Dear Mom,

This is probably the hardest letter I have ever written.

First, I love you very much. I love you and I honor you for everything you have done for the family I have now and the family I had when I was young. I’m so very sorry that I made all that so much harder for you. I hope recent years have made up for all the hard times I put you through during my teen years.

That said, the time has come to live my authentic life. To have the things I need to keep my sanity. As such I have determined that it is time to become your daughter Joy Anne Phillip for the rest of my life.

I’ve been on hormones for this since mid August 2010. I legally changed my name on Nov 9, 2011 to Joy Anne Phillip. I have been living full time as a woman since Oct 12, 2011. I gave away all my boy clothes on the 7th of Nov. I have dresses, skirts and blouses in my wardrobe now.

I know when I tried to talk to you about this the first time at 13, you sent me to the psychologist. I felt that your intention was to have him talk me out of it. I never spoke to him about my transsexualism, only about the things going on in school. I was terrified that the only person outside the family who seemed to care about me would revile and hate me forever for my gross deviance. At that time I believed that I was contaminated with some sort of disease and that with time I would grow out of it. That didn’t happen. I came close to being thrown out of the Army because of it.

I tried talking to you about it again when I got married to Mary. You told me flat out that you didn’t want another daughter. You have no idea how much that rejection hurt me. But I lived with it, and to make you proud of me, I lived as Eric until now.

Mary and Rhiannon kept me sane. They understood and didn’t judge, they just loved me for who I am, boy or girl. But now, Rhiannon has grown into a lovely young woman, she is happy and growing, everything a young lady should be.

So, with no more excuses, I finally took the steps to make myself happy.

Holly knows, and has known since we were little. She caught me several times either wearing your or her clothes, and once helped me with my makeup.

I understand if this distresses you. I get it. Mary had to go through a whole mourning period of the “death” of Eric, even though she was gaining “Joy”. I understand that. If I can make it better, I want to. But I’m committed to this course of action and I’m not going to turn back.

My workplace has absolutely no problem with this. They are being exceptionally accommodating to me and are really working hard to make sure I don’t experience any discrimination or have other problems with co-workers. So I’m not losing my job over this. Others I interact with are also fine with this, and I’ve made more friends in the past month than I have had at any one time in my entire life. I’m losing weight, and as a result the diabetes and the high blood pressure are backing off. I actually look nice, if still obviously a boy (due to the loss of hair). But that will pass as I take my hormones.

I know the [Mormon] Church says that I’m demon possessed, and I’m sure that with the combination of my Wiccan and Druid practices as well as Rhiannon being a lesbian, it really looks like I’m damned to hell. And by your beliefs, that’s what will happen. But for my faith that won’t happen. And I will not sacrifice my happiness now for a “reward” after I die. That’s exactly like making a bequest in a parent’s Last Will and Testament dependant on the child’s behavior from birth of the child until the parent dies. That’s blackmail and unfair and unrealistic.

My world has been going this way for the last 39 years. I’ve tried to talk to you about it in the past, to include you as a concerned party. But now I’m not willing to wait anymore.

So, this is me, your daughter. You can relate to me as your daughter, as your child still, or you can cut me out of your life. That choice is entirely up to you.

I’ll understand either way. And no matter what, I forgive you for it. I still love you, and I still want you in my life. Jim won’t ever understand but I don’t think he ever understood me. I suspect he wanted a little copy of himself to parade around so that people would compliment him on his bedroom prowess. He didn’t want me, as myself.

Please let me know one way or the other what you have decided to do. I don’t want to keep hoping if you don’t feel you can accept me as I am.

Love always,
Your daughter,

Joy