Friday, 12 May 2006

Alea jacta est

Friday 11 May 2007

Finally I wrote to my parents to tell them I was going to have the operation. I needed them to know, both of them. It’s too big a step in my life. To let the operation pass in silence is like letting everything which has changed for me over the last months pass in silence. I need them to know who I am, that they know about the important event which the operation is for me.

Besides, I have this strange conviction that if I don’t speak to them BEFORE the operation, it will no longer be possible. I feel that afterwards I won’t talk about it. That would seem a bit like a confession and I have nothing to confess. I don’t want my reconstruction to be a secret that I will reveal to them one day after some years.

And also I’d like to break my habit of keeping them at a distance, I'd like to become a little closer to them.

I discussed this with my man and I decided to address the letter to both of them. I thought all day yesterday about what I was going to write. Nevertheless, when I set about it yesterday evening I had great difficulty in starting it, this letter.

I went round in circles for several hours, I started several drafts but I discarded them one after the other: I had the feeling I was justifying myself, looking for their approval, or even worse, minimising the importance of the operation for me.

So I thought about what I really wanted to say to them, in my letter, that is to say I loved them. And there, it came all by itself and I wrote my letter in one go, without any difficulty.

I am frankly happy with what I have written. In fact I have sent, perhaps for the first time, an adult letter to my parents.

I copied it out twice. I certainly wanted to address my words to both my parents at the same time, but I wanted each to receive a copy.

This morning, before going to work, I posted my letters. Normally they should arrive before 16 May.

At the time I felt happy, liberated. I even thought, “This time I have finished my preparations”.

But since then, I have become afraid of my father’s reaction. It’s ridiculous I know, but I can’t stop myself thinking that he is going to be terribly angry with me. As for my mother, I don’t think she will talk about it. But basically, his reaction matters little, here, this evening.

In spite of my fear, I have no regrets. The letters are posted and the die is cast.

[Original in French]

Next post


  1. A kiss on each cheek, one for each letter \o/

  2. Courage is not having no fear, it's overcoming it. As I've already told you, I find you very courageous. Well done with the letters!

  3. Why do you think your father would be angry with you?

    In any case I find your move very courageous, especially as it seems you really want the good you have done to be seen. I am happy for you :-)


  4. Good for you ;o)

    You are going to get two extra people thinking of you on D day.

    "In May, do as you like"

    Super strong, the butterfly, in fact. A species to admire ;o)


    A lovely adult act, courageous and full of love.

    I'm asking myself thesame question as Mlle Crapaud.

    Bises à toi.

  6. Thank you Franck, Kozlika, mlle Crapaud, Lili et Nounsse :)

    Kozlika, it's true that I am very proud of not allowing myself to have been stopped by fear, of having responded to my need to tell them and having written the letters. Now I feel I'm at peace with myself whatever happens. My needs have been met ...

    Mlle Crapaud and Nounsse, it's that I've sent a letter and not spoken face to face which could set off my father's rage. He could feel it's cowardly of me. And then too, I haven't given them any say in it, I've told them, full stop, and he could take it badly that I haven't exactly asked for either his advice or his permission. That could remind him of his inability to protect me or he could read the letter as a veiled criticism, an accusation or I don't know what else. A thousand possibilities come into my head and all of this type: anger from my father, silence from my mother. I'm dreading a bit the next time we talk on the phone. I think it's going to be difficult, with this letter in the background. And so, I can only wait. I don't see myself phoning them for a superficial conversation, as though nothing had happened, or to ask them "So, have you received my letter? What do you think then? I'm going to have to wait and see what happens...

    Lili, that would please me a lot, that they would think of me on 16 May next, to be honest, if they don't, it doesn't really matter.

    Answering you here, I'm starting to ask myself whether I am fooling myself about my mother's reaction, and that I've thought only about my father's. I'm going to have to think about it ...

  7. Perhaps it's just tied into your circumcision: it was you mother's decision which your father condemned. Perhaps, in spite of everything, that you are "closer" to him, that his opinion means more to you anyway.

  8. Ah yes, that's quite likely Mlle Crapaud. Perhaps that, by asking myself how my father will react, I am in fact asking if he "stayed" against our circumcison or if he ended up agreeing with my mother's opinion over the years ...


Forethoughts, afterthoughts, any thoughts. Tell me.


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