Thorns and Roses

" Trannies and Faggots. Wow, you got the cream of some sick man's loins."  This was the hate-filled comment left by a man named James Gifford on a Facebook post about my precious (trans/gay) children (Chris Rhodes and Courtney Rhodes) recently.

This statement not only attacks my children and me, but it attacks my husband and his parents and my parents.  I do not take this man's comment to heart, as I know who I am and I know who my children are, but I have to say, I was angry when I read it - so much so that I wrote another post calling him out for his meanness and then I deleted him as a Facebook friend.  He then blocked me - which was fine by me.  I mention all this because even though I seldom encounter people that voice this sort of opinion openly to me, I know they are out there and I know my children deal with this sort hate every day. 

I have written before about my religious beliefs.  I grew up Baptist and I have a strong belief and faith in God.  I believe that God created the Earth and Heavens and Hell and the people and animals.  I believe God created woman for man, as it says in the Bible in Genesis and many times throughout. But ... I also believe that the brilliant God I believe in created man with the ability to make choices.  He could have just as easily created man with the inability to make choices.  Believing that, I have concluded that I do not know what God's plan really is.  Is it that he wishes for all His people to find their way back to one straight and narrow path that is somewhere defined as the only path that leads to Him, or ... is his plan that man live each of their lives making choices that distract from some "perfect" path so that we all come to some realization that diversity and color and abstract and shattered pieces are really the things that will teach and unite and form beings He can truly appreciate and love?  The Bible teaches that God became angry when Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden, when they ate from the tree of Good and Evil.  It was after that that He put thorns on the rose bush; allowed the world to be more brutal.  A God that can and did create all the wonders of our world that He has created has to have known the choice Adam and Eve would make.  That's my belief.  Believing that ... I have to believe He knew that over the many millions of years, we would either destroy ourselves through and because of our diversities or find a way to all survive together.

We fight this fight every single day, in America and around the world - trying to find a way to live together peacefully.  And because it is impossible for every person to undo all of what they have done wrong, every person's ancestors to undo any of what they did wrong, every nation to undo all the wrongs they have done ... logic suggests that it is impossible, at this point, to revert easily or convert completely to some "perfect" path.  As individuals, we can continuously make new choices to try and "perfect" our own lives to the point that we believe we are living a life that God would be pleased with, but we can not do that by alienating or eliminating others from our lives that do not live as we live or how we believe they should live.  If that were the case, most people would be traveling through life completely alone.

One of the consequences of Adam and Eve's sin was the division of people/races/languages.  Creating a world where there was lack of unity and solidarity, was meant to be a "punishment" for man's sin.  My belief is ... God always intended it that way; diversity.  He allowed Satan to tempt Adam and Eve from the very beginning, according to the Bible.  The story is that Eve ate fruit from the Tree of Good and Evil and then so did Adam and sin was born.  If this is truly the beginning of the story as the Bible suggests, why would God even offer such a temptation (a brilliant God who could prevent it and also predict it) if that was not how it was intended to be?  Why create man filled with flaws and choice if you did not intend or desire to see their lives play out through their choices?  I do not believe God ever intended man to live simple, easy lives in a world with thornless roses.  How boring would that be?

Having said all this, I go back to the comment James Gifford left on my Facebook about my children and me and our family.  James Gifford does not believe my children or I are living the sort of lives he believes to be acceptable; it's apparent by his comment.  Are we to change the way we live to conform to some idea he believes to be "right"?  Do we just blindly accept that how he chooses to live his life is the "right" way?  And what if how he lives his life is not right for any of us - do we just change, anyway? We are not asking him to live his life the way we live our lives, even though we believe we live our lives in such a way that we are kind and loving to others, we are hurting no one, we love and protect each other, we support everyone else and respect how they live their lives, even James Gifford, who has the right to believe anything he wants to believe.

A brilliant God would create a world with diversity just to see all the paths people would take and how long and successfully it would take them to find a way to becoming unified, even and because of their diverse and unique individual lives.  That's the real test, in my opinion. 

My children and I aren't anymore diverse or unique than James Gifford, and I have to admit, I did nothing to bond his life to mine.  I failed that test when I deleted him as a "friend" on my Facebook.  I chose deleting this person from my Facebook over trying to reach out to him to make friends.  I did that because I believed I would likely enter into a debate I could not win - not to mention I was too angry to care about being his friend.  I told myself I did not need this sort of person in my life, as he obviously was disgusted enough to make such a public comment.  The truth of the matter is, I need this man in my life and he needs me in his, because we are so different from one another.  

Man has found a way to grow roses without thorns.  Sadly, both I and James Gifford found a way to still use those thorns against each other ...

Those Who Love Chris ...

People want to know, what it is like.  People want me to tell them that it is horrible.  You know, how people can be.  They want to feel the drama, sometimes - even the trauma.

It has sometimes been both of those things - drama and trauma.  But not so much of either, anymore.  It is becoming easier.  It is becoming our life.  However, there are times when someone, like Anna, who is Chris's girlfriend, talks about Chris, and I listen to her.  It's strange. Because she is the one who loves Chris the most - even more than than me, I believe - different than me - and I hear when she talks about him and I am so aware of how she talks about him.

Just about the time you think you are aligning all of the peculiarities of all of this thing together, you hear someone, like Anna, talk about Chris in a way that makes him someone you want to know, but you do not know at all, the way he needs to be known or seen, the way that she sees him.

I don't even know how to describe it, other than to describe it as the way it should be.   Anna sees Chris closer and more as he wishes to be than I see him, yet.  He is lucky to have Anna and his twin, Courtney, as they do not seem to analyze all that it is - they just simply accept all that it is - all that he was and all that it he is now.  It is different than me; how they are with him.  How they have become with him.

I want to be there.  I want to know and see him as they see him.  I'm watching Anna and Courtney - those who love Chris the most - more, even than me.  I'm trying to learn how to love him and really see him the way they do ...

CHRIS

It was on this day last year that I found a hand-written letter from Chris to me and my husband on the desk in my bedroom, telling us that he was transgender.  He wrote us a letter because he wanted us to know how he felt, what he had been dealing with for so long and what his plans were.  He had thought about telling us over Christmas, but decided against it, as people suggested that it might be better to wait until after.  He left the letter and returned to New York.

Even as I write this, I cry.  Not because I am sad or hurt or angry or so scared, anymore.  I cry because when I read that letter last year, I honestly did not think I would survive all that I believed Chris's letter was saying to me.  I cry because I still carry with me all the the days I have struggled to be right with this thing - with Chris being and becoming someone other than who I had believed he would be.  I cry because I am surviving and I am filled with hope that I never imagined would show itself to me on this journey.  I cry because Chris has come so far and I have also come so far.  I cry because I am looking forward on this road, instead of behind us.  I cry because I am no longer so sad.

I am not where I totally need to be with Chris, yet.  I still find myself resisting in moments I should be engaging.  I still slip too often and call him "Chloe" or "she" or "the girls".  I still glance at him, sometimes, and wonder how it is we found ourselves on this strange and frightening journey.  I still battle, at times, with wanting things to be simpler, for me and for Chris.  I still miss Chloe.

But ... I am further up the mountain now - closer to Chris and farther from the strings that tried to bind me to a dark place that was on a lower path; a path where I almost couldn't even see Chris climbing this mountain ahead of me, alone.  I am now trying to do things to help Chris along and trying to make him realize I support him completely.  One of the things I did over Christmas was buy him a masculine ID bracelet with his name on it.  I considered putting "Chloe" on the reverse side, but decided not to do that, as I did not want him to be reminded of the struggles I have had, only be reminded of my acceptance and love when he wore the bracelet.  On the reverse side I simply had engraved, "I love you.  Mom."

I am not yet completely holding Chris's hand on this journey, but I am no longer clinging to Chloe's ...

I See You, Chris

Alexis asked me, "Am I the only one who thinks we should make Chris a new stocking this year?" as the one we had had the name "Chloe" on it.  She said, "I'll make him a new one; let me make it."  She loves arts and crafts and very much wanted to make the new stocking but I thought it would make more of a statement if we just changed the old one.  So I searched out some fabric paint in our art cabinet, sat down at the kitchen table and proceeded to change the old stocking by crossing out the name "Chloe" and writing the name "Chris".

I could have let Alexis make a new stocking for Chris, but I needed to do this for me.  I need to do things for Chris to show him I am moving on.  I don't know if Chris feels what it means for me to cross out the name "Chloe", I don't know if he realizes the significance for me, but I know the importance.  I know where I was last year when Chris told me he was transgender.  I know the mountain of obstacles and valleys of emotions I have gone through this last year to get to this point of open and easy acceptance of this thing that has frightened and battled with me so much.  I know that we have many miles left on this journey, but we have all come a long way and my crossing off the name "Chloe" on this stocking says ... she is not who I see you as anymore.

I see you, Chris.  I see you ...

Doors Close and Doors Open

As a parent, you have to change so many things about the way you think.  I don't imagine this is necessarily as true for friends of a transgender individual, as all they really have to remind themselves is to call that person by a new name and new pronouns.  For me, because Chris is also a twin (twin girls), I have also had to remember to stop calling them by one of my favored endearments "the girls".  I remember as they were growing up I'd hear their friends refer to them as "the twins" but I never called them that; to me they were (when referring to the both of them) "the girls". "Where are the girls?"  "Have you talked to the girls?"  "I'm going to spend time with the girls."   "Tell the girls dinner is ready."

I now call them "the twins" or refer to them as Courtney and Chris.  But very often I forget and still refer to them as "the girls", as does many of my family, as we all got to where we would call them that.  When my son was very little and could not tell his sisters apart, he referred to them as "the Courtneys".  "Momma, where are the Courtneys?"

Just like is has been difficult to leave Chris's birth name, Chloe Nicole, behind, it is also difficult to leave behind this term of endearment.  But now when I say it, I catch myself making the mistake and I correct myself, but my mind almost always immediately flashes on a stream of memories that consists of so many years of when they were ... the girls.  My girls.

You give up a lot of things in life you don't necessarily want to - like a house you loved living in but had to sell.  Like a marriage that just didn't work out.  Like friends you grew apart from.  Like a hobby you enjoyed but simply took up too much of your time.  I've had to give up, not just one name with Chris, but 3 names.  Chloe.  The girls.  My daughter.

Fortunately, each of the names I have had to give up have been replaced.  By Chris.  By the twins.  By my son.  But the old names will never be forgotten.  Not by me.  It's like we are all now living another life with somewhat of a different person; a person different than who I thought she would be, thought they would be.

That's okay.  We are all slowly moving on and at least we are all living.  And ... I still have all the memories.  Doors close and doors open ...

What a Difference a Year Can Make

I began wrapping Christmas presents today, mostly those we are giving to our kids.  I know last year, when I wrote the tags for Chris's presents I labeled them to Chloe.  That wasn't the case today.  The presents I bought for Chris I labeled to Chris.  Strangely, it didn't bother me.  I didn't hesitate when I wrote his name; I just wrote it on the tags and placed those presents under the tree like I have done many Christmas' before.

It was just after Christmas last year that Chloe left this letter for me and her father:

Mom (and Dad, if you're reading this),

I love you.  I could not have asked for better parents.  It is because of you that I am everything and have everything that I have today.  You always taught me with love and compassion, you taught me right from wrong, you taught me to be proud and most of all you taught me to be myself.  You could not possibly have raised me better.

I have struggled with this for some time, it's hard to communicate exactly what I feel about myself.  I have felt uneasy with my identity, specifically my gender, for several years now.  It has weighted on me, most days the dysphoria being unbearable.  You know when you have a feeling in the pit of your stomach about something, and you can't quite explain it, but you know something is just ... off?  That is the closest I can get to explaining how wrong it feels for me to be seen as, referred to, and recognized as female.  These feelings have weighed on me, causing anxiety and depression to the point that I feel as if I do not make this change I will not be able to continue living like this.  I need to be me, the person I feel like I am on the inside.  That may seem dramatic, but it's true.  I have put off this decision as long as I could, but now it's frankly a matter of life and death.  Living as something/someone you don't identify as is no way to live.

I know how difficult it has been having two gay daughters and you've been so supportive and come so far.  I hate to throw another "curve ball" your way.  However, I will not apologize for who I am.  I know it's not something you're familiar with and it's scary.  Trust me, it scares me too.  But if I could be happy and okay as I am, trust me, I would be.  This is going to be a long and difficult road for me, but I deserve to live my one life as who I was meant to be, and I hope you can learn to accept and support it.

I have started socially transitioning, going by male pronouns, going by my chosen male name (Chris - Christopher Nicholas), and speaking to my therapist has helped me by speaking with an unbiased individual about all of this and getting me one step closer to physically transitioning come the New Year.  I am going to look at starting hormones.  In the meantime, I ask that you try to see me and accept me as a boy.  If calling me Chris is too hard at first, please try using male or at least gender neutral pronouns.  If that is too hard at first then I merely ask that you stop referring to me as she/her and "daughter".

I love you both so much and I always want to make you proud.  I don't want this to be hard on you.  I want us to have an open line of communication.  I will answer any of your questions that I can, provide any articles or information you desire.  I know I will have to speak to you more in depth, as well as to Billy, Alexis and the rest of the family and friends when the time comes.  I want you to know that none of this is a reflection on you both as parents, on the contrary, because you are such incredible parents is why I have the strength and courage to do this for myself.

I wanted to write you this as a letter because I wanted to be able to formulate my thoughts and because I knew it would be difficult for me to talk about at first.  I also wanted to give you both time to process before you respond, in whatever form you choose.

I love you both more than words can say.  I hope you can learn to love me as your son the way you've always loved me as your daughter.

On December 29th of last year, several days after I had read this letter from Chloe, I sat down and wrote a long letter myself.  I'm not going to recite it here, as it was lengthy and rambled quite a bit, but the gist of that letter was telling Chloe that I loved her, no matter what, but that I could not call her by a new name or easily support or accept what she wanted or was doing.  I never sent that letter to New York.  As a matter of fact, I didn't speak to Chloe for many days, and when I did I was filled with fear and sadness and anger that lasted many, many months.

We are now a year later and ... I wrapped presents today and the ones meant for my first born child I tagged to ... Chris.

We have all come a long way in the last year, Chris most of all, of course, but I have too.  Chris seems very happy with the changes he's making to ensure his happiness.  I'm happy because he is happy ...

The Price of Happiness

You find yourself sometimes in life trying to spend money you do not have.  You go to use a debit card at a store and the transaction does not go through because you do not have enough money in your account.  You become embarrassed and scramble to find another card in your wallet that you can use to cover the transaction so you won't be forced to admit you do not have the money or abandon your purchase and walk away.  Sometimes you don't even really need the things you are trying to buy, but you will still pay with a credit card if you have it, simply to avoid the embarrassment.

People have asked me, "What if Chris changes his mind?  Can he go back?"  And they've also, innocently offered, "Well, maybe he'll change his mind.  Maybe it's just a phase."

This is not a purchase he does not need.  This is a basket of groceries he can not afford, but he has to have them.  It's hard to understand the urgency of needing a thing so badly and then trying to rally the support and guidance you need to ensure a safe and accurate road to success.  Could Chris change his mind?  Of course.  Could he go backwards from where he is right now - from where he will be once he goes through with top surgery and then maybe even bottom surgery in the future?  Of course.  Is that something he has worked into his plan? I don't believe so.  I don't believe Chris would ever go back to an identity that, for whatever reasons, tortured him.  He will and has to find a way to rally all the support and finances and courage to continue this journey to the end.

I said to a friend today that our denying acceptance is the same as our denying joy to our transgender children.  There are few times in life where we would consciously deny our children joy, yet, we, as mothers, as parents, resist acceptance of this with almost everything we have inside of us.  It is such a battle I have had with myself - the line between accepting and approval.  Accepting easily, early on, was not a possibility.  No matter how many people urge you to be at peace with the inevitable, urge you to accept, there was no way to easily reconcile all the worries and anger and confusion into some simple idea that things were going to be okay - for me or for Chris.  It has taken time - months - to work through the battle I have had with myself to where I finally came to a point of acceptance.  I know almost the exact moment when I gave in to myself - when I chose acceptance over my own desires and fears.  Approval came quickly after that moment of acceptance, because once I committed to allowing this change (in Chris's life and in my life) then I had to offer my approval or the acceptance would mean nothing.  I say "allowing" because that is what you do - you concede.

Were these conscious decisions on my part?  Yes.  I have said it before in previous posts I've written here.  It's a matter of laying yourself down for your child.  Laying down every worry and fear and belief and resistance to the point that you are putting all of theirs above any of your own, so they will survive in the only way they believe and know they can.  When I began to really hear and see that Chris's existence, his survival, his happiness depended so much on my acceptance and approval, it was then that I laid myself down for him.  The journey that got me to that point was like standing in that line, not having the money to pay and searching my wallet for a card - any card - that I had that would pay for this purchase.   I knew I would find a card at some point.  It took me a while because, like so many of us mothers, I was looking for the card that would save Chloe and there was none. When I finally stopped looking for a card to save Chloe and found the card that was meant to save Chris ... it also saved me.

Smiles Can Disguise Sadness

We had Thanksgiving together; my mother, my sister and her husband, my brother and his family, my nephew and his family, all of my family.  There were about 18 of us in my house. After Thanksgiving, Chris posted some pictures on Facebook that he had taken.  I noticed there was a comment on the post from my mother saying, "Thanks, Chris.  I love all the pictures."

She called him Chris.

I noticed.  I also know that it was intentional on her part, as she could just as easily said, "Thank you, sweetie," like she often does when trying to figure out what to call him when she is finding it so difficult to call him by his new name.

I call him Chris most often now.  It is only when I occasionally slip that I call him Chloe.  It doesn't hurt as much anymore and there isn't angry resistance like there was several months ago, but there is still a part of my brain that remembers the girl I knew.  A part of my brain that forgets where we are and what Chris is going through.  It's like everything you allow time to heal or destroy.  Given enough time and your heart and mind adjusts.  I have often said that I don't think I will ever let Chloe go, but now I know that is not true.  I am letting her go, day by day.  I am allowing Chris to take her place because his presence and his life is more important and more powerful than any dreams I had, any hopes I had, any beliefs I had ... for Chloe.

My mother said his name.  She gave that to him to make him stronger, just as I have done.  We are not your normal, "traditional" family, that's for sure, but, what I know about this family is that Chris being transgender or any of my children being gay will not destroy any of us.  I am watching, experiencing and learning how we are all growing stronger, maybe because we are all being forced to travel this road with Chris.  I say "forced" because that is the truth of it; we have no other choice. Each day that passes and Chris grows more into himself, Chloe vanishes more and more into distant memories.

I was looking at this picture the other day of Chloe from her first birthday.  She was smiling and perfectly posed like a porcelain doll.  I stood and stared at that beautiful photo for a long time.  I caught myself trying to find Chris in the face and eyes of the baby I had named Chloe Nicole.  I never saw Chris in that baby's face.  Maybe because I didn't want to.  Maybe because Chris was not there yet.  Maybe because there was a smile on Chloe's face and a smile can easily disguise sadness.

My mother said his name.  We are all growing stronger so we can help Chris wash the sadness away ...