Think I’ll continue on the family theme this time. It’s the one topic that barely leaves my thoughts. My family problems, like most families, essentially boil down to secrets and lies. Whether they were meant to be secrets or lies is a moot point. A breakdown in communication meant my news went off like a cluster bomb. Casualties in every direction. Now I can’t help but wonder if it would have went easier if I’d just been more honest earlier. I deliberately hid a huge part of me from my own family. Which caused them particular anguish that they hadn’t noticed more about me. My friends at least had some inkling that my gender was more fluid than theirs. I’d like to believe I was protecting them but I’d have to admit I was likely protecting me more. I was the oldest of 3 sons and knew what I stood to lose. But then my early choices meant I did lose exactly what I feared. But it was mostly through understandable shock at devastating news. I don’t think there were any villains in the piece. And it all came about because of secrets. Even now I keep my own secrets. Really terribly stupid secrets as well. Let’s face it, I will never top the massive herd of elephants in the room revelation that started this off. But the things I keep to myself are mostly about perception. Other people’s. And I wonder why I even care. Secrets ruin families and friendships. And they are totally pointless as they always out eventually. If I was ever doing this from scratch, after borrowing a De Lorean, I’d just make it abundantly clear to my family who I was. That way, there would be no rug to be pulled from under them. But that’s not an option, just wishful thinking. Should have, could have, would have gets us nowhere. When we do speak again, there is nothing that will be off limits to my brothers. Because, look where that got us. I love hindsight. It’s always 20/20.