Last night’s Christmas dinner with the relatives was shockingly normal, and even my fundie nephew — who attends an extremely conservative Christian college, which mandates that students and staff be anti-gay/gay-trans as part of their code of conduct — came up and greeted me with a hug. And for everyone else, my first Christmas as woman — and the first time meeting me as a woman — seemed to be no big deal.
(Course it helped the my Fox News-loving uncle wasn’t there, nor my cousin, LOUD HOWARD, who usually takes over conversation and mansplains the entire evening, as well as kicking off multiple political arguments.)
Now before everyone gets teary-eyed, I’m not particularly close to any of the relatives and only see them (at most) once a year for awkward Christmas dinners.
But it was still nice. Not just trans-wise, but it was one of the more pleasant Christmases with the relatives in recent memory.