When I came out as transgender, my parents were quick to disavow my existence.  My mother wished that she had “aborted the freak that her womb produced” and my father told me in no uncertain terms that I was no longer welcome around their parts.  Yes, they have mellowed over the years and we do have a speaking relationship at this point, but I wonder what would happen if they found out that I am psychopathic.  Would we be repeating such an exchange again?  Would they once again be wishing for retroactive abortion?

It has been almost two years since I was confirmed psychopathic by my therapist’s use of the PCL-R.  In that time, I have made great self-discovery and efforts to ensure my freedom and status within society.  Riding on the proverbial wings of valkyries, I have taken great lengths to ensure that my antisocial ways of the past remain (mostly) in the past.   The alternative is to become more of a pariah than I already am.  At the same time, I am vocal about the challenges I face in terms of my own self-restraint as well as the stigma and misinformation that I encounter on a daily basis due to being vocal about my condition.  I would like to think that those around me can separate the past from the present and my present from my future, but I know that such are not the proclivities of man.  And so I wonder what will happen when my family invariably learns the secret to our antisocial lineage.

Such a revelation will come one day, especially if the book becomes properly published and I transition into a greater role regarding the discourse on this subject.  Until then, I suppose I will continue to live two lives.  I will portray the character that those around me wish to see while honoring myself through other channels.  I do know that the want to separate such personas is dwindling, however.  A tumblr follower recently asked me how I determined whom around me would know of my psychopathic status.  The answer was simple: exhaustion dictated that I “go for it” and lose the friends that could not handle it while shedding skin for those that could.  I could have not been happier with such a decision as it reduced the weight of the burden of living two lives, even if only slightly.

I hope that one day I can shed my skin in full; given my current trajectory, I am optimistic that I will.  Those of my family that do not know will then know and they will undoubtedly call for my head, just as many others have over the years.  Ultimately, this is of no consequence or concern to me.  They are merely a microcosm of the population I deal with on a daily basis: unwilling to overlook the past for the present and too short-sighted to see the future from the present.  My “sins” only echo into the future so much as others require it.