Letter to Dad From Son

The following letter is written by a son of a post-operative male-to-female transsexual.

Fathers, please take these words to heart ... for they sum up the feelings of most sons of transgender fathers, who by their own hand and utter disregard for their own son’s feelings and resulting damaged self-view, have elected to abandon their own seed for the sake of a self-consuming sensual appetite.

Dear Dad,

I wish there would have been somebody who could have helped you. You always seemed to be in a trap and unable to get out. It was like you didn’t even exist. I felt sorry for you and at the same time, as your son, I was needy of just a plain dad.

Do you remember how you never sat at the table with me at breakfast and had a conversation? What you would say was, “make sure you do the dishes when your done because you're Mother’s working!”

You never asked “how you are doing, son?” Or, “What time is your baseball game?” I don’t ever recall your saying, “Do you want to hang out for awhile?” Or, “Do you need help with your homework?”

Dad, you were so involved in your own life and what you desired in your fantasy world, you forgot all about me. You could not seem to ever move past your own selfishness. It was always about you and what you needed!

Regrettably, I went looking in the wrong places for what I missed at home. Did you know I was at drug parties becoming addicted to heroin and angel dust while you were only interested in indulging yourself? I didn’t think so. You don’t even know who I am. You believed in the lies that you told yourself and the lies that other’s would tell you. I wish you would have known how much I just wanted you to come to my baseball games and hang out.

I only have one thing left to say. I wish there had been someone to help you more than myself. I wish you would have known the taste of hope and the ability to honestly confess your sin and selfishness in order to effectively deal with your gender confusion. That could have given you hope for one day coming out of your terrible struggle. I know there was help for you back then, but you thought your plan was best. I know the taste of victory from addiction and the self-imposed nightmare, by coming out of my own personal experience of drug addiction. I only wish you would have been there for me rooting me on, encouraging me, telling me of your confidence in me and love for me. But, you only loved yourself.

Your Son,
Cliff