Trying To Love My Trans Kid
As a very devoted mother, this sentence sounds strange. How could I not love my trans kid?
Let me back up.
I was married seven years before I had my first child — a beautiful baby girl we lovingly called “Mia” named after a great-grandmother and I bestowed her with my name as her middle name. This baby was precious. I don’t get pregnant easily. I have polycystic ovaries and amenorrhea (scarce periods). I had years of infertility treatment and years of soul ache. My little miracle came at the perfect time, and it wasn’t until that very moment that I understood joy.
Gender is an important part of the pregnancy process. I wanted a boy, because I had older brothers and couldn’t understand a world where a girl would be first. But when I found out I was having a girl I cried, hard. Not of sadness but of wonder. The thought mesmerized me. There were so many traditions I could pass down. So many things I would love to teach her. She might even wear my wedding dress.
My “Mia” was a unique, artistic, refreshing, silly person who never conformed to the ideas of femininity, much like I hadn’t, being a bit of a tomboy. I had made a little mini me. We had much in common, both loving theater and music and writing. I regarded my “Mia” as my best friend. And there is no better feeling than having your best friend.
So, when I received a letter placed on my bed last summer introducing me to “Arthur” I was shocked. When did this develop? I thought my child told me everything. Why didn’t my kid tell me this?
Let’s answer the shock. Why was I shocked and not cool with this like maybe other parents were? Several reasons, but the first one was loss.
LOSS
I felt like I didn’t know “Arthur,” I didn’t know this person that lived in my house. My “Mia” was gone, just like that. Erased, yet not erased.
Was she truly gone? Wasn’t this the same child that I always loved and helped grow into a smart, capable person? It didn’t feel like it. It felt like the brilliant girl I raised had run away from home and I would never see her again.
All of the sudden the daily automatic yelling of a name had to change. Every day I would start off with a song for my Mia Moo which I could no longer sing. The family story of how the nickname of “Mia” came was now irrelevant. All of the family pictures in the house made me ache. The baby photos on the piano I had to put away. The mugs with “Mia” scribed on it. The magnets and keychains, backpack and lunch boxes. These were daily reminders of a person that I could no longer talk about.
What happens when facing this kind of loss is this new, strange, transformative acceptance to the person they are trying to find and become. It’s important for me to have a growing heart, one that is open to understanding and compassion. But it is not easy. Not. At. All.
PRONOUNS AND DEAD NAMES
Trans culture is something that I can’t keep up with, and I think that a lot of parents struggle with it too. Their world is all about communication and speed. Within this trans culture, there are a lot of fast-moving acceptability that as adults and parents we just can’t keep up with. Parents are not included in the circle of trans community. We usually need to form our own circle with other parents who are scratching their heads. Because, frankly, it is not of our generation.
Dead Name sensitivities feel unforgivable. When you call someone by their “dead name” they are so quick to correct or get offended. Older generations particularly have a hard time with this. My parents, who have always adored my child, now do not know how to be around them, fearing always saying the wrong thing or calling them the wrong thing.
The changing and accepting of pronouns is exhausting on both sides. Having to rewire years of gender association from your vocabulary is difficult. And sometimes the brain does not want to cooperate. And there seems to be no room for forgiveness here. If you slip you are immediately corrected.
And it hurts.
I want to respect my child and try my best to use the names and pronouns they prefer, but it stabs me just as it stabs them. There needs to be forgiveness on both sides, but there is not. It’s not out of ignorance that the wrong pronouns or dead names are used, but a rewiring of neuro pathways. It is mental and physical, and the older someone gets, the harder it is to rewire.
My parents are great people and are trying their best to be respectful and understand, but there is a lot of slipping with names and pronouns. It hurts that people quickly judge them for not accepting this, which is not true, it’s just harder for them to connect and understand.
MISGENDER
Arthur is such a masculine name. As I’ve learned through trans culture that some trans males pick a masculine name as to not be misgendered. It’s security. I knew this would be something my kid would have to deal with daily. I couldn’t talk them into a nick name from their given name, something like “Lee” or “Milo”. So, my fear of them having to answer this question and this choice would come up at every interview, every application, everything.
Being misgendered will unfortunately happen regardless. Picking a nickname like “Lee” won’t change the problem, it will just leave the pronoun up to the other person. Having a masculine name gives strange looks and more questions. I don’t know which is better.
FEAR
This is where the fear comes in. My kid doesn’t feel safe in their own skin and that’s a huge problem.
As a parent, I fear for my child every day. I want to make sure they are being accepted and that they aren’t being bullied. There is a mental check every single day. In the morning, when I wake them up. After school, when they come home.
Our home needs to be a safe place.
I fear for how my kid will do after graduation, when getting a job or going to college, or even trying to build a family of their own. There are so many worries and unknowns. I have always worried about my children and their future, that’s a normal worry. But now it is elevated, heightened by anxiety of the unknown.
How my husband and I are approaching this is to always provide a safe place and arms that will hold them when needed. It’s important for me to be open and pliable to the changes that come.
WHAT MATTERS
My cousin has a trans-daughter, and when my child came out to me, I contacted her about how to deal with it. Her wise advise was simple. “It’s important to acknowledge your feelings, but ask yourself why you feel that way?” I really took on this question and honestly, don’t have a very good answer.
Is it because I miss the life I had envisioned for my child? Is it the struggles my child will need to face as they move on? Where am I in the equation? Is it a matter for the parents?
The pure fact is I am in the background. This is not my path. I am doing what I feel is my most important job… and that is loving my child. My job is to love and give love. That’s it. However they need it, I will give it. It sounds simple and easy, but it’s not. It is complicated. But loving my child is easy. Seeing those brown eyes every day is a joy. I would much rather see those bright eyes in the sunshine than have them forced closed under six feet of earth. It hurts to say that, but it is absolutely true.
Will I miss things? Yes. Would I wish for something easier? I would. Is this my decision? No. Am I actually involved with this decision? No. Am I an important factor in my child’s life? Yes. Does my child need my love and support? Yes.
A GROWING REALITY
In my close circles, I have several friends that also have trans children. And we all react differently, and the fact is, we have to, because our children are not the same. I feel blessed that my “Artie” is so good natured and so patient with me as I open my heart another level. This is a new reality that has growing acceptability and opposition.
As a mother who understands the turmoil of the trans life debate, I don’t feel that the people making the rules understand how to love bigger than what you think you can. The easiest thing to do when you feel threatened is to make a bunch of rules. But there is no harm in living a trans life. It doesn’t affect you, lawmaker. Why are you threatened? This is not drugs or guns. These are beautiful people listening to their inner soul and reaching beyond what they see. They are brave. It takes so much courage to change your course, to face questions daily, and to answer them respectfully. They are choosing their happiness and there is nothing wrong with that.
I’m trying to love my trans kid a little more every day, because I feel that they need it. I am not as brave as them, but I’m learning more than I ever thought, about kindness and courage. My heart is open and my love is growing.
