I Might Lose My Way ...

Since Chris has moved back to Texas from New York about six weeks ago, I have had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with him.  In some ways, it has not been any different than all the times I spent with him over the years; before he was Chris.  Now, however, I am acutely aware that Chloe is gone, Chris is very prominent, and I am somehow more on the other side of fear and sadness and in a new place where many new emotions and experiences surround me.

You go through so many days where you have to make so many choices about this thing.  You have to make choices for yourself, for your family, for friends, for your child.  The hardest choice of all was in the beginning (for me, 10 months ago) - during the first several months when you have to decide if you will and then how you will accept this thing that will change your life from how you had always known it and how you believed it would be.  It was back in May that I told my husband, "Our daughter is now a boy.  Call him Chris, not Chloe.  If you have the strength for this, then I have the strength for this."  The truth was ... I know now ... I was the one who had to find the strength because I was the one who would lead so many others to acceptance - even my husband.

You do not know how strong you are until God gives you a thing strong than you are.  I say this to myself all the time.  I have spent many, many days and months mourning the loss of Chloe.  It's like death - like someone came to me one day and said, "I'm going to take her away from you, but in her place I will give you this other child."  That is how it feels to be the mother of a transgender child.  If that were to, in fact, happen to any mother with any of her children, she would be devastated and angry and sad and rebellious and frightened - all, emotions that are very difficult to deal with and reconcile.  People constantly have tried to tell me that I am not losing my child.  The truth is - I have not lost my child, but I have had to say goodbye to Chloe.  Saying goodbye is never easy - especially when you are not the one walking away.

There were many moments when I thought about walking away.  I don't think about that anymore, but when I did, it was because I was overwhelmed - devastated, angry, sad, rebellious and frightened - all, emotions that are very difficult to deal with and reconcile.  As difficult as this journey is for a transgender child, it is also enormously difficult for their mothers, their fathers, their parents and family and friends.  Some will handle it with more grace than I have.  All I know is ... I give myself enormous credit for standing back up after every time I have fallen on this journey.  I've done that for myself, for my family, for my friends, but most of all I have done that for Chris.  But do not believe, for one moment, that my life through this journey does not matter or count or mean anything.  If I do not find a way to survive this journey, day to day and week to week and through every change and every obstacle that threatens to knock me back down to my knees ... there are others who might not survive it, as well.  It's important that I find peace, for Chris' sake.  It's important that I find peace, for my sake.  Someone said to me not long ago, "You're being selfish.  You are putting your child's needs behind your own here, and for what? Because you feel like you're losing a daughter?"  This person went on to say, "Move on."

Come into my house, take away my girl child and leave me with a boy child and then tell me to accept it and move on.   Only a crazy person would believe a mother could and would easily be able to do that ...

I am moving on, but not one minute before I have had what I feel is adequate amount of time for me to say goodbye to Chloe.  I may never completely say goodbye to her, I don't know.  I have and continue to support and embrace Chris - more completely and more easily everyday.  I am doing that with the love I have for my child - for Chris and for Chloe.  I, more than anyone, know that the soul of my child has not changed and that what is on the outside is not as important as what is on the inside.  It is not Chris' appearance that I struggle with - it is the becoming comfortable with his new identity.

I worked in a corporate environment for many years before I chose to quit and stay home with my children 23 years ago.  I distinctly remember how difficult the first year was; adjusting to my new life out of the workforce.  I remember telling people that I struggled with the adjustment because my job was so much a part of my identity and when it was gone I had to redefine who I thought I was.  That is exactly the same way it has felt traveling this road with Chris - knowing things as one way for a long time and identifying myself for 23 years as Chloe's mother, but then waking up one day and finding that Chloe will be gone and I am now the mother to Chris.

My advice to people who do not have children is to be very careful when trying to advise those of us that do in how to raise them.  My advice to those who do not have gay or transgender children is to be very careful when trying to advise those of us that do in how to deal with it.  My advice to parents or mothers who are traveling a similar journey with a child who is transgender, like I am, is ... do the best you can for your child and make sure you care for yourself, as well, through the process.  The truth of the matter is that no one can make you get up if you don't want to, but you have to get up and go on, you have to find a way to survive this struggle to the point where you are stronger than your worries or fears or sadness or anger.  You have to survive for your child.  You have to get up ...