It's been six months, things were good.

Six months of being lulled into a false sense of relationship. Six months of feeling like we might be getting our sweet 17yr old  back. We were communicating, she was keeping me part of her life. I was seeing a different, more responsible, mature side. We were connecting. We were talking, I thought things were OK. 

Six months since the last transbomb.

But then I remember she's not so sweet. She hasn't been sweet since age 4 when I had to sit with her on a sofa and ask her to show me how she felt about her sister, using a doll to help release her feelings in a less aggressive way in real life.  

She's not so little anymore. She hasn't changed her mind, ever. She's always right. Ever since she decided sexuality and identity were the thing that would make her feel better. Ever since she was told its possible to stop becoming a woman and start becoming a man, it's been her goal. 

We rarely talk about it properly but when we do the conversations are just so beyond impossible that I've sort of given up. We spoke for almost an hour. I let her do the talking because i just can't keep up anymore. I don't have the energy to explain why everything she says makes no logical sense and besides she has made it abundantly clear she doesn't care what I say, even if it's true. She doesn't care what I think, even when she's hurtful and she doesn't see we are protecting her so really I think I've come to the conclusion there's no point in saying anything more. 

Last time she dropped the transbomb of testosterone on us, this time it was the passport name change, 2weeks before we're going on probably our last family holiday together. She knew before we booked but waited till 2wks before we leave!! That's not even the part that upsets me more. After her last transbomb, we discussed things and we thought we had talked about it and we had asked her and she'd agreed, she wouldn't drop things on us like this, out of the blue. And to only me, whilst hubby is out.

So this time she insists that we knew, we always knew she was going to change her name, we knew she was doing this, she was always going to change her passport age 17, 2wks before going away. It's our fault for not knowing this was the next step on her affirmation path. Silly fools we are. How could we know if she never talk to us? What's the point anyway, her mind is made. Her mind is full of r/topsurgery and all it's glorifying glory. Her mind has been molded to queer since 2019. What are we her parents that can permeate that level of interest and immersion? What's the point, what teenager listens to their parents?

So, two weeks before we're going on holiday and spending the most time ever together since last summer, we have been handed this situation and we have to just Deal. Cope. Seethe.

I'm in the seething stage. I'm so angry she's put us in this position again. I'm angry that the last 6m have been a lie, again. I'm angry that it's so fucking easy to push an autistic child down the affirmation path enough that they'll believe testosterone and double mastectomy is the panacea she's been searching for since she was 12 and introduced to gender identity ideology. 

My therapist was surprised at my calm demeanour. Tbh I'm in shock, I'm numb and I'm at that realisation that it's over. 

I'm watching it all, and the anguish of knowing there's nothing I can do is excruciatingly unbearable. I feel like I'm moving in a slow-motion train crash. Each carriage is a transbomb, I'm uselessly walking up and down waving frantically at the danger. I'm already dead. I was in the first carriage. I was the driver. I was once their mother.
Now I'm just watching it all impotent in my rage from above. Tragic in it's unfolding path, step after step of self destruction. 


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