Legally Crazy, Lies and Adopting the Truth

Hello My Dear One,

It's been a few weeks since I last wrote to you, and I have struggled greatly with an essay on lying that I've been working on. It is never easy to look at one's own flaws, particularly under a very brightly lit microscope. It's not fun.

As it turns out, I excel at lies of omission. For example, as a youth, I was in the Scouts, which is true. Anyone who meets me would assume that I meant the Boy Scouts. And to keep my life simple, I wouldn't clarify that thought, because in actuality I was in the Girl Scouts well into high school.   

Despite sharing so much about myself to large groups of people, I still withhold some of the inner demons that plague my head and heart. It's convenient not to display my constant battle with the Beast of Mental Illness, the anomalies of my anatomy, my complete and total reliance on insulin, or the thirty years I spent presenting myself as the incorrect [for me] gender.

I don't like telling all of the truths. I don't want to share the parts of myself that could condemn me. I don't want to be judged for being different, especially in so many ways. I want to believe that the outside image I present to the world is real. I don't want the truths to cause me harm. And that one word, me, is the problem.

Sometimes, when we least expect it, truths cause pain in highly unexpected ways. For example, the other day I took one of my children to a medical appointment as his father, which is true. But, just like the scouts, clarification or quantification of that statement can be made. You see, on paper, I am my children's stepfather.

The receptionist at the hospital where the provider's office was housed (hospital dietician) was completing the intake registration which included correcting addresses, phone numbers, and employment for me and my wife. As we finished the process, I was expecting to sign the consent form, but that train came to a screeching halt. The woman spoke those dreadful words "I mean this with no disrespect..." and went on about how she needed to contact my wife since I was technically my child's "stepfather." She then called my wife, got permission, and handed over the paperwork.

Did I mention that said child was standing behind me? And did I mention that we don't really discuss this fact in our family?

But I am his stepfather, and that moniker, that name, is a direct result of my multiple lies, some by omission, others not so much. Because I omitted my male identity during my wife's and my courtship and early marriage, I remained female to the world.  When our first child was born, the birth certificate allowed for a mother and a father. Since I was not the biological parent and not male, I was not included. And, when my sex was reassigned/affirmed my wife of almost 8 years and I legally married, consequently making me my children's stepfather. After that, when people ask if I'm their father, the obvious answer is "Yes," and the omissions begin again.

Now, 11 years later, I never consider myself to be their stepfather. I am their dad, no more, no less. But according to the law I am not. And therein lives the greatest lie of all. It's the lie I've told everyone, including myself, that it doesn't matter that I'm not on their birth certificates.

But it does matter. It matters a lot more than I realized. And it mattered most last week when I had a momentary panic attack as I wondered what my teenager was thinking as he heard his father referred to as his stepfather. It was strangely earth shattering for me, though I'm not sure what it meant to him. We've both chosen to omit what we thought about it to each other. It's a bad family trait.

So, what now? Just a few months ago, the answer would've been nothing at all. But, by admitting that I was sick, that the Beast was clawing at me from the inside again, that I needed a new med, I took the initiative to tell the truth. I didn't wait for someone to ask me how I was doing this time. Instead, I came out of my own shadow, out of my Beast's shadow and shared my need for help.

And that is the plan for the next step of our life as a family. I will ask for legal help, put my pride on hold, and adopt my children. It feels funny when the kids are a tween and a teenager, but maybe this timing is important after all. I want them to know that I have chosen to be their father through and through. And that it wasn't just a formality of updating a document, but a conscious and loving choice.

What I really look like.

And maybe we all need that right now, as they change and grow into young adults, and their mother and I change and grow into being the parents of teenagers. None of us seems to be enjoying it that much, but letting them know that they are so supremely wanted can't hurt any of us.

Thank you for continuing to choose to listen to my truths on this part of the journey.

Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.

-Ari