For what it’s worth…transition isn’t just life-saving, it’s life-bringing.
I am blessed enough to have a special person in my life, and he’s becoming the man we always knew he was meant to be. But even though we are excited about his transition, it isn’t easy to talk about. I wanted to share our story so that others may find inspiration in helping their own child’s transition. I am deeply humbled and honored to be the parent of a transitioning child. People have this conception that transition is wrong or should be stopped even though it’s perfectly safe and natural. But it’s ok for parents like me to experience fear. When it comes to transitioning, I feel scared and overwhelmed for my son, but I am only doing what I feel is right. I stay up late worrying about which bathroom will he use, or if someone will deny him life-saving medical care just because he transitioned. I can’t even imagine how hard this is for a BiPOC parent: our whiteness still shelters us, even in the midst of his gender discomfort
Being a parent of a transitioning child, you are expected to be there with full enthusiastic support 24–7, sometimes with little or no support for yourself. Giving birth to a baby and watching them grow up to find their authentic self can be a challenge, both emotionally and financially. That’s why I joined a parent support group for families experiencing transition. They often ask… how did you know he was transitioning? How do you know this the right thing to do? Well, let me tell you. It started when he was very young. He was always the tallest kid in his class. He always played with the boy toys and liked to make guns out of everything (which we stopped immediately because even stick guns are dangerous and normalize power structures). He wanted to join the Boy Scouts and go camping. We always knew this was his path, and when he came out to us, we felt a sigh of relief. If anyone had a problem with his transition, we were prepared to cut them out of our life. Sometimes, compromise is just too dangerous to contemplate.
There is also a complexity with transitioning from boy to man and I worry that society is trying to force him be someone he is not. Friends, siblings, teachers, and family see him the old way, as the boy that he was, and don’t understand that transition is essential to his mental and physical health. Seeing his older brother’s transition has caused some tension, and maybe even the way all the neighbors’ kids are transitioning, too. His dad has spoken to him about his own transition, and his uncles’ transitions, and how they were tough… especially back when people didn’t talk about transition in an open and inclusivity-embracing way. But we support our children in every way we can. We work hard to promote inclusiveness and understanding and not steer them toward gender, age, race, indigenous status, sexual, physical or neurodiversity-related stereotypes. It makes me so angry when society is trying to put him in a box. I refuse to let him feel anything less than accepted.
People say I am an amazing mom. One friend approached me at the pool last summer, gave me a big hug and said, “you are so brave, really.” I know in my heart my son is the brave one, but I said thank you anyway. He is the one facing his friends every day at school as he transitions. We don’t see transition as a choice: it was meant to be, and we are here to support him. Amazingly, we met up with some old friends we haven’t seen in years on a ski trip to Tahoe and everyone around him accepted him as if nothing had changed! They didn’t even comment on his voice deepening, the facial hair, or his face becoming more chiseled.
When our family came out to the world, we expected to be scolded for allowing the transition to take place. Instead, we have found doctors and therapists willing to help him through the anxiety-provoking development of sexual maturity. We acknowledge our privilege, and my son looks forward to a time he can give back, and account for the privilege he has enjoyed as someone assigned male at birth. We know that he will be someone who stands up and fights for those less fortunate. The disabled. The differently motivated. The female. The black. The journey of self-discovery in the arms of loving parents is all kids really need.
Of course, the road is not always easy. It’s normal to grieve the loss of childhood and feel anxious about how your child may survive in the world. Supporting your child through the transition from boy to man requires tenacity and patience. Trust your child that he can survive his transition. Forgive yourself on those occasional days when you wish you’d had a daughter instead. And don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. You are not alone.
