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| Credit: http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/962472 |
When your child comes out as transgender at eleven-years-old and nobody saw it coming, people have a lot of questions. In the last month, about half the time I spend with anyone who knows us involves answering those questions. The other half involves me asking them to dig deep for any good gossip that can distract me from the churning medical encyclopedia that is my brain these days.
But I'm all about answering questions, because education and understanding are what will make this world a safe place for my daughter and others like her. So here are a few of the things I get asked the most.
(Incidentally, interviewing myself = best borderline narcissistic game of all time.)
How do you feel now that your family has made this so public? Any regrets?
No regrets at all. Going public was the best thing we could have done in our particular situation. It took a huge load off of us having to tell each person individually (I'm unbelievably lazy). We told family and close friends first, then dropped the atomic trans bomb on everyone else. Sorry, guys. Also, I know not everyone reacts to news in the same way, so giving each person time to process it and maybe read up on it before saying anything to us was a good idea. It's made for a more positive reaction, overall.
Different trans families do things in different ways. Some pick up and move far away so they can start fresh in new communities with their child living as their preferred gender. That wasn't going to work for us. We just moved less than a year ago. Our kids love their new schools and my husband is ten minutes from work. As a writer and social media whore with "three boys," I would have had to go completely offline or stop talking about my kids altogether. So we decided to take a bold step into the spotlight. It was a huge risk, but has paid off in wonderful ways. Though my self-absorbed self might desperately try, I can't take any credit for your reactions. They are yours, and they're a testament to how open-minded and compassionate you are. You've been incredible. Thank you.
How's Gutsy doing?
She is transitioning to life as a full-time girl. Everyone uses her new name and the proper pronouns (we all trip up from time to time.) The kids at school are starting to do the same, taking the cue from a great teacher and her close friends. We found a stylist who is going to make her hair totally adorbs while it grows out, and we know a few teen girls who are happy to take her on shopping trips to find the right clothes. Like all transitions, this one will take time. It's been an interesting experience and a great learning opportunity for all of us, so far.
My daughter's world is lighter since she's been able to start living as her authentic self. She's far less anxious, smiling more, and no longer living life tucked away in her room whenever she's not at school. She's interactive and animated, funny and sweet. The world is finally starting to see the beautiful person that had been locked inside a shell that doesn't represent her. If I could sum up what I'm seeing, I would say she's emerging. And it is an honour to watch those wings unfold.
How is the school handling things?
Really well, actually. It was a bit of a bumpy start, but I think we're all on the same page now. The gist of it is, Gutsy is in charge of her transition and our job is to support her in any way possible. They're going to be doing some staff training, are getting the right people involved, and are helping us work with the middle school she'll be attending next year.
This all came about during the meeting I had on Friday with several school officials and teachers. I went prepared. I brought printouts. That I, um, highlighted.
And manuals.
And books.
And I almost brought the posters in but decided at the last minute to leave them in the car. They can be for the next meeting. Best not to overwhelm the educators. You have to know when to make your moves. This time: Printouts and books. Next time: Posters and "Sexual Healing" on the ghetto blaster to woo them a little. Gentle and slow.
How are you doing?
Better in the last week. I was a bit of a hot mess before then. Still looked dead sexy, of course, but was a wreck inside. My blood pressure was shooting up so high that the doctor took me off caffeine.
Yes: caffeine. Liquid orgasm. Productivity foreplay. Dildo in a cup. I was devastated. On the other hand, I would prefer not to have a stroke or a heart attack right now because that might not help our situation. So, for the last week-and-a-half. I have been a decaf-only girl. That's probably the most traumatic thing that has ever happened to me, but I'm working through it.
I'm getting informed. Information helps me sleep at night. It makes the whole thing less scary and new. I've spoken to several experts, read my weight in books and articles, got to second base with PubMed research papers (nice boobs, PubMed) and attended two LGBT-focused workshops in the past week.
My fear and sadness have nothing to do with my child being transgender and everything to do with how the world will treat her. I'm scared of people and their reactions to who she is. The best way to combat ignorance - and I know we will face a lot of it - is through knowledge. I am educating myself so I can, in turn, educate others.
I'm contemplating getting a shirt that says, "Listen to me, Bitches." I'm sure it would be a hit at school functions.
How's your husband doing?
He's a little less stress-y than I am, actually, but he chalks it up to being distracted at work all day while I spearhead the "Gutsy is Emerging and We Need to Help Her" Campaign. He's never put a lot of emphasis on gender. He just wants his child to be happy, so if this is making her happier, then he's behind her 100%.
But he still gets to drink real coffee which makes him a little bit of an asshole. (Thankfully a hot one.)
How about Spawnling and Intrepid?
Amazing. Adaptable. Supportive. We had therapy all lined up for them until we realized they were totally cool with it. Things are no different here than they were before the big reveal. I guess you could say we're a very typical family is a somewhat atypical situation.
Has your family been supportive? What about your friends?
Our family has been fantastic. Everyone from Gutsy's cousins to her great-grandma have wrapped her up in love and acceptance. The vast majority of our friends have also been incredibly supportive. Not everyone will be, but most of them have been as wonderful as I expected they'd be.
Last night we went out with a great friend of mine and her boys, who have known Gutsy for many years. And you know what? It was business as usual as far as the kids were concerned. They played and laughed and had a great time. The only difference was that they referred to Gutsy as "she" and used her new name. When they slipped up, nobody cared. It was no big deal. When children are raised by open and accepting parents, they, too, become open and accepting. I am making it my mission to surround us with people who are just that.
Ok, but what about the other people? There have to be people who aren't all rainbows and unicorns about this.
I'm happy to say that we're talking about a very small minority, here. None of them have been outright negative, only silent since we broke the news. No phone calls, emails or texts. Not even an "I don't really know what to say right now, but want you to know we're thinking of you." Some of them are very active on Facebook and, while they normally comment on or like statuses I write, have done neither in the last few weeks. Some will only acknowledge posts I make that have nothing to do with Gutsy, which I think hurts even more because I know they've seen what's been going on.
I realize everybody processes things and deals with them in their own way and in their own time. I've been trying to give them that time, but I'm running out of patience. When families are in crisis of any kind, they need support. I've supported some of these people through some pretty big stuff, and if they can't return the favour, then our friendship has sadly reached its expiration date.
As much as I'd like to, I'm not going to systematically chase people down to find out why they have their blinders on. I'm guessing most of what I hear will be negative, anyway, and I don't have the time or patience for that. I have to direct my energies elsewhere. My job is to be Gutsy's (and Intrepid's, and Spawnling's) mom, keep my shit together, and make sure we have a support circle. It's not to try and convince people to stick around.
What are the next steps in the process?
Other than building up her wardrobe, growing her hair out, educating the community and looking quite fabulous, we have appointments lined up at the local Children's Hospital's Gender Identity Clinic. They have a fantastic team of doctors, nurses and social workers who specialize in this transition business. We're still in the preliminary stages, but the next step will be to get a formal diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria (which is needed for medical interventions), followed by checking for signs of puberty. As you can probably imagine, going through male puberty when you feel like a female inside would be a fuckton of trauma for a lot of kids, including Gutsy. In the early stages of puberty, a hormone blocker can be given to stop those changes from happening. It has no side effects and can be removed at any time to allow that puberty to happen, should she ever change her mind. Step 2 would be giving her female hormones to allow her to grow into a body that more suits her gender identity, but that won't be for a few years.
What do you worry about most?
Holy fuck. What don't I worry about? I'm all kinds of late nights and early mornings these days. I worry about middle school, bullying, violence, handling sleepovers, bathrooms, change rooms, public swimming, angry school parents, missing any signs that she's getting depressed, the unbelievably high suicide rate, dating, employment, family, children... And that's just off the top of my head.
And now we see firsthand why I'm not allowed any caffeine.
I worry about a lot of stuff, but I try not to let it take over. She is happy today. She is healthy today. She is loved today. This is a veritable exercise in living in the moment. I'm doing a pretty decent job most of the time.
I should win something.
Like the ability to drink coffee again.
Pout.