Dear Dad,
Writing this letter is one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do in my life. I should have written it to you weeks, if not months, ago, but I kept putting it off; I just can't put it off any longer. Please excuse me for writing this letter instead of telling you on the telephone, but once you finish it, I think that you'll understand why I chose to do it this way.
By now, you're probably very concerned and worried what is so terrible that prompted me to write something like this. I want to assure you first of all that Sharon, Sara, and I are in good health, and that none of us has a terminal illness or anything like that. Sharon and I are not getting divorced, and Sara and Tony are doing well, too.
Where to begin? Well, as you're probably aware, all my life, I've been different from other people in one way or another. I was hard to handle as a child, and pretty much of a loner. I know that this gave you and mom quite a bit of concern at times. I recall Mom telling me when I was in my mid 20s that at times she thought that I was gay, because of all the time I spent palling around with Mike Brown, but once she met him, she knew that it couldn't be that. My military career had its ups and downs; I let you know only about the good points and didn't tell you about the bad ones: obviously, though, my having been promoted to Sergeant First Class and then getting appointed as a Warrant Officer shows that the good points outnumbered and were more significant than the bad ones. However, by the time I retired, I should have been one grade higher than I was; I had been passed over for promotion twice. This was one reason that I retired when I did instead of staying in longer. (In retrospect, though, it was for the best that I retired when did; otherwise, I wouldn't have been in the right place at the right time to get into my current profession, and would probably be in a poor financial situation now.)
Well, let me try to cut to the chase and stop beating around the bush. About a year ago, I decided to seek therapy; I was having lots of self doubts about myself and what, if anything, I was accomplishing in this life. Remember when I played hooky in high school and then made a feeble attempt to commit suicide when mom found out? Well, I've had about three incidents of suicidal gestures during the past 30 years, the most recent being about eight years ago, and I was starting to feel the same way again that I felt those three times. In addition, I was having other "feelings" that I needed to resolve. Being the procrastinator that I am, I did not actually start therapy until mid November, although I made an aborted attempt in August; that therapist and I just did not click together, and after two sessions, we both agreed that further sessions would be futile. Anyway, my current therapist and I have confirmed (although I had suspected and believed it before beginning to see her) that I am transsexual. In case you're not familiar with the term, think of Christine Jorgensen and Dr. Renee Richards. We have proceeded with my therapy based upon this diagnosis, and things are getting much better for me as a result.
As things look now, I shall be having a sex change operation (SRS-Sexual Reassignment Surgery) in a few years. There are defined standards of care that have been established by an association of therapists, surgeons, and other medical practitioners to assure that only people who are truly transsexual have this surgery. Among these standards are to have been in therapy for at least two years (which would make November 1996 the earliest I could be eligible for surgery), to have recommendations for surgery from two therapists, one of whom must hold a doctorate (e.g., MD, PhD in psychology, etc.), to have been taking female hormones for at least a year (and to have had at least three months therapy to be recommended for hormones), and to have been in a real-life-test (RLT) for at least one year. RLT involves living full time (24 hours a day, seven days a week) as a woman.
I started hormones in late April, and started RLT a week ago. I've had my drivers license changed to my new name and gender, and have had my employment records, social security account, and bank account changed as well. I'm having my credit cards changed, and when all of that is done, I'll contact the army to have my name changed in their records and get a new retired ID card.
I mentioned that I took on a new name. If I had known what you and mom would have named me had I been born with a girl's body, I would have used that name, but I didn't (and was reluctant to ask you because I didn't want to raise any questions at that time), so I picked one for other reasons. My name is now Michelle Anne Steiner. I chose Michelle because it is a logical change from Michael, and I like the sound of it. I worried a bit about having two Michelles in the family, but since Shelley goes by Shelley, and has a different last name, I decided that it wouldn't cause a problem. I chose Anne for a number of reasons. (First of all, I wanted to have a middle name. Not having one caused me all sorts of minor problems in the army when filling out forms). One of the reasons is that a very close friend of mine has that as her middle name; she is also a transsexual, who had her SRS almost five years ago. The other is because of your Anne; she has been so good to you and for you since mom passed away that I wanted to honor her in some way, and I couldn't think of a better way than adopting her name as my own.
Sharon is taking this wonderfully; I couldn't have asked for better support than what I'm getting from her. She is behind me all the way, and says that regardless of what comes, I'll continue to be her best friend. At this time, we intend to remain together and to remain married (there is an interesting loophole in the law that will allow this; the reasons that the state can nullify a marriage do not include sex changes). We both realize that this may not be possible in the future as I change further, but t we will worry about that if it ever comes to that. Sara is also very supportive.
The biggest downside of this is money. I'm paying $110 a session for therapy, with sessions every two weeks. We have been fighting with our health-insurance company about their covering this, and I think that we've finally got them to pay, but they will pay only half the amount. I'll know for sure in a week or two. I'm also paying $40 an hour for electrolysis to have my beard removed, and am currently having two hours done a week. I also pay $70 once a month for voice lessons. This adds up to more than $600 a month. That's why money is so tight with us.
So, that's the situation. I would like to ask you to take at least a day or two before calling me, so you can have time to think about and digest this information. If you would like to speak with my therapist, please call her. Her name is Dr. Lin Fraser, and her telephone number is (omitted).
This brings us to the question of Jennifer's wedding. If I attend, it would have to be as Michelle, since I am now Michelle all the time. If I came, it would not be fair to Jennifer; the bride is supposed to be the center of attention at a wedding, and if I were there, I'd certainly distract attention away from her, but I'll leave that decision up to her and to Robin. If they have no objection to Michelle Anne going to the wedding, I'll be there.
Dad, please take your time to digest what I have written, and don't be judgmental about it or about me. I definitely want to speak with you about it, but I would rather that you wait for the initial shock to wear off first. There are some books and publications I can recommend to you if you want me to do so. And above all, please remember that I love you, and I always have and always will.
Love, Michelle Anne.