Sometimes the Truth Is Necessary

Dear Person

This letter probably should have been done a while ago.

First let’s take some things into consideration. When you came over on Saturday, I hadn’t seen you for a little while.

I thought you may come with a hint of contrition and apology. I had decided not to see you after you stating that you loved me as the boy I was, not as I am.

You see, in the past, I’d seen outbursts like this as a pattern, as part of your general nature, and as part of our already volatile relationship

 

 

But for years also, I’d had people in my ear telling me to give you the benefit of the doubt, because of who you were to me.

But if you remove that variable, as you already know there were points in my life when I thought, why should I?

When I think of all the abuse I suffered as I child at the hands of M, how he used to tell me to toughen up and be a man, how he called me a cissy, how he refused to help me with personal care, called me a big fat vegetable, how he used to tell me I was useless, and to be frank the list is endless.

That doesn’t hurt me anymore. But to be honest you do. It is clear to me that you have never accepted my transition. It is also clear that there are lots of things you don’t accept, and if you think they are wrong then you cover your ears and pretend they don’t exist.

But you know what? They do, I do, and always will. You say I haven’t evolved, that I’m different because of my disability and my gender. Now on one level, even I know these are inescapable facts. My disability and my transgender status does set me apart from others. But it’s the more subtle inflections of your voice which tell me you have a problem with it.

I  know you hate The Edge, this community of people and the supportive friends I have found. But you know, the fact you hate The Edge my dear, makes me all the more sure that in going I am doing the right thing. I need their support, and love more than ever, as well as that of the trans friends I am slowly getting to know better and like more with each passing  day.

While we are at it, I know XYZ’s children go to London. I know. But this child goes to London too. But remember what happened the last time we went out to Southampton? You complained bitterly the whole day, and nothing we could do was right for you.

How the heck would you expect me to be able to survive on a day in London  with you? I have worked hard to be this happy. I am not about to let you bring it crashing down.

You asked me also on Saturday where my respect and loyalty is? To gain my respect and loyalty, people must earn it? How is telling me I am different, and admitting you are slagging me off to my face going to achieve that?

You tell me also, you are too old for this. I tell you this, your views are repulsive however old or young the person is who expresses them.

I gave you the benefit of the doubt on Saturday, but I say this. When I have so much going for me and so much in my life to live for, I do not need to be dragged down by you. I don’t need the stress, nor the wasted tears. I need support and love. Neither of which you seem able to give. Whatever I say, however upset I get, you just keep on like a snowplough through my feelings, trying to knock down my brick wall.

You know, T even said I should ask for my housekeys back. Perhaps I might. Hannah Buchanan is me, always has been me, and always will be. Different yes, alone no. Different yes, sad no. Different yes, a lieno. I am the bright rainbow, the glowing sun and the twinkling jewel, because I am the me I want to be. And you can’t do a thing to stop it. Perhaps this is what pains you the most.

I’ll be here if you ever change. I don’t think you want to so I will take care of myself. It is sad you won’t accept me, but it doesn’t mean my life is over, and with that said, I am going to live it.

Kind regards,

Hannah.

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