The Kindness of a Stranger
Sometimes help comes in the most unlikely of places. I found myself in a quandary the other night, stuck between the two worlds that pull and tug at me, unable to feel comfortable in either space.
I arrived early for an event that I wanted to attend for some time. Thirty minutes early is my standard for things. Don’t ask me why. I hate to wait so it seems silly to arrive early for things, only to sit and wait for everyone else. Nevertheless, I cooked up some scheme in my head. I’d eat dinner and catch up on work. It sounded like a good plan at the time.
Every month I planned on attending this meeting, but something always got in the way. A school meeting was the same night. No babysitter for another. The excuses go on and on. This month was my month. Finally I would do something for myself that didn’t have anything to do with LGBT issues. I’d return to a former peer group that shared my same interests. Interests I had before gender became such a prominent player in our household. I thought I’d be more excited as the time drew near, but as the start time came and went I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay put. I didn’t want to walk in at all.
Sometimes I feel lost in the haziness of my roles as mother, advocate, educator, writer, woman. Where does one mission end and the other begin? Where do I fit in?
Many acquaintances attending the event do not know my life has changed in any way. Most do not know that I am an involved advocate in the LGBT community. Very few know that my child is transgender. Just as I think of their lives the same as I saw time last (married to the same person, same job, same home) they still think of my life as it was and that hurts. How do I answer when they ask how “the boys” are? How can I possibly tell the truth during small talk in a mixed group and yet, how can I lie? What do I do when parents of my daughter’s school friends are standing behind me and I have old friends who ask about my two sons?
I am tongue-tied, a deer in the headlights whenever the two worlds collide. It must look comical, or perhaps painful. During a casual conversation I mentioned I was writing a book, but couldn’t give an answer when asked what it was about. I stammered, paused, sweat like bullets. As I thought about what I should say I played the scenarios out in my head. Someone from my daughter’s school overhears and puts two and two together and she is outed. Someone from my old life finds out and outs us. The panic is overwhelming, intoxicating. I feel trapped with a bright white light pointed in my face like an interrogation. The truth resting somewhere behind what is blinding my eyes and preventing my speech.
Lost, I ventured out of the event to catch a breath. A stranger (who witnessed my mild panic attack when asked about the book) sat down next to me and just talked to me. I clung to that kindness as if it was a Coast Guard rescue from icy waters and somehow felt compelled to tell the truth about my life. This person didn’t care who I was or what I was going through. They just listened. I talked about my fear that not only that my daughter could be outed but that people would avoid me if they knew. Until that moment I never thought about how much it hurt to have family and friends look at me like I was a freak. The pain still buried in my heart of the people who turned away from me in my darkest hours.
Talking to this stranger released something that I needed to let go of. Something that even my support group couldn’t tap into. It wasn’t easy. I stumbled, started and stopped. Apologized and got a little choked up. But I said it out loud. On my terms, not in response to someone searching for my answers. I did it. And it felt good.
Your fears are probably not much different than people who transistion slowly and quietly, and while in the middle of it, find themselves facing old friends who wonder why you’re different. When you’re asked, “So, what are you doing these days?”, you’re afraid to say for fear of their reaction. You’re the surrogate for Hope. The public face of the world outside hers. Except you have two roles, hers as protector and yours as mother and public face.
Maybe you can use generic words, like, “Yeah, my children (or they) are fine.” Or, “I’m writing a book about our family.” And so on, the dance of words. I’ve learned to let people go when they react badly or wrongly, like, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”, and walk away. It’s hard to know what to do or say when you meet those who don’t want to listen and understand, let alone accept, such change, and with you, your love for your children being themselves than what we want, and all too often push or demand, them to be.
Kinda’ like the line from Sting’s song, “If you love them, set them free.” You’re letting your children free to be themselves with all your heart and love. And yes, the kindness of strangers is always a God-send.
Dear Scott- I love what you wrote. It makes so much sense to me. Such simple words but such a huge impact. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. It means a lot to me. Best- Jen
I know how hard it was to be in a awkward situation like that and all that really can be done is to be proud of Hope and yourself for letting her be who she is. You were blessed to have someone there to help you if you ever need someone to talk to just email me i’m a great listener
Thanks for the offer Rubin & I’ll take you up on it. I have to keep reminding myself that these little baby steps are meaningful. My Best- Jen
Dear Jen, I am in awe of your courage. Your brave articulation of your deepest fears and confusion empower me more than I can describe here. But I will try briefly to tell you how my heart hurt for you and Hope and all of us who internalize much guiilt, shame and judgment from a society locked in delusion.
I can’t know how you feel. But I would dare say without trying to offend you that I know that kind of pain at an even more intense level than you have experienced as of late. When I was born in 1951 in Ohio. By the time I realized that there was a problem, I also knew at a deep level that I was on my own. Alone. At the age of ten I knew that if I told anyone what I felt, that I would suffer greatly shame and humiliation. So, in a way I had already internalized those negative emotions.
To feel like an alien, utterly alone without support of any kind from anywhere in the universe is like walking a tightrope over an abyss. So I kept my dirty little secret of gender dysphoria to myself til I was forty. That’s a long time to keep one’s truth to one’s self. There is a saying in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous that goes “We’re only as sick ss our secrets’.
And so I got sick for a couple of years. Diagnosed with Grave’s or hyperthyroidism in the early 90′s, my life changed dramatically. It was the third major trauma of my life. Somehow during the hyper phase of the disease, I intuited that keeping this shame and guilt inside of me for 40 years had a corrosive effect on my spirit, my body and my life. I really wanted to die or disappear, and made a couple of half hearted attempts.
But my will, like yours is strong. Eventually I achieved the proper perspective:We have no reason to be ashamed. If others choose to judge us, let it be their burden. We need not cooperate in a system of corrupt valuation.
What the average person thinks about us and our path is only as valuable as we make it. So if you trust yourself, and your path is righteous…whatever that means to you…make that your priority and disregard the rest. Whatever we imagine that people are thinking or saying is more a projection of our fear. And there is nothing to fear. The life of Trans people and their allies are simply pared down to a refined essence. No doubt we are catalysts for some monumental social disordering, and that always causes big ripples in tiny pools. But you are brave, wise, articulate and compassionate. And you have much to teach, I can feel it. So do not falter dear Warrior Woman, continue to fight the good fight. You have no reason to fear…nothing to be ashamed of. Seek the middle path. Practice NOT TAKING OTHER PEOPLE’S CRAP peronally. Their stuff is about them, not us!
Be Strong, you have much support.
Did I sound like I was lecturing? I didn’t mean it, really,
Sincerely, April Rose
I love you April Rose- that was an inspiring message! My sister always tells me to remember what is mine and what us someone else’s and it is hard for me. I am still working on making that distinction and it surely doesn’t come naturally at this point. But it is always good to hear a loving reminder like this. My feelings and my fear for Hope’s safety get intertwined sometimes.
I will fight the good fight- always. And with your support I literally feel like I can move mountains. I am so grateful for what you shared with me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. My Best- Jen
Acually that sounded more about me than you, but I hope I said something helpful..
Every good message comes from the heart. I thought it was wonderful.
When my life changed in a cataclysmic way, when I stepped through the looking glass into a totally alternate reality, one thing (amongst so many others) I noticed I lost was the inability to make small talk in any way. I’ve never been a social butterfly but now I find it excruciating.
I’ve lost my bearings and I feel adrift in my own life. Nothing now is how I thought it was, not even me. So when people casually ask ‘So, what have you been up to?’ or ‘Do you have children? How many? How old are they?’ etc, like you I am overwhelmed by the enormity of the responses they provoke in me. If I stumble through with euphemisms and half truths I feel my chest constricting and my face start to burn. The fear that others will judge me or turn away is there for me too.
I don’t have any helpful hints. I try to avoid social situations and retreat to the relative safety of human interaction via the internet
I’ve actually made a few new friends that way, who have spilled into ‘real life’, who only know the ‘new’ me. Then I have the very dear, old friends who have walked beside me into this new world, and just accept me as I am. As I said though, I still find social niceties agonizing.
So although I have no useful tips I just wanted to say that I can empathize. Once again I find myself full of admiration for the ways you find to deal with the challenges you meet. The kindness of strangers really is something isn’t it? But you have to be brave enough to keep your heart open to it. And that’s what I admire about you most of all. That through Hope’s journey and your own you have kept your heart and mind open. How much you choose to do that, to what extent, when and where is up to you. Be kind to yourself. You’ll get no judgements from me.
Kate- You’ve made me so happy just by your comment. It feels so much better when someone knows what you are talking about. It makes me feel a little less crazy. It’s comforting. I want to keep my heart open and everyday I try a little bit more. Keep in touch & thank you for being an amazing support. Best- Jen
“The fear that others will judge me or turn away is there for me too.”
Dear Jan, Kate, and the rest of this wonderful assemblage..I speak with the greatest respect and humility for the suffering that we all share. What a sad social conundrum in which so many of us find ourselves. How can we not be confused when we are taught that character counts only to find that the truth has subtext thst goes like this: Character counts if no other societally determined precepts are contradicted.
I’m working on a website that speaks directly to this contradiction. Jen, i do not expect that my approach that I am calling ‘METAPHYSICAL DETERMINISM’ will help you very much, as you’re position is unfortunately subordinate to a school system that holds your child ransom,
And in a very real way elementary school is the very place where we would, in egalitarian society, celebrate diversity and the courage to manifest it. Yet in eery duplication of my elementary experience of 50 years ago, Hope must necessarily conceal her true nature,her inner strength, her very powerful awareness of the transformative nature of personality at a time that we might celebrate her courage to find herself in this maze of imposed identity.
So she will carry the same burden that I did for so many years. She will hear many words like courage, honesty, character, humility ad infintitum…words that she will be compelled to define but prohibited from demonstrating. The reason for this is the first artificial division of all humans into the gendered binary, or sexism as programmed by the state.
Sexism is a conceptual wall, built and maintained by men, that divides people into two social groups for the sake of control. And the indoctrination begins so early in life that we are powerless to contradict it. This corruption of the spirit not only strangles human potential, but places parents in the role of accomplice in this process of the indoctrination. And so it goes…
In a just world where human-ness is paramount, we would explode this myth of sexism and applaud children like Hope and parents like you for their adherence to principles of ethical behavior.
This ain’t that kind of place…yet but as for me, I will continue to speak out against the most virulent of all virus to infect human consciousness for those of you who can’t.
Dear Kate, you sound embattled. If you need some support feel free to email me.
Thanks April Rose, I’ll keep that in mind. I am lucky to have good supports and I try hard to keep counting my blessings.
I suppose that stranger was never seen again. They may have been an angel coming to give you advice. I would tend to believe that myself as a Christian. Whatever you think though, it was such a lovely experience for you. It isn’t unusual for strangers to hit on the right things to say and for you to realise that some of the things that at first seem insurmountable are quite easy to deal with once you have the right mind set. It is such a shame that we feel we have to justify ourselves to others when in fact we don’t. I loved reading April’s reply and I am in total agreement with her. We make burdens for ourselves and carry around with us all sorts of guilt feelings for absolutely no reason. We don’t need to make excuses for who we are, what we are or anything else. If people cannot accept us or the problems we have because of Society’s attitude then the problem lies with them. It is far better to sever connections with those people rather than suffer unnecessarily because of their attitude. There are many people in this world who will support, who will come alongside and they are probably closer to you than you think. The point is this, be yourself because anything else is an excuse. You love your children and nothing will separate you from that love but you must love yourself first by not giving in to pressure just to satisfy those who otherwise have no understanding. Love
Shirley Anne
Thank you Shirley Anne. I think the hard part is not so much the societal pressure (although it is there) but the issue of maintaining this privacy about one part of my life when I’d love to just be out and let the chips fall where they may. I can’t do that with a daughter attending elementary school stealth. If I were to be 100% authentic in all situations I would actually threaten her safety and well being. I have my child’s wishes to think of and until she is ready to shoulder some of the burden of being out, this is the struggle that I have to come to terms with.
Having said that, I wouldn’t wish it any other way. My daughter is a happy, well adjusted person who is thrilled to just be one of the girls. She is living the life she’s dreamed of and every child deserves that chance- to be who they are without any added pressure. Thank you for your thoughts & stay in touch. Best- Jen