(This is an edited version of my original post, Dear Judgmental Mom, published on September 17, 2014. I shortened it to meet the submission guidelines for BlogHer Voices of the Year. Apparently I'm way too verbose. Like, way.)
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| Credit: Wikipedia Commons |
I just want you to know we're cool.
Yes you, with your eyes that won't meet mine, who
ignores me even when I speak to you, who seems to tell everyone but me how
strongly you disagree with us supporting our transgender child in her
transition.
The thing is, I have to let you have your opinion. I
don't have to like it or agree with it, but it's your right to have it.
I'll admit I’ve been a little hurt. Not because you
disagree with our parenting - that's entirely your call - but because of the
way you've chosen to go about it. We're not close friends, and I'm pretty sure
you don't even know I have a blog. But nobody likes to feel ignored or ostracized.
And for a while I contemplated avoiding any place you might be because it made
me uncomfortable.
I contemplated it for, like, two milliseconds.
That would have been needlessly complicated and my
life is complicated enough. I'm glad I talked myself out of that one. And you
know what else? I don't want my daughter avoiding places because of what other
people might think, so I'm definitely not going to set that kind of example.
I want her walk tall, hold her beautiful head up, and
be fierce. I want her to part the proverbial sea wherever she goes, and those
nearby can either choose to be where she is or swim away. She doesn't need to
be avoiding people - ever. And neither do I.
My child is undergoing a huge transformation. It's
something you or I could never fully grasp, but I might have a better clue because
I researched transgender issues before blindly whacking at them with the
judgment cane. This was a kid who hid in her room for years. When she lived as
a boy, she was depressed and riddled with anxiety.
When she realized the source of her pain, this was a
kid who was terrified of what that meant in a way I can't even begin to
imagine.
But she told her parents; she entrusted us with this
secret she had been holding onto so tightly. She is the bravest human being I
know, and probably one of the bravest you know too - even if you can't see it right
now. You may never see it, but that doesn't make it any less true.
As parents, we did what unconditional love told us to
do: we supported our child. What else is there to do, really? Have
you seen the statistics on trans kids who aren't supported by their families?
Sky high suicide rates.
Homelessness.
Poverty.
Misery.
But our daughter has some key advantages: She has an
open-minded family, access to specialists, and time on her side.
Trans kids who get help at her age thrive. They thrive,
lady. That's what we want for her, a rich and full and wonderful life. Isn't
that what every parent wants?
So, if kids who are supported in their transition
thrive and kids who are not supported have the highest suicide rate of any marginalized
group, who is rocking the shit out of this parenting thing?
Oh, that's right: This girl. The one
you're judging.
Funny, that.
Today I took my daughter to get a really cute haircut.
She also got her first purse and a necklace and some pretty shoes. She looks
totally adorable and about as girly as a girl can girl. I can't wait for you to
see her.
Because we will be around, my daughter and I.
We won't be avoiding any place or any person.
We will be standing tall and making waves.
We won't ignore you like you do us.
I'm going to be nice and polite and cheerily engage
you whenever possible. I'm going to teach my daughter how to deal with
difficult people, because there will be many in her lifetime. There are haters
everywhere. You aren't the first and you won't be the last.
So expect smiles and great shoes and one amazing kid
and her mom all up in your business. In the nicest way possible, of course.
See you around.