother)

Wednesday

Chapter 1 - Through A Son's Eyes

Me
We all have the stories from our childhood which define us; our first bike, first game system, best friends. For these commonplace memories I am no different – but I also have the memories which set me apart.
My mother was a great mom. She always tried to be the best wife, the best mom and the best person she could be and she was truly a good person; the kind of good most people can only aspire to. She was born in 1957 and passed away on December 16, 2009; a too-short life that never had a chance to be normal.
She grew up in the wilds of Ontario, following her forest ranger father into remote areas. He was an abusive alcoholic, and most of her days were spent trying to stay as far away from the house as possible. This was her daily life until she was able to move in with an aunt at the age of 16, after the death of her mother. For a time she was able to live normally, through the years as she grew, married my father and became a mother of two. And then again, her world was torn from under her.

Where do I start? It’s hard to remember my life from before. Everywhere I go, everything I do, everyone I see constantly reminds me of the life I wanted but never got to live. My depression and anxiety affect not only me, but the friends and family around me. I’ve been actively seeking answers since I was 13 and find that now, at 29, the more knowledge and wisdom I gain only confuses me more. I wish every day that I could wave a magic wand and release the pain this has caused me and my family; instead we can only struggle through, day by day.
I thought my life was fairly normal. I grew up in British Columbia, close to my mother’s older sister. My father owned a small painting company which went under when I was 9, prompting our family to move to Ontario. My parents fought a lot, but that was just the way things were. In 1994, when I was 12 years old something changed and we had to move in with my aunt and uncle in BC. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t know what, only that I had to help pack our lives into the car and drive across the country. About two months after we arrived in BC we were able to move into a place of our own and my little sister and I found a suitcase full of women’s clothes that we didn’t recognize. Mom caught us going through them and gave us heck, but the matter was dropped. A month or so later I found a pair of silk boxers hanging from a chair in my parents’ room and something clicked in my head. Could it be? No, my dad couldn’t be wearing women’s clothes. Could he? I somehow got the nerve to ask my mom about it, and she was shocked, but hastened to assure me that I was mistaken, so I didn’t think anything more of it. As they say, ignorance is bliss, and for another year my dear mother’s efforts kept me in that bliss. Unfortunately, it couldn’t last.
A year or so after we moved out of my aunt and uncle’s house my father gathered our whole family into the living room of our small basement suite. I had recently lost my Grampa and remember being scared that someone else in the family had died. Instead, as my mother sat silent, he pulled out his bible and read us the following verse:
John 7:53-8:11


7:53 And every man went unto his own house.
8:1 Jesus went unto the mount of Olives.
8:2 And early in the morning he came again into the temple, and all the people came unto him; and he sat down, and taught them.
8:3 And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman taken in adultery; and when they had set her in the midst,
8:4 They say unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act.
8:5 Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?
8:6 This they said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not.
8:7 So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.
8:8 And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground.
8:9 And they which heard it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst.
8:10 When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee?
8:11 She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.

I guess he was hoping to convince us to keep an open mind before he dropped the bombshell on us. He told us that he had spent his entire life knowing that something about him wasn’t right and feeling as though he truly wanted to be a woman. He began crying as he explained that he had convinced himself that, by marrying a woman, having a family and leading a ‘normal’ life, it would go away and he could be happy living his life as a man. He had always been a hard man, disciplining us with the belt and with hours spent writing lines, yet now he sat before me, weeping and just repeating that he was sorry.
I was so shocked that I couldn’t even wrap my head around what he was saying. I had laughed at these stories when they were on the Jerry Springer Show, and now here he was telling me that I was one of those people. I certainly wasn’t laughing any more. From that point on, my life changed. I couldn’t accept what he had told me and I hid from the world. I would take off on my bike and spend hours crying in secret. The usual trauma of simply being 13 already had me hating my life, and now I found that everything I’d thought I knew was wrong. My universe had crumbled and I didn’t know where to start trying to rebuild it. It really screwed me up, and it was a revelation that I would never fully recover from.