A New Beginning?

We have arrived safely in England--that happy land of magic. And happily, for myself, for the first time since becoming self-aware, I am allowed to explore what that even means.

For a while now, especially whilst living with my family, my wife and I have joked about how my parents are probably relieved that I am neatly locked into a safe, heterosexual marriage. Well, a week or two ago, this was actually confirmed by a friend who overheard my father saying as much to someone at the wedding. I am not entirely sure how to feel about this, really. It was certainly funnier when it was speculated about but not known for sure. More significantly, it means that any designs I have to explore concepts of gender and its expression confirm what are now known fears for my parents, as opposed to merely confirming what we had until now assumed they did not actually fear. I think what I find most dismaying about this is that I want to make them proud of me. And every time I wear a skirt or do something that otherwise challenges others' perceptions of my masculinity, I am aware that I am somehow a disappointment to my parents (whether they know it or not).

And yet, I am also aware of the fact that this is not something I have created for myself: I did not choose to be gender queer, but rather discovered it and saw how it had patterned throughout my life and brought a certain order to my experiences. So it was inevitable that I should face this, and either I could hide it away and deny the wonder of my being or I could accept it and thank the Lord for His good creation.

Neither, I realise, is this the only disappointment to my parents in me: there is also my Catholicism, with which they are still not comfortable (or, at times, outright disgusted, e.g., Eucharist). But I could not avoid the directive of God and His servant, Ratio, any easier than I could continue to deny how this same God had made me. While I could live a Catholic life and let my parents see as much, it puts a strain on our relationship. How much more so with their fears (or possible certainty, although I doubt that) that their son might not be entirely, properly straight?

Now I am in a new place where there is no family; where there is nobody who knows my family; and where I can start anew without fears of it getting back to my family. Perhaps I can now begin to learn to be who I am in a new way without living in fear of hurting others by accepting my very being. And perhaps, just perhaps, when I return to Canada, I will be comfortable and confident in my being through sufficient practice at accepting this person God has made.