An open letter to Caitlyn Jenner

Hey, Caitlyn.

You’ve had a pretty big year, huh?

I never knew you as an Olympian. To me, you were that awkward guy who hung out with the Kardashians; the fella with the botched plastic-surgery face who had really attractive offspring.

Do I think you’re a hero? Sure, you’re redefining what courage means … and for some reason, it’s scaring people. Was it right that you were named a Glamour “Woman of the Year” even though you weren’t physically a woman that entire year? Whatever.

I think I’m more upset with society for ignoring that award came with “Transgender Champion” attached. Are people really arguing that there was a more visible, revolutionary transwoman in 2015? For every outlet that’s publicly embracing your change, there are people digging for reasons why the details are wrong. They expect you to be a complete woman so quickly. They don’t care that literally every little thing you do is on blast, and how freaking difficult that must be.  And you’re still trying to figure out who you are.

I want to say sorry, but I know you have nothing to be sorry about. To me, you’re Caitlyn because that’s who you really are, and you chose to embrace it. Is it really so hard to look at someone and see them the way they see themselves?

I’m not even sure I like the name Caitlyn. But is that something I should waste my energy on? Hell no.

I can’t stand how people are still so intent on calling you Bruce. Do they think if they do it long enough, you’ll just go back? 99 percent of these people have never met you, so why are they stuck on “HE will always be BRUCE to me”? It’s sick.

To top off your controversies, you’re a Republican, too, who isn’t really into gay marriage. I don’t care much about that either, except it just makes your ideals really, really confusing.

I guess I just don’t know what to think about you, Ms. Jenner. You seem like a lovely person. Your speeches come across as honest and heartfelt. I truly believe you did this for a greater good and got caught in the crosshairs because of your fame. And you’re constantly aware that everything you do is scrutinized.

I watched the first couple episodes of I Am Cait because I wanted to see you more than an Annie Leibovitz portrait. (Also your closet.) When Diane Sawyer explored your new life, I was entranced. You were an obvious top choice for Barbara Walters’ 10 Most Fascinating People last year.

What I know about you is a fierce hybrid of what other people say. Tabloids have made me side-eye you. Your stylish outings have forced me to see you in a different light. Even South Park has made me reconsider how silly I looked for going all PC when I heard people say you were anything less than “stunning and brave.”

But I don’t think I was ever fighting for you personally. You’re the face of a radical, necessary cause, and I didn’t want that cause to become a joke. Do I care about you, or am I just stoked there’s a movement?

So, thank you for being a force in this, both in your personal choices and your reactions to society’s expectations. Clearly you’re doing something right.

After everything, to me, the weirdest part is remembering you’re Kanye’s stepmother-in-law now.