My Father Wanted to Be a Woman

Cosmopolitan, December 2001, pp. 122, 124
cosmo_letters@hearst.com

Laurie Cicotello was a teen when she discovered her dad was a transsexual. Here, she describes how she dealt with his dramatic transformation.

As told to Gina Zucker

Until my early teens, I was part of what seemed like a regular suburban family: We had enough money and a nice house in Colorado, and my parents were happily married...or so I thought. Life as I knew it had always felt ordinary, but when I was 14, something happened that brought my illision of normalcy to an abrupt end.

A Shocking Discovery

As an only child, I was definitely Daddy's little girl. I felt more comfortable with my dad than with my mom, and I never found it strange that he had an effeminate side. Both of his ears were pierced and he had longish hair, but that was the style in the 1980s, so my friends and I just thought he was cooler than most fathers.

I was a typical adolescent with raging hormones and a rebellious attitude. Late in the summer of 1985, just before I entered high school, I began stealing money from my parents' room to buy junk food. One day, while rummaging through my dad's drawers looking for cash, I discovered weird porn magazines that depicted women with penises. I didn't understand what they were, and I was so caught up in my own life that I chose not to think about it. But about a month later, I found photographs of my dad wearing women's clothing, as well as his journal, which I couldn't resist reading. While I don't remember everything he wrote, one sentence sticks out in my mind: "I'll commit suicide if Laurie ever finds out the truth." "The truth about what?" I wondered.

I was devastated that my father, to whom I'd always felt so close, had apparently kept a major secret from me. Confused and upset, I confided in my best friend from school - a guy named MacGregor - about what I'd found in my dad's dresser drawer. Knowing I wasn't very close to my mom, MacGregor convinced me to talk to my paternal grandmother, thinking she might be able to shed some light on the situation. About a week later, I went to her house. When I told her what I had seen, she began to cry. She said, "Daniel [my dad] has been dressing in girls' clothes since he was 4." Grandma had always kept it a secret from the family; she told me how he'd played with dolls and worn his sister's hand-me-downs until his father took the dolls away and told him to be a man.

I decided I had to confront my dad. A few days later, he, Grandma, and I went to play miniature golf. As the three of us drove to the course, my grandma said, "Daniel, Laurie knows about what's going on with you." I started to cry in the backseat, and my dad and grandma cried as well. We didn't say much more at that point; we just went and played a crappy game of miniature golf. Eventually, my dad and I talked, and the truth began to surface. He told me that he felt he should be a woman but he was born with the wrong equipment. He said Mom had known about this from early on: She'd walked in on him while he was wearing a dress six months after they were married. She loved him though, so she stayed with him. He'd been transitioning to a more womanly appearance over many years - growing his hair and nails, getting electrolysis and a pair of women's eyeglasses. It was such a slow process that I had never put it together. Some transgendered people just dress differently and leave it at that, while others have sex- change operations. But in any case, they want to present themselves publicly as the sex they feel they really are inside. Suddenly, it all made sense. I remembered how my dad used to go on business trips with two suitcases; now I realized that one was for his male clothes, the other for his female outfits. My dad also went out a lot at night, and while he was getting ready, my mother often took me into my bedroom, saying "I have to talk to you about something" so that I wouldn't see him leave dressed in drag. Keeping the Silence

One of the hardest things for me to process was the deceptive deal my parents had made. Dad explained that my mother had given him a choice years ago - keep his secret under wraps or she'd divorce him. Most important, she threatened to leave him if he ever let me find out he was a transsexual. My mother is conservative and shy - letting the outside world in on this would go against her moral makeup. So, fearful of breaking up my parents' marriage, I didn't talk to my mom about any of this. But my father, on the other hand, was relieved not to have to hide it from me anymore. At this point, he had started taking female hormones. And to help me adjust to his transformation, he decided to send me to his therapist who specialized in transgender issues. My dad also said that he wanted to be called "she" instead of "he" from now on and that his name would be Dainna. "You can call me Aunt Dainna if you'd like," he said. I suppose he thought we could keep this between us without my mom finding out, as unrealistic as that now seems.

I didn't know how to feel, except numb. I went to the therapist, and she told me Dainna was going through "puberty" as she became a woman. This meant she wanted to do teenage things like go out a lot and share my clothes and makeup. I needed to accept this, the shrink told me, adding, "Dainna's emerging puberty is as important, if not more so, than your own." Obviously, this confused me and pissed me off. I now know that in families in which one parent is coming out of the closet or is transgendered, life often revolves around them while the rest of the family members' problems are neglected. As a result, I went into a deep depression and gained 100 pounds. I stopped wearing makeup because I had no intention of sharing it with my father. I felt alone and unattractive, and my self-esteem was too low to do anything about it. I certainly didn't feel like I could turn to my parents for help.

As Dainna's physical transition became more and more obvious, my mom continued to pretend that nothing had changed. Her husband was her closest friend, and I think she just couldn't stomach the idea of leaving him. At first, our neighbors just thought a woman had come to live with us. But inevitably, they realized what was going on. Kids began to make fun of me when I walked home from school. One boy would yell things like "There goes the fat chick with a faggot for a father," and the other kids would laugh. The next couple of years were rough. As my dad gradually went public, wearing female clothes during the day and living life as a woman, I started hooking up with guys who were often physically and emotionally abusive, another by-product of my nonexistent self-esteem. I also had to deal with plenty of mortifying incidents, such as the time our car broke down a block from our house and Dainna had to get out and ask for water for the engine from some neighbors. He was wearing a bright floral-print romper, and I was trying to shove myself down in the backseat so no one would see me. For a teenager, when your parents already embarrass you, this was over the top.

Acceptance At Last

It was a relief when, in August 1990, I left home for a small Catholic college in Hastings, Nebraska. I told no one about my dad, but very soon after I arrived, I realized I was sick of feeling helpless and ashamed. A few months into my freshman year, I made a decision to come out of the closet with the family secret. I began to tell my friends about Dainna, spoke up about her in class, and talked to anyone and everyone about transgender issues. Although at first I was teased by a lot of people, I also found that opening up about my life made people feel comfortable telling me their own secrets and troubles. For the first time in a while, I began to feel I had something to offer. One day when I was walking through the quad, I overheard a guy say to his buddy, "That's the girl whose father is a woman." The other guy just looked at him and said "Yeah? So?" It felt really good to be finally accepted.

After I graduated, I moved to Denver, near my hometown, and tried my hand at journalism and then worked as a clerk for the city government. Ultimately, I began to teach English, and I'm now a high school teacher in Hawaii. My parents remain married to this day. They don't have a sexual relationship, but they continue to be best friends, and however strange it might seem, this arrangement works for them. My mother has had to reconcile herself to the fact that her husband's secret is out, but she'll always be private about it, and that's okay. Because of them, I've learned to accept people's differences, and I'm able to see the shades of gray in any situation. I still say "Mom and Dad" half the time and get Dainna's pronouns screwed up. But I feel closer than ever to both of them. As for me, I'm now 30 and single. For the first time, I feel that I'm ready for a real, intimate connection with a boyfriend. I'm looking forward to having a healthy relationship with someone who really loves me and can accept my unique family.

Laurie Cicotello is online at Psychotee@aol.com, and Dainna Cicotello is online at DAINNA@aol.com.