As I said yesterday what I am currently worried about (besides economics) is the reaction of our neighbours on the close knit suburban street we live on and have lived on for 15 years.
Our quiet tree lined street is like going back in time three or four decades. It is its own little community within the bedroom community that serves the "centre of the universe" otherwise known as Toronto.
Everyone on our street is basically the same age with young children and of the same waspish ethnic background. Everyone knows everyone to some degree, the children play together and the adults get together for impromptu barbecues and parties on the front lawns where someones garage becomes the local pub for the evening. Quite idyllic really.
Not much has changed since the suburb was built in the early seventies, just the cars on three street look more modern, well not in my case.
"J" and I have talked a little as how to break the news prior to that day in September where I take that first public step out the front door as April, the day I nuke the planet from space. I or we will speak to the immediate neighbours to the left, right and directly across the road from us. "J" will speak to some of her friends up and down the street.
News travels fast here and I would expect the entire street to know that same day. I do not relish the idea of becoming the local "tranny". I am sure I will experience more than a few panic attacks in those early days. As much as I want that day to come, to begin to live authentically I am almost physically sick with worry over my neighbours reactions. In fact I much less fear coming out at work (already out to my boss) and dealing with clients in what is a predominately male industry.
I do not want "J" to be ostracized by her friends, I don't want other parents on the street forbidding their children from coming over to our house to play with our kids.
I don't expect angry villagers with torches but "J" and I have discussed worse case scenarios, that we have to move or that I will have to leave at least for now to somehow lessen the blow. Out of site, out of mind.
Hugs,
April
From Wikipedia:
Peyton Place is a novel about the soap opera goings on in small New England town published in 1956. Peyton Place became a movie in 1957 and an equally famous primetime drama series,which aired on ABC in half-hour episodes from September 15, 1964 to June 2, 1969. The term "Peyton Place" became a generic label for any community whose inhabitants have sordid secrets.
I would hope that you are on friendly terms with your neighbors by now. I'll bet they all have some idea that there has been something different about you for a long time now, so, they all know you as a very kind and decent young lady...er...you know what I mean. It just might turn out to not be such a big revelation after all. Is September there to cold to throw a barbecue? Maybe you could come out to them that way...all at once (if you have to freak out big time, get it over with all at once) or give someone in the neighborhood a sneak peek... that will get the word out there. It will go splendidly, you'll see. I'm praying very hard for you and your family.
ReplyDeleteI remember Peyton Place when it first aired. It was pretty steamy for TV back then. It was quite popular.
Many Blessings, Hugs, and Prayers.
My wife told her close friends a little while back that I dressed as a female and then more recently that I was transitioning. I've seen one of her friends since and she didn't treat me any different.
ReplyDeleteI've just spent the entire weekend away with a lot of people from church. A number of them know of my plans, everybody treated me no differently to before. Two people spoke to me about it over the entire weekend. One to tell me that she now knew because my wife had told her and the other because she was concerned. She was persistent and wouldn't believe me when I told her that I was fine. Her response "Ok, your fine. Now tell me how your really feeling." I've such fabulously, intuitive female friends.
It will help that you are presentable, they'll see a normal-looking woman instead of the pantomime dame of their imagination.
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