I think it’s fair to say my parents have found my transition a little tough to deal with since I came out just over a year ago. But last week, we made some giant strides. Hoorah!
My sister said something which struck home a few weeks ago when I was whinging about being dead-named by my family. She pointed out that I wasn’t presenting as female in front of them and that things might get easier when I did.
I’d purposely not presented as female in front of them because, ya know, baby steps and all that. I don’t want to blow their minds any more than I have done already.
But, after my sister said that, I thought: well, what have I got to lose? Let’s just do it and get it over with. So that’s what I did.
My mum, dad and I are all fans of a BBC comedy called Early Doors, which was around in the early noughties and ran for two series. It’s a cult classic and, when I heard the writers were bringing it back – this time on the stage – I snapped up three tickets, buying Mum and Dad theirs for Christmas presents.
I’d been wondering when would be the best time and place to present as female with the Olds, as I call them, and then thought this would be a good opportunity.
So, last Wednesday, I got spruced up, wore my favourite Slimming World Woman of the Year dress, put a bit of slap on and, though I says though I shouldn’t, looked pretty damned fabulous.
I’d given my mum a pretty big clue that I’d be en femme a couple of days earlier when I said on Whatsapp that I’d be dressing up. She said I should brush my hair, I replied with “wig”. No answer.
Undeterred, I got ready. I saw their car pull up outside, and I opened my front door and waved hello to my mum, in the passenger seat. She looked at me, looked at my dad and chuntered something. Great, I thought. This isn’t starting well.
I got in the car, dreading the worst and saying that I could lipread what she’d said (a big, fat lie!) But I needn’t have worried. Everything was fine. They both said I looked really nice (well, ya know!) and we were chatting away as my dad drove all the way up to Manchester (Salford).
By the time we arrived, about two and a half hours later, I was feeling really relaxed and happy. We parked the car, got out and went for a wander round Salford Quays. Everything was fine. There were a few “Andrews” but they were both making an effort to call me Andie, which is a first!
It was a really windy day and I was having a proper Marilyn Monroe moment with my dress, which caused much mirth. Good word, mirth.
My dad asked something like: “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what happens when you need to go to the loo?”
So I told him I didn’t mind at all, and that I’d be going to the ladies’, that I’d done so before many times and that there’d never been an issue. He seemed fine with that.
Eventually, we found the Lowry Theatre and headed inside, where we had a magnificent meal in its restaurant. We sat around a small, round table, and I think it finally began to dawn on my mum and dad that all was well and would continue to be so: this was no biggy.
The restaurant was absolutely packed, but there were no funny stares, no nudges or winks from the amazing waiting staff. I don’t scrub too bad as a woman, and I honestly think most people didn’t even realise I’m trans.
I was feeling really comfortable and happy, and the wine with dinner helped me feel even more so. Before we headed into the theatre, I nipped to the ladies’. All was fine – nobody died. The only slight issue was the queue.
More wine at the interval, and more at the end of an absolutely magnificent show – standing ovation from everyone. I popped to the ladies’ again – this time with my mum.
By now, it just seemed completely normal and she was chatting away to me as we walked in. It dawned on me that this was the first time I’d been in a public loo with my mum since she tried to drag me into the ladies’ in a busy city centre when I was about three.
“I’m a boy!” I protested, so she then had to find the least paedo-looking bloke around and ask him to take me into the gents’. Different times!
We drove home after a great night, although my dad got a tad angry, to say the least, as the good old Highways Agency appeared to have sealed every single motorway exit for miles around. It must have taken about four hours to get home.
Another plus what that they were trying to use she/her pronouns, which I’d not asked for as I wanted them to get my name right first. They were still using he/his as well, but it was nice that they were trying.
So that was that. I hope I showed them that going out with someone trans is really nothing to be worried about. And I honestly believe I did.
Just need my brother-in-law to come round to the idea now and tell my nieces that Uncle Andy is now Auntie Andie, but that might take a bit longer.
Andie xxx