I am wondering about something fairly personal. I would love to be honest about myself with friends/family but I do not know how they will react. I care deeply about my relationships but care more about being honest about myself. I am wondering how other people here have broached the subject of needing castration before having it done.

Thank you

Hyperion

I originally approached my grandmother by telling her I had something big to talk about, and asking her if she wanted to meditate and prepare herself first. She did meditate, for close to an hour, and then we spoke in the living room. I began by asking what she thought about trans people, and soon afterwards I just said I intended to become a eunuch and talked about potentially resorting to self-surgery with no alternative. My grandmother was someone I could trust very deeply, and a stoic person who served as an emergency medical contact for many people I don't even know about. I was able to rely on her to keep things between us, and consult her about even the scariest parts of my ordeal.

The second person to find out about my surgical needs was my dad. He is an impatient and old-fashioned person with a Southern accent, and I was much more coy with him. He knew I was just starting to see a psychologist, and seemed very worried that I didn't want to tell him what it was about. He seemed very distressed that I told my grandmother about something but not him. He sat me down and repeatedly asked if I knew he would always support me. He asked if it was something related to him. He told me how a step-sibling of mine had recently come out as gay and shocked everyone. A heartwarming effort, but all he got out of me at that time was "um, it might be a little bit similar to that sort of thing."

Later, when we were driving to my psychologist together--the appointment where I planned to have my psychologist help explain it to him--he got angry and went on a bit of a tirade in the car. I was rather uncomfortable, and squeezed out the two words "gender dysphoria." After we got to my psychologist's office, my dad spent the first half hour of my appointment looking up "gender dysphoria" in the car using his smartphone. Then I brought him in to meet my psychologist and my dad was rather receptive, displaying a rapid understanding. Afterwards, he was asking me questions like: "What if you just lie to a doctor about a normal problem and tell them you already took a bunch of medicine for it? Would they do the surgery then?" Problem solved, I suppose.

Soon afterwards, I heard from my grandmother that my dad had told my sister about it. My grandmother was worried that my mother, who is bipolar, would react poorly if she later found out she was the only one who didn't know. After sending some texts about how I wasn't able to deal with other people's feelings at that time, I did a 180, pulled myself together, and called my mom right away.

Like my grandmother, I began by asking my mom what she thought about people who were transgender. I was calling her for the first time in years, she knew nothing about my ordeal, and that one sentence was all I gave her. She immediately responded confidently: "Well, some people are just born in the wrong body, and they need to fix that." She then went on a rant about how one of her coworkers got confused when my mom used "they" in a letter she wrote on behalf of a non-binary student. I doubt anyone can sound more affirmative than that. When I mentioned my orchiectomy, she seemed confused and asked if that was to become more feminine. I responded with something vague about how I was never attracted to boys or girls growing up, and she said that made sense.

As for my sister, she was a non-issue. When I attended her college graduation, a good dozen of her peers had legal names like "Lumpy Space Princess." Pronouns were the start of every conversation on campus. My sister mostly just wanted to tell me that I could always take either testosterone or estrogen after my surgery.

And that's how my four closest family members learned about my orchiectomy. They were overwhelmingly supportive. When the hospital quoted an outrageous $11,000 utility fee for a bilateral orchiectomy, even though no one could afford it, my family near and far talked about splitting payments 3 ways and paying the fees off over the next 2 years. But between government insurance and the hospital's charity board, my total medical fees, including all preceding counseling visits, amounted to less than $200. I am quite blessed.

Thanks for your very detailed and personal story. It is great having good support

What a vast difference between the 80s 90s and now. It's hard to believe how 25 to 30 years can change attitudes of those who know us. After my surgery I spent most of my time away from humans so didn't really concern myself with "coming out" in any way. I was who I was and still am. While society was harsh towards anything they considered different society has softened in the Western world. Not so much in the majority of the planet. If we consume our lives never straying from our comfort zones (geographically) we never broaden our horizons. I suspect the same can be said towards this topic. The phrase "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead" comes to mind here. Just be you and to hell with what anybody else thinks. In time they'll come around as society seems to be doing. Honesty with oneself will after all lead to a longer and happier life for oneself.