Father’s Day approaches.

I no longer have to worry

about the awkwardness

of spending time with my Dad,

but we still have to see yours.

Easter and Mother’s Day

were filled with

ugly political commentary,

transphobic rants,

and racism.

You have told me

I don’t have to see

your family again.

I don’t want to cut off contact yet.

You tell me

you don’t think

they’d act that way

if they knew I was trans.

I feel like we will lose them

once they find out.

Letting go of your family

is not an easy thing.

I have come to care about them

over the past decade.

I have bonded with your father

and we tease each other

like my grandfather and I used to.

You talk about

how he will miss his buddy

when I come out as female.

I don’t talk about how

he is one of the last father figures

I have left.

The family is not gathering this time.

We will have a private lunch with your father.

This somehow makes me more anxious

than the whole group being together.

Perhaps it’s the pressure to play the part,

straight cis male.

More attention on me.

I miss just talking,

just being together,

without having to hear

everyone’s politics

and prejudices.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it,

potentially losing both our families.

I wonder if it’s selfish,

even though you are willing to pay the price.

I don’t know what to do

except to take this

one holiday at a time.