Tag Archives: gender identity

What Happens Next

14 Friday Jan 2011

Posted by in acceptance, belief, coping, discussions, friends, gender diversity, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, LGBT, life lessons, love, parenting, support, transgender, transition

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Often people will ask me if my daughter’s mind will change.

“What if she just starts feeling like a boy again?” they inquire, usually with a look on their face that stresses that what I am about to say is critical for their piece of mind. Sometimes the questioner impatiently puts their hand to their chin and squint their eyes as if that makes whatever comes next easier to swallow. Other times they lean in with urgency or lean back with a chill and fold their arms tightly to their shoulders bracing themselves with a self-hug, as if what comes out of my mouth next is some seriously classified information. Regardless of the style, the folks that ask this question are more often than not hinged on my answer.

I have to admit here that I do not have a poker face. If you know me, you’ll start laughing here. It’s true. After dozens of failed attempts at stifling my extremely expressive facial expressions (and throw in hand gestures for good measure) I’ve just come to accept it as a part of me. What can you do? What you see is what you get with me, for better or worse.

“Okay,” I reply and then I just stop. My friends have reported that I usually say this rather quickly, with a smile, one raised eyebrow and a slight shrug. You can imagine the responses…

“What do you MEAN okay?”

“What’s OKAY about that?”

“No, but what are you going to DO?”

It’s about this time I slip into caregiver mode, a “shhhhh… there, there dear…” vibe seeps out of me as I recognize that this person in front of me needs more. More than my okay-ness with my child’s gender identity. More than my casual attitude toward our lives shifting drastically in another direction. More than my quiet acceptance of the future. More.

That’s how some very long and very meaningful conversations begin, with well-intentioned questions, and I love it. The dialogue opens up channels of thought, for both of us. Talking always takes us to the next step. I’m not saying it resolves everything. We may get to a place where we disagree more than we did before, but it’s a jumping off point. That’s exciting stuff to me. I guess that’s why I like to do talks and open the floor up for discussion, to hear people’s thoughts. There is so much out there I’ve yet to learn and I feel ready.

“None of us know what will happen next,” is usually what I return to when I’m talking with someone who wants me to shine up my crystal ball. It’s a fact we can all agree on and relate to, even if it feels foreign at first. It’s an aspect of parenting that we all face, no matter what our family looks like. Parents cannot plan out their children’s lives, no matter how hard we try. If we work like hell to shape them into what we want, we will most often fail. Children are not under our control. I see parents as guides for life. Be ready for your camper to go off course once in a while, it’s their journey.

Inevitably life will take its course and we can hop on the ride or sit by the sidelines planning our next move for eternity. Ditch the map! Enjoy, make the most of it and if you can, share love along the way.

 

Book Review – Transgender Mental Health

10 Monday Jan 2011

Posted by in acceptance, activism, advocacy, belief, children's book, coping, discussions, education, family, gender diversity, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, LGBT, life lessons, love, memories, parenting, resources, support, transgender, transition

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Click here to read the latest review of my new children’s book Be Who You Are. Many thanks to Ami Kaplan at TGMentalHealth.com for her insightful and supportive  feedback. If you know anyone who could benefit from our message, reach out and send a link.

The book is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, AuthorHouse, and over 20,000 book retailers. Please share your reviews here or on the sites where you purchased your copy. Every little comment helps send the message of love, hope and support out to the world.

Thank you!

Finding Compassion

09 Sunday Jan 2011

Posted by in acceptance, activism, advocacy, belief, coping, discussions, family, fear, friends, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender variant, LGBT, life lessons, parenting, stealth, transgender, uncategorized

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The senseless shooting yesterday in Arizona made me stop and think. Life is so short. Glued to Headline News this morning, much like many Americans I am sure, I was grasping for some bit of understanding.

My heart sank. The mother of the 9-year-old victim spoke eloquently about how her daughter, born on 9/11, was brought into this world amidst tragedy and left this world in the same helpless circumstance. As I wiped the tears I could not hold back, my two little children played upstairs unaware of the hatred in this world.

From time to time I get a glimpse of that small mindedness here on this blog, my simple, safe space that I share with the world. Often the comments are so inappropriate that I do not post them, so I keep them hidden from you and me and them as if they never existed at all. But is that fair? I pocket the hate sometimes like an old receipt that I feel the irrational need to keep, but can’t seem to file away in the right place. So it lingers in a jacket that’s out of season left hanging in the closet. Forgotten, but there.

Here I’m on the cusp of being public for the first time to promote the book and I’m still not quite sure how to deal with hate? A friend’s voice whispers in my ear that compassion is the key. Easier said than done sometimes I think. In the past my knee jerk response to this conflict was fear, but I see how that doesn’t serve me. It doesn’t come close to satisfying what is present in my heart.

Last year a parent who was acting on the defensive (long story) threatened to out my daughter, who lives stealth. The mere mention of this sent me into a panic. Shaking, I sat at the kitchen table like a statue, unable to stop the rage and fear that pulsed through me like sparks flying off jumper cables. One part of me wanted to unleash my wrath, protect my child at any cost. Mama Bear was not happy. The other part of me wondered what I could do to defuse the situation. “How do I make this woman leave us alone?” I thought. I wanted to run away. Change our name and never look back. Looking back I recognize that her threats were out of my control. The only thing I was responsible for is my reaction to the situation.

Say the same scenario happens today, how do I react? How do I seize the opportunity for compassion and go there. Jump into the messy parts of misunderstanding and small mindedness and create a small space for love, for what it’s worth. Would it bridge the gap between she and I? Would she come to a greater understanding of my child’s diversity and I to a deeper knowledge of her fears? That’s yet to be seen.

We’ll never make sense of hatred, let’s face it. The only action I can control, especially when faced with tragedy like what happened in Arizona, is to muster up the courage to show compassion for all people, and teach my children to do the same.

The Little Things

03 Monday Jan 2011

Posted by in acceptance, belief, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, life lessons, memories, transgender, transition

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The little things make us happy, don’t they? Like finding just the right present under the holiday tree or seeing your child’s smile on a bright, shiny morning.

For years Hope coveted other friend’s princess shoes, but when present time came around she opted for a doll each time. Even when we asked if she wanted the shoes, she would trade up for something that was bigger. Still, I would see her prance at play dates, absolutely entranced in the shoes. Each time she’d run to me, clicking away, as she modeled the “high heels”, excitement flying around the room.

Each time my mind slipped backwards, years ago, when she pleaded for pink sandals. I can still picture my son, then a sweet four year old, who was hell bent on buying pink sandals when we picked out our spring shoes at a local boutique. It came as a surprise. The shoes were awful actually, the kind that has awkward straps and glued on flowers and to my disgust, glitter in all the wrong places. It wasn’t the color I protested, it was that they were so ugly. She, then he, begged for them. The two sales people and I showed my child at least twelve other pink sandals that ranged from fancy to sporty, but nothing worked. Only those hideously garish sandals filled some void that I couldn’t comprehend. It was such a little thing to be so upset about. Yes, I bought the shoes, but as we settled in the car afterward I turned backwards in my seat to ask why the pink sandals were so important. After a considerable amount of time my child told me that he knew something he couldn’t tell me. Fear raced through my entire body – abuse? What happened? I calmly told him that he could tell me anything, that he could trust me to understand and to love him, no matter what. I hung on waiting for his answer.

“I’m a girl inside Mommy,” were the words that I didn’t expect. Those few little words began our journey and ultimately brought us where we are today, all these years and conversations later.

So Christmas morning as she scanned the presents left for her, Hope’s eyes fixated on the one little thing she’s never quite asked for, but has wanted her whole life. She got the princess shoes that day and she never took them off.

 

Not the Person You Should Joke With

21 Tuesday Dec 2010

Posted by in acceptance, coping, family, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, holidays, life lessons, parenting, siblings, transgender, transition, uncategorized

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Palms sweating profusely I handed my license and the plane tickets to the TSA agent as we all stood obediently in front of The Decision Maker. One person stood between us and the body scanner or the infamous pat down. I could hear the snap of latex gloves as we waited for what seemed an eternity.

Sure, our compliant smiles said “We are a totally normal family who doesn’t pose a threat to anyone… Really!” but the agent’s face twisted and turned as he went rifled through our paperwork, eyes darting from the details on the page to each one of us with a burning look of authority. Our smiles became forced and then it just plain hurt to maintain them. Still, we struggled with equal intensity to look like your typical, unassuming family who just wants to get through airport security without incident. Guessing from the way I felt like I was going to pass out, I think we were holding our breath, too.

“So little man, what’s your name?” said the agent, his eyes fixed so intensely on Will that I thought my son might catch fire.

Without hesitation, Will blankly replied, “Tony.”

Our heads snapped to glare at Will who was not smiling, mind you, but rather looking as bored as bored could be. Tony? Oh, Tony Stark… Iron Man. In that moment I forgot that Will had signed his schoolwork as Tony. Little writing samples, holiday ornaments and artwork all reflecting the wrong name, but now? Now when we are trying so hard to walk through this situation unscathed.

“Damn that Tony!” I thought, “He’s going to get us thrown into the scanners quicker than you could spell bomb scare.” The agents eyes scanned the paperwork, probably wondering if he should check an Amber Alert for this cute, missing Tony.

“This isn’t the person you should joke with,” Hope leaned into whisper, but it came out like a shout. Kind of like when my mom tries to talk in church. “This is serious.”

Under his breath a barely audible “Will” came out and I was sure we were sunk. Get ready for a cavity search and a discussion with the police. Now I didn’t give a second thought to Hope’s transgender status in a body scanner. That was nothing. In that moment I was way more concerned with how I’d convince the TSA that Will was not Tony. Isn’t that how life pulls a switcheroo on you? You prepare for one thing and end up dealing with another.

All of the sudden my paperwork was beneath my nose and an arm ushered us to the conveyor belt near the rest of the busy travelers. As I walked in disbelief I glanced back to the agent who had moved on to the next person like nothing ever happened. He let us go! I mouthed a “thank you” to the back of the agent’s head and closed my eyes as I removed my shoes and released my stagnant breath in a heavy sigh. Thank you.

Looking Inside

20 Monday Dec 2010

Posted by in acceptance, coping, discussions, education, fear, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, LGBT, life lessons, parenting, stealth, transgender, transition, uncategorized

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Time flew by as I folded little clothes and spread outfits across my bed. Packing for a trip might be tedious for some, but I love the organization of it. A joy. Suddenly, still lost in thought, my hands dropped the suitcase.

Body scanners. The buzz about our airport getting the x-ray machines whirled around my brain. What does that mean for Hope? Her ticket has her chosen name on it and we’ve never had any trouble traveling before, but what happens when she walks through a scanner and her anatomy doesn’t match her gender presentation and name? Would we be pulled aside? Would they separate us? Would the paperwork I carry from our therapist and pediatrician satisfy them? I’ve heard that if you decline the scanner, you automatically get a pat down by TSA. Not the option my private daughter would feel comfortable with either so what are our options?

Each scenario played out differently in my brain. Best case – maybe it wouldn’t be an issue? Perhaps she’d confidently walk through the scanner like everyone else and that’s it. Alternatively she could walk through and they could question her identity. I rehearsed my responses. I’d quickly provide her paperwork and they would accept it. Hope might be aware of it, but I could prepare her for that. Just as easily though, they could make a big deal of it. Would they? Do they? The possibilities seemed to spring from one side of my reasoning, the more logical side, to the more desperate, fearful side and then back again.

Each day brings new challenges. Yesterday it was how to find a ballet leotard that didn’t reveal too much. Today it is explaining body scanners to my kids. Tomorrow it will be something different. We can’t complain, really. Everyone has something that they have to work at or cope with. Everyone. Still, my heart feels heavy for every person who has to share their private struggles openly with the world, like my transgender daughter.

It’s not just the way people “read” her in terms of her gender, but the severe disconnect in her life, similar to other trans individuals. In many cases their birth certificate doesn’t match their chosen name. Their gender marker is wrong on their license. They have to explain their transition daily to just about everyone from the dentist’s office to the mail carrier. They have to educate family and friends about how they truly feel. Their body doesn’t match their brain. And it’s mostly public, right out there for everyone to see. Just imagine the courage it takes to pursue the life you know to be true. How much fortitude, perseverance and tenacity it takes to eliminate the disconnect. I’m continually inspired.

As I zipped the bulging suitcase shut I repeated a little mantra that goes like this… I stand in my truth. Every word and action will be there when I need it. As long as I have my breath I can handle any situation. And I repeated it until I believed it to be true. And it is. Whatever challenge arises, I know I have what it takes to figure it out, to keep the kids safe and to be true to myself. That’s all I need.

 

Released

09 Thursday Dec 2010

Posted by in acceptance, activism, advocacy, belief, coping, discussions, education, family, fear, friends, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, gratitude, happiness, joy, life lessons, love, memories, parenting, stealth, transgender, transition, uncategorized

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I’m thrilled to announce that Be Who You Are is finally available for purchase!

Such a long lesson in patience my friends, but isn’t that the way life leads us where we need to go? Recently I met with a lovely reporter who interviewed me months ago about the book and commented that I seemed much more at ease now. I had to admit to her that I didn’t know how I’d feel when the book was released. Would I summon the courage necessary to charge forward and spread this powerful message? Would I feel exposed on some basic level and feel paralyzed to move forward? I didn’t know. I was still thinking.

On one hand I feel like a warrior, ready to talk, discuss and educate, even with those people who do not agree with our perspective. On the other hand I feel like it is a giant leap, especially when I try to keep our real names and identities unknown. I think most families with gender non-conforming kids, especially those that have transitioned may feel this way. Visibility vs. Invisibility. Ever since Hope’s transition and I started writing this blog I have stepped back in many aspects of my life. I needed to. I abandoned my former career, a certain level of notoriety and even some friends that made my social circle as wide open as I wanted. I went from being in the center to walking away. Gladly.

During this time I’ve done some serious soul-searching, seeking awareness, even enlightenment, as I open myself to every single thing that scares me. While keeping my children safe was my primary focus during the hiatus, I think I took the chance to get away myself, just to think. I look back at all those mornings on the beach this summer when I watched those two carefree souls frolicking and splashing. I know now that I was gearing up. I was charging the battery. Getting strong. All that together time made us closer than ever and we needed it, probably more than we’ll ever know. I needed to be quiet in my thoughts for some time to really feel through what it was that I was after. Define what I was called to do.

Now I sit on my living room couch gazing at wood in the hearth just begging for fire. I feel like that wood, ready for the spark. Ready to begin. I know what I’m after – to tell our story, to raise awareness, to make this world a better place for my children and all children. I’ve had my time to think and rest, and now I’m ready to get to work.

Ditching the Disguise

04 Thursday Nov 2010

Posted by in acceptance, belief, coping, family, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, gratitude, holidays, joy, LGBT, life lessons, love, memories, parenting, transgender, transition, uncategorized

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Preparing for Halloween last month was unlike any other. For the first time in years, my daughter’s dress up opportunity wasn’t about the wig. Years prior it was her obsession - choosing the right one, getting it to fit and then sweating for hours underneath. Clearly the wig was not my favorite thing. Not because of any controversy, but because it was a pain in Mommy’s behind. (Have you tried brushing out a tangled, cheap wig lately? Oy!)

Years ago she chose a big, brown, straggly wig for her Hermione Grainger costume and adored it. (She wore it constantly afterwards. I’ve never seen a child with such a sweaty head or a bigger smile!) Back then Halloween was her ticket out. A way, not to hide, but to be 100% real among her friends and neighbors. Although she was presenting as a girl at home, she hadn’t made her social transition outside the house yet. Halloween became the first testing ground and she blossomed each time she put on the outfit.

Hindsight is 20/20, right? Read my blog excerpt from 2009 and you’ll see a different mom, a different writer. If you told me then that my child would socially transition to living as herself, a girl, months later I guess I would be pretty confused. I just wasn’t there yet and neither was she.

I’ll be honest, as I read the 2009 post I cringed a little, particularly because of the pronoun “he” now that we don’t refer to my daughter that way. I don’t even use “he” when I speak about my daughter in the past because she doesn’t. A couple of months ago I tried to use “he” for the pre-transition period and “she” for the post-transition for a public speaking gig and it didn’t work out. I flip-flopped and no one knew who the hell I was speaking about. Neither did I. By her definition, my daughter is who she is and I am inclined to take that lead. Until she asks for her history or pronoun be to be described otherwise, I am sticking with what she says.

It’s difficult to explain, these moments when the past collides with the present.I try to be gentle with myself when good intentions somehow resemble betrayal. How was I to know what the future would bring unless it all unfolded the way it did? I often remind myself that I can’t mind-read. My crystal ball seems to be on perpetual back order and I’m happy with that.

Thankfully, this Halloween was calm and peaceful. Hope chose a simple Princess costume and she didn’t give any thought to a wig. Her own ever-growing long locks looked more authentic to the costume than any wig ever could. This year felt like the first time she wasn’t preoccupied about putting on a disguise and was happy just being 100% real with everyone she knows.

Bullying in Grade School

14 Thursday Oct 2010

Posted by in activism, advocacy, education, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gender queer, gender variant, life lessons, school, support

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As I read through an email this morning urging me to contact high school principals and encourage bullying education, I could only think of my daughter. Hope was bullied on an almost daily basis by one child in kindergarten last year. Kindergarten. The principal didn’t help us. The local safe school alliance didn’t help us when I desperate;y reached out to them. The legal department of the school system didn’t help us when I filed a formal complaint. No one took this bullying seriously.

Hope survived. By leaving our neighbor school she was freed from a child who repeatedly licked, spit, kicked, pushed, sniffed, groped, restrained, kissed, shouted, taunted, grabbed, head butt and threw things at her. Thankfully we had resources to get her help, but did he get help? Did this child get counseling for this behavior or did he just move on to hurt the next child?

After months of his bullying the principal still had the audacity to tell me, “I think he just likes her.” Likes her? He whisper he hates her then pushes her down when no one is looking because he is fond of her? Are you insane? Who will put a stop to this type of behavior? Who is going to get that child the help he needs before he either seriously hurts a child or even worse, his victims are pushed to take their own lives to escape his torment.

We can focus on high school age children all we want and that helps, but aren’t we being a little short-sighted if we forget to start education about bullying when children start school? If kids can recognize that this type of behavior WILL NOT be tolerated, then they can be allies for their friends instead of witnesses to abuse. For this to work the behavior has to be called out and stopped.

School systems, principals and teacher have to unite against this abuse. Get some courage people! Get outraged that the children in your care are being harmed everyday. Do not look away. Do not make excuses. Do not let it continue. Make. It. Stop.

 

The Little Walkabout

12 Tuesday Oct 2010

Posted by in coping, family, gender identity, gender non-conforming, gratitude, happiness, joy, life lessons, love, siblings, transition, uncategorized

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This morning I sauntered along the park hand in hand with my little one. Lost in thought I caught a blizzard out of the corner of my eye and my son’s hearty belly laugh tickled my ears. Bright yellow leaves cascaded from an enormous tree by the hundreds. Instinctively we started darting from one leaf to the next trying to catch them mid-flight. I lost all train of my thoughts giving into the laughter built up within me. Each time we collected a leaf we squealed with joy and proudly displayed our latest catch. Exhilarating!

When we sat down to sketch a nearby fountain I felt like life slapped me in the face I was so alive and happy. As our Sharpies made masterpieces we talked about everything under the sun. What would we do for the holidays? Where did his grandfather go after he died? What was our favorite season? How did we describe God? The things this little (almost) five-year old and I covered. The incredibly loving and clever mind of this little person!

So many times I wonder if Hope’s life overshadows his, even more than any older child takes over a younger child’s schedule. We’ve altered all of our lives because of Hope’s transition and the bullying she experienced in school. Instead of being defiant or bitter, he is this affectionate, understanding brother always willing to tell his sister “You look pretty” or “That’s a nice dress” when she gets ready. It’s destiny that we are all connected this way. The love that surrounds this little family is inspiring and I am eternally grateful.

No matter how hard I try I can’t balance the scales of their lives and that is okay. I’m sure that is a struggle for every parent with more than one child. The best that I can do is to see each child for exactly who they are and celebrate that person proudly.

I think our little walkabouts will become a habit, not a special treat.

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