Hey everyone,

I had lunch at with a [french fry-stealing] friend this past Wednesday, and she asked me a question that I thought was worth some elaboration here. She asked if I had any regrets about transition. After a little thought, I said yes. I wish I could have told certain people goodbye. There are others, but two of those people would have been Granny P. and Bud. They lived up the street from me growing up and would babysit my sister and me. Bud introduced me to the second–Georgia was my first–love of my life, golf. We would hit golf balls all over their yard. Bud would even play dolls with me. He would be Barbie, and I would be Ken… naturally lol. Granny P and Bud treated us like we were their own grandchildren. In fact, Granny P would tell my mom that the only time she and Bud would fight was when she told my mom we misbehaved.

The last time I saw them was at Christmas of my 1L year. Even then I knew it would likely be the last time I saw them because I thought it would be too hard to maintain the relationship after I started testosterone. I don’t recall if they knew I changed my name to Harris. For some reason I think they did, but they certainly didn’t know anything else about my transition. Granny P passed away at the beginning of finals during my 2L year. Finals were a good excuse not to go to the funeral, but I really haven’t had much of an excuse not to go see Bud since then. I just don’t want to get hurt again by him, or the other adopted family members in my life growing up that I’ve put off seeing.

My friend’s follow up question was whether one of those people was my dad. I said no. The last time I talked to him was middle of March, 2016. I didn’t want to talk to him and only did after he basically coerced me into it. We did briefly talk about my transition. Apparently he found out through Facebook, not that we were friends. I remember thinking while I was on the phone with him that my voice would soon start changing. I also remember him being not quite accepting of my transition, but not necessarily wanting it to be the reason we don’t have a relationship. But he was too late. In my mind I told him goodbye a long time before.

Removing him from my life has been an act of self preservation. I don’t hate him anymore. I’m very rarely angry about all of the terrible things he did to me when I was a child. Honestly, I don’t think about him very much at all. When I do I get a little sad. I’m sad about the childhood that he took from me. I’m sad that he won’t get the help he needs. I’m sad that my relationship with him will probably affect my relationship with my own little family one day. However, I think I’m doing what’s best for me. I don’t regret that.

All the best,


P.S. Wishing a special Father’s Day to queer dads and dads supportive of their queer kids.



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