Conversations With C: He Knows :c)

Tonight was another big night.

I came out to my nephew C.

Yup, my world famous nephew C.

How did it go?

Follow me below the fold!


My original plan was to tell C during his winter break home from school. In fact, we had tentative plans to go to dinner on the 22nd, but my semi-annual flu hit with a vengeance that night.

It then lingered for nearly the entire month of January, which meant he was back in school by the time I had recovered (just in time to be knocked senseless in the hit-and-run as my *next* mini-vacation was starting).

He's been on spring break this week, so we made plans to go out to dinner last night (Thursday).

I had told my sister C, his mother, that I planned to tell him. As I wrote a while ago, he knew something was going on with me, even if he couldn't put a finger on it.

She said he would be fine, and I agreed. Still, you never know for sure how someone will react, as I'm sure we can all attest.

After I picked him up, we went to a local restaurant we both liked. My friend M literally lived two blocks from it, so we were there all the time. As a result, the staff knows me. The hostess is a sweetheart, so when I asked if we could have a booth with some privacy, she graciously agreed.

After placing our orders and catching up on things, I told him I had something to tell him.

As I was telling him, he listened intently, staring at me as I spoke. While I don't have a prepared speech, I do have some general points that I try to make, in his case mentioning that my parents (his grandparents) don't know yet.

When I finished, he nodded his head several times with the same expression of concentration.

"OK," he said. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. I can't believe you told me and Mom first.

"Second, I'll do anything I possibly can to help you. Anything. Just let me know."

I was touched, and told him so. He replied that he could tell from an early age that I was struggling with something, but that I was very private and he wanted to be respectful.

"I always knew I could talk to you about stuff I couldn't tell Mom or Uncle F," he said. "You always listened, and you never judged me, or brushed me off, or treated me like a little kid.

He asked me when I was planning to tell my parents.

I told him that I was working on a letter to use for myself to help organize my thoughts. But I have some things I needed to process before I can write the letter, let alone tell them. My therapist agrees, and also feels I need to tell them sooner rather than later.

"You need to do it soon," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"You look different," he said. "A lot different. Even from two weeks ago (when we last saw each other)."

"You're going to have to tell them. Because pretty soon you're not going to be able to fool anyone. Even them!"

We both laughed.

"When you tell them," he said, "I'll be there if you want me to. Just say the word."

I got a bit misty-eyed.

"Thank you, C," I said, "That is really brave of you."

He shrugged.

"You've always backed me up; now it's my turn.

"Telling people must be incredibly scary. And telling Nana and Papa..." His voice trailed off.

"Your mother told me the same thing," I said. "She didn't ask me if I wanted her there; she told me she was coming."

He nodded.

"She said when she was younger and having a hard time, you always tried to cut her a lot of slack. Even when she didn't deserve it.

"I'm not surprised she wants to help. Plus I'll bet she'll be able to explain any medical stuff to Nana and Papa so they'll understand it."

(My sister is a nurse, for those who aren't regular readers.)

The restaurant was getting ready to close, so we asked for the check.

While we waited, he asked me if my sexuality would change as a result of transitioning. I told him I'd vowed to be open to anything when I decided to transition, and that meant anything, including my sexuality.

"I was straight before I started to transition," I told him. "Or at least I was only interested in girls. Whether I was attracted to them or found them attractive (as Jen from Jenesis puts it)... well, I'm still working on that."

"I won't know for sure until I'm full-time," I said. "But I have a pretty good idea of where I'm going to wind up. At least if my dreams are any indication!"

He was grinning. I was probably blushing a bit.

"Dreams usually don't lie about stuff like that," he said. "I guess you need to learn how to dance backwards then, huh?"

I laughed so loudly that other diners looked over at us, amused.

"Well, I've never heard it put that way before," I said. "But yes, that seems to be the way things are moving."

"That's cool," he said. "It makes sense to me. But whatever feels right for you is OK with me."

We paid our bill and headed back to my car.

"By the way... if you decide you're interested in chicks, just let me know," he said. "I can give you lots of tips on how to pick them up. I'm pretty good at it, you know."

With herculean effort, I managed to keep a straight face as I thanked him for the generous offer.

He paused for a moment and looked at me as we reached my car.

"You're happy, aren't you."

It was a statement.

"Yes. Yes, I am," I replied. "For the first time in my life, I'm happy."

"I can tell," he said, smiling. "I'm really glad. You deserve it... Aunt Cass."

I was misty-eyed all over again.

I'm so, so proud of my nephew tonight.

And I feel very lucky to have him in my life.

Even if the evening ended with him "borrowing" money for yet another date with a "hottie."

Some things, fortunately, never change. :c)

***

With St. Patrick's Day almost upon us, the first in a series of tunes from those of us lucky enough to be born Irish. Or Irish-American, in the case of your faithful blogstress.

First up, Hothouse Flowers, whom I was fortunate enough to see multiple times in their 1988-1993 heyday here in the States. Here's a great song from their 1993 album, Songs From the Rain:

And here's a tremendous live version of "Give It Up," from their second album,  1990's Go:

They are an amazing live band!