Growing with Dad

When I was young and laying in my bunkbed with my sister my dad would always tell us a story. She would ask for three things, like a bear, a table in Australia. Then she would weave a tapestry of a story around these three things. We loved it. 

Every once in a while she would tell us that we loved her now but soon we would grow up and think she was no fun anymore and we would be teenagers. I remember swearing I would not be a teenager and would always love her. 

Of course I did become a teenager, but I didn’t stop loving her. In fact I was unique at school because I liked my parents. I even came to them on relationship advice and any growing up weirdness.

I still go to my parents for advice. Once Andrew and I talk through something a lot of times we go to my parents to get their intake.

Recently Andrew & I went to Seattle for PodCon and there they had a scavenger hunt. The idea is to go around and do things to earn stickers which gets you into drawings. One thing was to record what you are most proud of. I said my dad, how proud I am that she has come out and that she is actively helping the LGBTQIA community. I also told my idols the Smirl sisters (who run the podcast Still Buffering, check it out) and they were very impressed. 

More than being a very impressive person that I am proud of, my dad is closer to my best friend than a dad. She is my go to for many problems. Being bi-polar has been a hard thing for my family, especially in the early years. My dad was one of the only ones (and the only one for a while) that could talk me down off the edge. 

She always says she will stop everything to help me. Drive me to the hospital, go to therapy with me or simply getting our nails done. She says I am the most important thing always. I even have a special ring tone so she doesn’t ignore me. 

In short she is my support system, my role model and my friend. So to my past Dad, yes I will grow up but no I will never stop loving you. 

Congratulations Mom and Dad

Three, two, one…

I count down my dad and she begins her speech in the back of the car. Mom and I listen to her, analyzing every turn of phase and every hesitation. She stops and we change of few things. She’s not nervous she just wants it to be the best it can be. We’re on our way to the Black Tie Dinner, a gala for LGBT in Dallas. 

I’ve done my parents makeup and when we get there I touch it up. We’ve shopped for gowns and got mom into a shoe store (no easy feat). We’ve been preparing for week. Andrew even got a tux.

We sit down at the dinner close to the stage. Soon someone comes and takes dad away and my mom gets so nervous. She’s on the edge of her seat and then they start the video. Dad is up in full color on eight giant screens. Then she walks on to a huge standing ovation. I can tell its the roar of the crowd that stagers her back and finally she just has to start her speech despite the noise. 

The best part of all this, the well deserved love, the event, the charities that get over a million dollars in funds. The best part is my mom holding onto my dad when she comes back to her seat. She holds her arm and snuggles in close, smiling ear to ear.

As a daughter it all breaks down to that. My mom is proud of my dad and is willing to go through all these hoops just to support her. She follows her around after the dinner and says over and over again how proud she is of Jess to all the people coming up to them. They both hold their shoes and talk to the lines of people wanting to congratulate dad.

My mom is the sweetest most loving wife and since dad has been honored I want to honor mom. The supporter of the century. 

Big mistake. Huge!

One of my favorite things to do is to shop with my dad. We have similar tastes and sometimes shop for the same events. 

One of the most strange things about shopping with my dad is that no ‘Pretty Woman’ shaming has acured. It isn’t that I really want people to be rude to us, I just think it would be cool to have the moment when we can come back in all our gorgeous glory and say were not shopping here. Now my dad is out full time we could have come back to someone now and say Big Mistake. Big. Huge!

However before my dad made headlines we shopped for dresses and shoes and whatever we wanted because people are just not assholes. I am sure some are, but for the most part people treat my dad with respect. We walk into the malls and women come over and start us a dressing room. They fetch us a new size. They recommend a different color.  

Not only that but when we go shopping we get the first class treatment. People love dad. They talk to her more, bend over backwards and are happy if she is happy and always always remember us. 

A lot of that has to do with the fact that she is so nice. She is so open about being trans if people are shy, she will make a little joke about it and suddenly they are no longer shy. She is appreciative and generally has the look of a little girl who gets to play in a toy shop. The sensation of being a woman now has not worn off to a normal occurrence. On the contrary she will suddenly stop and ask me “Isn’t this cool?”. When you feel like that everyone feels it too. She radiates contentment with life and clearly loves the perks of being a woman. How can you not love that?

Driving Ms. Jess

My family loves travel. Personally I have become the tag-along when anyone has a trip. I want to go somewhere, anywhere. Now that dad has speaking engagements and Panel discussions I have more excuses to pack a bag and go. 

My favorite was the trip to Washington D.C.; we went to meet congress members and to support other transgender advocates in an organized attempt to let our elected officials see us and really get to know us as people and not as an idea. 

We flew there and as I may have mentioned we always get there early. When we landed we take an Uber to an apartment we rented. Dad’s documentary crew, which consisted of Maisie was their too. She is following us around in order to work on her documentary on Dad and her fight for transgender rights.

We had an early dinner appointment to get ready for so dad and I had to fight over a mirror. I am a self proclaimed makeup junkie and had brought a huge case of the amazing stuff. Getting ready with Jess is one of my most favorite changes about her transformation. Before she would stand by the door as I threw makeup into the air and walked under it, praying that it looked ok. Now we can spend an hour asking each other about colors and technique. Similarly when we stop for coffee, and we always do, we both have to retouch are lipstick. 

It’s small but it makes me feel more connected to her. When we went around to different officials offices she would stop and have me fix her hair and her makeup. Honestly it made me feel more needed.

My dad is very self sufficient and doesn’t usually need help with anything. In fact she plays a sort of therapy role for me and my life. But on trips we work together and need the same things so much so that I feel we need each other more. 

Recently we went to Lubbock for a screening of TransPose (go see it) and dad sat on the Panel. They asked her how supportive her family was and she pointed to me in the audience, I was so proud. 

Traveling with dad is like traveling with a best friend. We both get excited to go swimming in hotels and like the same podcasts in the car. We have the same goals and the same friends in the trans world. Although she has always been a wonderful dad, our friendship has changed through the driving and flying and staying in hotels.

Suddenly its my friend who gets me and a friend I am honored to have.

Traveling buddies hitting the road.

Things you might not know about Jess

1. She speaks some German, enough to get by in Germany.  Her grandmother spoke fluent German. 

2. She can’t spell worth a flip

3. Traveling with her is like being on 'The Amazing Race', because of this we are always early, for everything.

4. She doesn’t wear foundation, just sunscreen and powder. She has good skin.

5. She will always talk to a stranger and will have long conversations with people in stores and restaurants.

6. She won’t leave the house without red lipstick and red nails.

7. She can’t go very long without calling my mom and telling her everything that has happened to her so far that day.

8. She doesn’t know what ‘on fleek’ means.

9. She is optimistic to a fault.

10. She gets so overwhelmed by any support, especially about Jess, that she can’t help but cry.

11. She can’t say no to fans, even if it is an inconvenience.

12. She loves swimming pools and hot tubs like a child does. 

13. TV is very important to her and it is important that everyone knows about her shows.

14. Recently learned what slay means. 

15. She has at least seven Bikes. She’s in love with them. 

She's My Dad.

“I love your mom!” 

For a minute I’m confused because my mom isn’t here. Then I realize they are talking about my dad. My lovely female dad. Immediately I feel a weird guilt. I don’t want to correct them but at the same time she is not my mom, she is my dad. Still, it’s almost politically incorrect to call her Dad.

My dad is my dad; she is a great dad. She gave the male part of my birth process (not to get too graphic). That is what the word dad means. Its not gender, just a biological fact. 

In conversation I also introduce my dad as “She is my dad”, or I talk about her as “My dad does (fill in the blank), I’m proud of her”. People react but honestly at this point I barely notice, its just a fact of my life.

I’m not going to lie, saying “my dad” is a she does make me super happy. I love bringing a new perspective into peoples lives. Its like giving someone a present - the present of knowing someone close to them is a transgender person. That has some power in it. I believe knowing different types of people makes them more real and makes hate harder. 

On a bigger scale, keeping gender apart from sex is what Transgender people are trying to get across. Gender is a spectrum and my dad’s is female. A female who loves a female, my mom. a female that fathered two daughters. I think by calling my dad Dad I keep it real.

More than that I force people to at least have that moment of disconnect. It’s like the riddle:

A father and his son are in a car accident. The father dies instantly, and the son is taken to the nearest hospital. The doctor comes in and exclaims "I can't operate on this boy.”

"Why not?" the nurse asks.

The Doctor responds, ”Because he's my son.”

How is this possible?

The answer: The doctor is the child’s mom. That riddle works less and less every day, because woman are more commonly doctors. 

I hope my saying my dad is female won’t be a riddle someday soon. 

Meeting Jess

I am sitting on a puffy chair in a small but charming house we had rented for a week. My back is facing the window and I am slowly but surely picking all the skin around my fingers off. I look up once in a while and see my dad sitting across from me, sitting straight up, relaxed in a black t-shirt and shorts, his standard outfit. He is slim and fair with glass blue eyes and laugh lines around his eyes. 

Suddenly he says to me “Listen, you have shared something that was really hard for you this week.” We were here because I had just finally told them I was OCD. Extremely OCD my doctor had told us. “So, I only think it’s fair that I share something with you.” He looks at me waiting for my response. 

Now if you knew my dad you would understand my surprise. He is a perfect specimen of a human being. He can do anything. I admit I have always held him has a king of super hero in my mind. What could he possibly share that would be like having OCD?

“Is that ok?”

“Sure” I manage.

He goes to his room and closes the door.

Now when you suffer from anxiety as bad as I do, time is difficult to gauge. I can pass hours in the span of a minute. However, there was a clock.  One hour later the door opens.

Out walks my dad, wearing a long wig, smoky eyeshadow, red lipstick, a black dress and black heels. Walking to the center of the room he looks at me with the shyest look he has ever given me.

“Oh” I say, “That makes sense.” She smiles, and just like that, my dad is a woman.

I moved past that realization quickly I now realize. Faster than anyone else I know anyway. When she sat down in that chair, straight and relaxed, like a man. I said no, we have to work on this. I set out to make it my mission that she would “pass”. Although I didn’t know the term then.

We worked on sitting, makeup, where the wig should hit the forehead. Even what style suited her.

The one thing we never had to work on was our relationship. I’ve always been close to my dad, we understand each other. And yes, I still call her dad because I see it biologically not gendered. I didn’t have to ask if she was still into my mom, of course she was. I didn’t have to ask if she wanted this full time, although I did ask so I could hear it from her. 

She is so happy like this, happier than she was and she was very happy as a man. 

So, life goes on. I still have to go to doctors who pull long faces and dad still stands by me, helping me through. Only now she is much more fashionable, and more likely to give that little satisfied smile she has when I know she's thinking about being Jess.