And now it feels like you have forgotten my past and only focus upon your unfounded fears.
And now it seems you’re more afraid of gaining a son than you are loosing your daughter.
And now it seems you refuse to acknowledge that this is not a phase.
And now it seems you disregard my feelings to comfort yourself.
And now it seems you’re blindness is killing me.
And now it seems you refuse to look.

I’m sorry that it isn’t a phase like you had originally thought or so desperately hope now.
I’m sorry that this is hard for you… even though it is harder for me.
I’m sorry I’m your son and not your daughter.
I’m sorry that I embarrass you and Dad.
I’m sorry that I’m not good enough.
I’m sorry that I’m transgender.
I’m sorry that I’m not normal.
I’m sorry…
I’m sorry.