A Straight Woman’s Transgender Story……

The silhouette is not an accident. The names and faces have been changed but the story is true, and ongoing. "Fanny" will continue to share the story of her life caring for her transgendered mother-in-law and how the lives of her family have changed. Equally important, she will tell as much as possible about how the life of "Ann" has been affected. What we all have a chance to learn is something about what real life is like for at least one transgendered individual.
by "Fanny Arnstein"

My sister and I have always joked that the other would have to care for the parents, when the time came for elder-care. As I am the black sheep and not exactly viewed by them as favored by any stretch of the imagination, it has always been clear that she would assume that responsibility.

The topic of my husband’s family, however, is vastly different, and because we are the caregivers and nurturers of his side of the family, the responsibility for at least one of his parents falls to us.

When I met my husband a number of years ago (too many to be exact), he was eager to introduce me to “Mom’s side” of the family. I met them all. Siblings, aunts and uncles, even his beloved Grammy. He was very tight-lipped about "Dad’s side."

I wanted to be sure in the early days of our courtship that we were aligned on the values and principles of life, and accordingly, I put him to a few tests. Among the first was the acceptance test. Tolerance was a deciding factor, so being from San Francisco and thrilled by the opportunity, I took him to a transgender bar. Asia SF was well reputed for gorgeous transgender starlets and amazing food. Not realizing, of course, that I was exposing him to the world I found so normal and fun, he had a heck of a time wrapping his head around the idea that the headliner, “Jasmine,” was a transgender, as she cooed to him to the tune of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” in her provocative and skimpy wedding dress and promised abundant and firm cleavage that, quite honestly, gave me a run for my money. Later that evening, while we talked of the fun we had had, he blurted out, “My father is transgender.” I remember smacking him in the arm hard, telling him that it wasn’t funny to make a joke, and then I watched all the color drain from his face, and he cast his eyes downward in what I perceived at the time as shame. Barely audibly, he whispered, “No joke.”

I am a very take-charge, grab-the-bull-by-the-horns kind of person, and with enthusiasm and relief, I told him that it was nothing to be ashamed of nor to hide. It was extraordinary and amazing. He then told me the story of the demise of the relationship between his parents, as his mother had shared it. I came to understand that her imparting of this knowledge to my husband had taken place at a crucial time of self-discovery in a boy's life, and that he had mixed emotions about it all. I can imagine that the discovery at 16 or 17, after a lifetime of not knowing his father beyond the occasional Christmas card and birthday check, left him scared and confused and uncertain and doubting everything he knew about himself and his developing sexuality. He was not a popular, healthy, strapping boy; rather, he was a tight-end, hefty, greasy-haired, poor kid from the trailer park, who rode a skateboard all over town and lived his life partying on the beach and barely passing high school.

Obviously, by the time we met, he had grown out of that image, was now the catch of the town and accomplished, but still, clearly battling with the identity issues surrounding his father. We rarely brought up the topic again, and when we did, the discussion was fleeting.

When we began to plan our wedding, I wrote a personal letter to his “dad,” expounding on my personality, tolerance, and absolute acceptance, and I made clear that “he” was welcome in our lives at any time. I didn’t share this with my husband-to-be, writing the letter instead in confidence and quiet, as we never spoke much of “Dad.” A few days later, we got a phone call from “Dad,” who told my future husband about the letter and the relief "he" had felt upon receiving it.

As trust grew between us, so, too, did the ability to share and communicate. I encouraged the relationship. I recall conversations and references in which we tripped over the use of “he” or “she.” We somehow managed to find assurances in who my husband grew to perceive himself to be, as he came to terms with the understanding of what transgender meant, and we worked on building a relationship through phone calls and from a distance with the person who had been his dad. As time passed, my husband reconciled to the gender identity of his father as female, and with careful articulation and assurances, today -- many years later -- “Dad” is now “my other mom” or “she” or just plain “Ann.”

Ann made her transformation in the years before modern medicine recognized the possibility. Funded entirely by Stanford Hospital in the late 1970s and cared for in the children’s wing to assure privacy and avoid media sensationalism, this remarkable man, after a life of inauthenticity, joining the Navy as a man, marrying his high school sweetheart, seeding three children, and ultimately discovering he could no longer live this lie, saw fit to allow science to use him to pioneer the way for medical alterations that are all but customary on many fronts today, almost 40 years later. Understanding what this meant, including the lifetime of changes and physical pain beyond imagining in order to live life in the vehicle by which her spirit lived, is all but awe-inspiring to me. For this reason, she has my absolute admiration and respect.

There are, however, two sides to this tale. Somewhere left in the wake of this remarkable personal journey is the life of the fundamentalist-Christian ex-wife who never imagined this was possible, and who saw the hopes and dreams of herself as a young girl fade to betrayal, and three small children who were moved across the country and cut off from the paternal relationship altogether in hopes of protecting them from the anomaly of the “beast” within their father.

Thirty-plus years later, Ann is now 72, and although many deal with the needs of aging parents, our aging parent in need is much different than the norm. Being a “lab rat” for modern medicine to pave the way for the future left in its wake medical obstacles and an entirely new understanding of the human condition in aging. As her health has been failing in these recent 10 years, we had to make some considerable decisions in our lives to see her through her final chapter with dignity and respect. Our decisions translated into an enormous move, great personal sacrifices, integrating our children into the dynamics, and making a 180-degree turn of everything we had dreamed of and worked for.

This column in the months ahead will shed light on our unique experience with an aging parent, as it began in earnest just 10 short weeks ago. I will share with you personal experiences, frustration, and humor as I venture into this incredible chapter of my life as primary caregiver to my “other mother-in-law.” I'll write about the red tape, government and medical bureaucracy, family dynamics that ensue from the other side of the family, decisions we grapple with, and choices we are forced to make in order to give the fundamental gifts God and Universe call upon us to give in Family: the gifts of love, support, acceptance, tolerance.

God has an exceptional sense of humor, as he educates me on my own life journey. My own parents who dislike me, the daughter who challenges me, the gay son, and the transgender mother-in-law.

Hold on, this is going to be one hell of a ride…….

"Fanny Arnstein" is not my real name, but I don't think that should matter. Ann's story, my story, my family's story are all important to share. I think it is, anyway -- but the family and Ann need to be protected. We don't all live in a kind world. Communicate with me anyway. If you have resources to share, send those, too. Just log in and leave a comment. I will continue to write about our journey over the next few Issues of 10,000 Couples in the section titled "Family Matters."