Her Head Was Bowed

It was a couple of days ago.  I had a moment of sheer panic.  I kept telling myself I couldn't do it - I couldn't be there when Chris has his surgery - I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that it was finally going to happen.  I know how excited, and nervous, Chris is, but I am also nervous.  I feel confident with the surgeon he has chosen, as I believe Chris has done his research about this doctor, and I believe the surgery will go well; it's not that.  And in so many ways I am so happy for Chris to finally be at the point where he is changing this thing about himself that is a great source of his dysphoria.  I am confident Chris is making the right choice for him and his life.  I was just scared for me.

When I was panicked I reminded myself of the fact that this surgery, this event that is so very important in Chris's life, would also be an event to represent hope and promise of a New Year.  2016 has been a very difficult and trying year for me and our family.  Because I believe Chris needs this surgery to secure his happiness, I have to believe it is meant to be and because it will occur next week, at the very beginning of 2017, I have to believe it is not only an event that will positively change Chris's life but will also positively change mine.

Over Thanksgiving and then again over Christmas we watched old videos of when the kids were younger.  Maybe it was seeing Chris as a baby, as a little girl, that forced my mind to ponder feelings I have been trying very hard to dismiss or leave behind.  When we watched the videos we laughed a lot and I did not find myself sad or mourning, but I have to imagine that it must have been seeing those images of Chris as Chloe that triggered emotions I believed I had concurred.

I am supportive of Chris and want and need to be there for his surgery.  I am not sad and I am not panicked, now.  I think I have to forgive myself for this moment of wonder, this moment of fear, this moment of worry.  I'm strong and caring, but there is a part of me that holds on to the past so tightly that I'm not sure if anything will ever truly sever that grip, even though I have done my very best to let go of what I thought would be, of what I knew to be, of what I wanted.

I said earlier that I was scared for me.  So much of this journey has illuminated the fears I have had for myself.  Fears that, in the very early months, crippled me.  I spent a long time reconciling those fears, and I did the same with this fear a few days ago.  I tried to determine what exactly I was so panicked about.  Was it the realization that, in some ways, I had been dwelling in denial?  I think it was.  This thing is really so big that in order to sometimes deal with it I believe I have built a wall that protects me from the impact certain stages of this journey might or could potentially emotionally cripple me, again.  I think I have certainly become accepting and supportive, truly, but I also think that I am still afraid.

I do not write this post to cast doubt or question anything.  I simply write it to document the reality of a moment in this journey.  A moment when I, the mother of this child, came face to face with the past and the present, with memories and with reality, with me and with him, again.

Alexis painted Chris a picture for Christmas.  It was a portrait of Chris face to face with Chloe and he was kissing her forehead.   Chloe had her hands over her eyes.  Chris was strong in the painting and Chloe was smaller, not sad, but her head was bowed, maybe in reverence.  Because Chris will have his surgery next week, I interpreted the painting as Chris saying good-bye to Chloe, but I think I was wrong; Chloe isn't going anywhere.  I think Alexis is wiser than me and far more perceptive.  I began to think that the painting was Chris thanking Chloe with the kiss.  I think the painting was a gift for Chris but also gifted me, as I am able to appreciate, through Alexis' eyes and through Chris's life what was really meant to be ... even if it often frightens me.

I have very often bowed my own head.  In prayer.  In tears.  In solitude.  I stand firmly by Chloe now ... bowing my head in reverence to Chris ...

God, Take Me To Him ...

How can you be a mother of a child who is going to have top surgery in less than three weeks and never have talked to that child about their surgery?

I am that mother.

I am a good mother.

I am a mother that is supportive of this child, but somewhere in the scheme of all that is going on with this child's life, I have neglected to find the time, or courage, or words to sit and discuss this life changing event with him. I am a mother who has not yet had any sort of discussion with this child about this thing that is so important in his life, and so important in my life.

How is this possible?  When I am so close to this child and he is so close to me.  Where in the closeness that we meet is that moment when we failed to find each other?

I don't know how to talk about this thing.

Chris.

Chris.

Tell me how to to talk about this with you.  Please.

Maybe it is not up to me to find the words.  Maybe it is up to him.

God,

Take me to him ...

God,

Forgive me ...

So Many Damn Wrongs ...

It's night again and so I think.

Too much.

About things I need to save and things I need to get rid of.

About what I did and what I did not do.

About what needs done.

About saving and losing.

So much about saving and losing, lately.

I write some of the words down ... maybe so they will leave me, but then I read them and there they are again ...

with me

saved forever

not in thoughts

but in words

written

so I write more ...

I've written a million words

and not nearly enough

to rid thoughts
to save my mind
for anything, really

other than ramblings of a mind that seldom settles

a mind that wakes at night

pondering always what to save and what to get rid of

I walked by a bathroom at Target today
I wondered who was allowed in and who was not
Then I remembered
Everyone is allowed in

Tonight I ponder what to do if Texas passes laws, as it suggests it will, that will harm people
Laws of unfairness
Laws dividing so many people
Laws I fear will harm my child
What will I do?

I think it is good I write so many words
I will write someone
Maybe everyone
About what and who needs to be saved and what needs to be rid of

Maybe my words will be heard, maybe not
but ...
I will write them
until I am heard

It's a ridiculous fight - this fight over bathrooms
but my child has rights
and if others insist on attempting to trample the rights of my child and those like him
then I will stand by him
on the right side
of this harmful battle
that refuses him his freedom.

I never knew I would find myself fighting so many damn wrongs in this world.  I never knew I was bringing my children into a world filled with so much hatred ...

#ChrisILoveYou

The Damn Darkness

It's at night, like this, when I think.  When I wonder.  When I realize.

When sadness finds me.

I don't want sadness to ever find me or anyone I love, but it does, especially in the darkness of the night.

It creeps.

It slides.

It is like a bug that walks quietly, silently along the baseboard of a room and then slowly begins to climb the wall.

Black and big.  So many legs.

And you see it.

It jolts you.

The bug.

The sadness.

And then you run and search for a shoe.

And you smash it.

The black bug.

The sadness.

I'm sorry, Chris.

You are not the bug or the sadness, but you are that part of me that creeps in the darkness ...

sometimes

That part of me ...

that wonders

That tiny part of me

that lingers

in the damn darkness ...

I want and wish only for your light

I fight for your light ...

I fight the bugs and myself and all darkness so all I see

is your light

Know this

They're MY People, Too

Through my journey with Chris, and through the community he is a part of and I am now a part of, I have had the privilege to meet many LGBTQ+ individuals over the past several years.

The other day, Chris and Courtney traveled from Austin to San Antonio to visit a good friend of theirs who had top-surgery.  Their friend was only 2 days post-op, but felt good and so Chris and Courtney took her to lunch.  They called and invited me to join them.

I talked to their friend a bit about her surgery, interested to know what she had had done and how she was doing, and she explained that she had her breast tissue removed and a bit of reconstruction.  She showed me before and after photos and she looked amazing.  What is and was interesting about all of this, to me, in addition to being able to talk, first hand, to an individual who had undergone top surgery, is that this individual still uses female pronouns and yet she had her breasts removed and is clearly on a journey - maybe gender fluid, maybe transgender - I'm not sure, exactly, but I support her decision to make changes to her body that make her feel more comfortable in her own skin.

I have learned a lot of things about LGBTQ+ people and their community, but there are so many things I have not learned or do not yet understand, and I am one of those people that is involved in it, to some degree.  The ability for those who are not intimately involved, to understand, must be quite difficult and even strange, I imagine.  It was all difficult and strange to me not too long ago.

I've heard people tell Chris that he's lucky to have the support of his family and friends, as so many transgender individuals travel his same sort of journey with far less support, if any.  I was proud of Chris and Courtney for visiting their friend, for supporting this individual, and I was proud they included me at lunch.  And I'm happy I was able to meet their friend and be considered one of the people that recognizes and supports her progress on her journey of becoming more of who she needs and is meant to be.  I'm also glad to say that her parents were with her for the surgery and she seems to be further along on her way to successfully transitioning.  I'm not exactly clear on where her journey is leading her, but it is not for me to question or even understand.  I feel my place in her journey is at Chris and Courtney's side when they want me there, as her friend, as her advocate, as her people.  Everyone deserves to have people on their side and beside them.

I never knew when we started this journey with Chris (and Courtney) that it would lead to them introducing so many of their people into my life (gay, lesbian, transgender, etc.), but they have, and I am lucky.  My life is so much richer knowing they are now my people, too ...

Soar High, Chris

I don't walk fine lines.  I'm either on one side or another.  It is rare to find me wavering on some subject that I have not figured my position on.  Maybe that comes with age.  Maybe when you get to be older you just know what you believe or think about things.  I do, anyway.  I know what I think about most all things.

I know what I think about my children.  I know what I want for them.  I know pretty much what they want for themselves. Sometimes we clash on what we want.  Most often, I give in, not because I am weak or stupid, but because I depend on my children to know their own minds and their own hopes and wishes and I give in so that they can follow their own hearts - not mine.

It takes strength to do this - to not make your child feel or know or want the thing you want more than the thing they want or need for themselves.  It takes an enormous amount of strength to give your child power over their own life.

That is what I have given Chris - power over his own life.  Power that was not mine.  Power to know what he believes he needs to do to make himself happy.  What better thing can you give your child than power over their own life - give them the assurance that you know they know who they are and what they are and what they want and what they need, more than you, more than anyone?

It takes an enormous amount of strength to let them live.

My greatest fear, with every one of my children, is that they would one day leave me and never come back again.  My greatest gift to them, I have learned, and believe, is letting them go - letting them go, knowing that I trust and love them and will always be here if they need a place to land.  Need a place to be.  Need me.

I need Chris, all of my children, to be able to live their lives with hope and grace and direction and determination.  I need Chris, all of my children, to know I trust that I have helped them to fly and I need them to do their very best to soar high.  But if they need to land ... I need them to know I am always going to be on the ground waving them in ...

Soar high, Chris.  Take the power you have of your own life to make it YOUR life.  I'll be here.  I am here.

Self-Love

When I started to read this post Chris had written on his Facebook page, I was nervous, because he began with some feelings he had/has about me and I didn't know where the story might go.  But as read further, I became proud, as he made me realize that so many of the things I am often criticized for are also things he receives criticism for, but through me, and through power he has achieved on his own, he has come to claim his worth.

This is a portion of that post Chris wrote:

"My mother loves to take selfies, and I remember the moment that I stopped feeling embarrassed by the fact that she does so. It was incredibly hypocritical for me to feel ashamed that she wanted to show off her body, her face, her outfits because if you’ve ever come across my instagram feed you’ll see almost nothing but selfies. But it occurred to me, that my mom, a mother of 4, 50 years old was proud of how she looked, and was demanding to be seen as what she is — a beautiful woman (among a million other brilliant qualities).

She deserved to be told that, to get those likes and comments, even if they were from strangers. If she wanted to own her image, her space in this world and in cyberspace, and she felt good... who was I or anyone to stop her from feeling GOOD about herself? I instead realized I was proud of my mom for feeling good about herself, for owning her sexuality, and for loving herself. My mother taught me a lot in this lifetime, one of the most important lessons being the importance of self-love."

I responded with a comment:

"Making me cry, Chris Rhodes. I love you! I'm not the greatest example for anyone but I sure did something right raising my kids because all of you are confident, loving and care a lot about your dad and I, our family, your friends and so much more. And ... life is too short not to spend some amount of that time loving and believing in yourself! I want all you kids to be able to look in the mirror or at a picture of yourself and be able to think, "You're beautiful, you're important and I love you. I will take care of you because you are the person I depend on to make me the happiest." 

Self-love is something we all struggle with from time to time, me included.  Self-love becomes and is more of a struggle for individuals with identity or gender dysphoria, obviously.  Can you imagine spending your whole life or even portions of your life, looking in the mirror and not identifying with the face and/or body you see - over and over and over and over and over again?  Can you imagine that you might develop a hatred for that image, that person?  I'm like so many other people that wished or hoped something about my image or reflection looked differently, and there have been many times when I felt disappointment when seeing my image, but I have always loved the face and body God gave me, while I may not have always taken as good care of it as I should have.  What I have experienced in my life is not dysphoria, and truthfully, I believe, unless you are an individual who has or does live with dysphoria then we have really no clue what it must be like to live and survive with such a sadness, disappointment and confusion.

Chris is and has been dealing with his dysphoria for a long time - to the point, now, that he knows what he must do to fix the problem.  He is making and taking all the steps he has to to make sure his reflection in the mirror matches the person he feels like and identifies with on the inside.  I'm proud to be his mother and I'm proud to be a person in his life that helped him know the importance of self-love, because, like I said in my comment to his post, that person in the mirror is the person you should always depend on to make you the happiest.

As for me, I've had many people gravitate to me in my life - people saying, "You have such a great feeling about you - you are someone I wanted to meet."  My response has often been, "You think I am special because I think I am special."  It's not like I go out into the world believing I will draw people to me or knowing it will happen, it just does, and I have come to realize that they want to be near me because they want to be a part of my light.  I pride myself on nurturing my own light, every day, and I simply love sharing it with others.  There is nothing wrong with that.  It's called self-love.  

Our first love and last love is ... self-love <3

This Journey is a Mountain

I call him Chris all the time.  Occasionally I will slip and say "she", but not often.  I have called him "my son" twice, but only in writing.  It's still a difficult thing for me to do, even though I hear Chris's siblings refer to him as their brother and it doesn't seem all that strange to me, while I do notice when they refer to him this way.

I often refer to this journey I am on with Chris as climbing a mountain, and that is often the way it feels - following behind Chris, navigating each step up a steep slope and trying your best not stumble for fear you might tumble all the way to the bottom - unsure that if that were to happen if you'd get back up and drudge up that mountain again or just sit down and give up.  There were many times over the past many months that I considered giving up, but I never did and even though I often lag way behind Chris on his journey, I have him in sight right in front me, and that's something, because this child has hoped that his family would support and believe in him, but I know very well that if we had not, he would have gone on up the mountain alone if that's what it meant to reach the top.

We talk about Chris's top surgery now pretty easily.  I haven't spoken to Chris in detail about his fears, though - maybe it's because I'm hoping he has none - maybe it's because I think that if I do not mention such things then he will believe I am not afraid and then that will help him not to be afraid - maybe I am afraid to hear his fears.  Because Chris is transgender, and I follow Chris and some of his transgender friends on Instagram, lots of pictures pop up in my Instagram feed of many transgender people (if you "like" a lot of cat pictures, a lot of cats show up in your feed - haha) and many of those pictures are of FTM (female to male) individuals who post pictures of their before and after surgery photos, so ... I know what it looks like - the surgery, but I do not know what it must feel like - before or after, for these people.

I need to talk to Chris about his fears and his hopes.  I need to make a point to do that and not just assume he is okay with all of it; not needing to talk about it.  I need to catch up to Chris on this mountain and make him stop long enough to tell me how he feels and, also ... I need get over my fear of calling him my son ...

He Inspires So Many People ...

Chris is scheduled to have top surgery in January. Because this surgery is expensive, Chris has a fundraising account where he is trying to raise the funds on YouCaring ((https://www.youcaring.com/chris-rhodes-616745).  I've been sort of following the progress of his fundraiser to see if he is near reaching his goal of $5000.00 and so far it is going well.  When people make a donation for him, they are allowed to leave comments with their donation and I have spent this evening reading through the comments of the many people who have sent him money for his surgery.  Here are a few examples of the sort of comments he receives:

"You've always been so awesome and inspiring! Even back in high school when we were all incredibly awkward. I wish you the best Chris!"

"Chris, you inspire me every day and im so happy for you. Im glad that i can help you achieve your next goal, i hope one day i can be as cool as you are. I LOVE YOU BRO!"

"Ive recently been struggling with my gender identity and debating the possibility of transitioning. Mostly fearing that the people in my life would not be able to accept me. Finding your blog was one of my biggest inspirations you showed me that I should be proud of who I amand shouldn't be afraid to hide it. I just wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart. It's not much because of my broke college student status, but I hope that it helps at least a little."

"You are a big inspiration to me and many other people. I hope you meet your goal and are able to live freely and comfortably in your body. You have inspired me to come out and embrace who I really am and I cannot thank you enough for that. Keep on doing your thing!"

"You make me want to be a better person. Keep inspiring people. The world needs more people like you"

"Hey Chris! Good luck with your surgery. Thank you and your sister for being awesome role models for the lgbtqa+ community and human beings in general. Much love!"

"Hey you, I hope this helps! Thank you for all the help and hope you bring to our community!"

"I know I'll need help with the cost of my own surgery one day. I don't have much to offer, but you're truly inspiring. Keep doing what you do, Chris."

"Thanks for being such a great friend to my son Sage. Good luck on your fundraiser! By the way, you look fantastic, Chris!"

"Hey Chris! I've been following your transition since before you started your medical transition, and you've been a huge inspiration in my life in who I strive to be. This is all I can scrape up right now as I am also trying to save money for my surgery, but I'll be back here and there to donate a bit more. Good luck, man. So happy for you."

"Hey Christopher! Here's a little something to help you reach your goal. I was so touched by you and your sister's outreach to the Trans community to help guys with their gender confirming surgeries by donating part of the sales to help them since you started in 2014. Congratulations you will get there bro! Thanks also for all you do!"

"The man that inspired me to finally come out to my family and be open and proud of who I am as a trans guy. I'll donate as much as I can every pay check to help."


I was so touched by the amount of people who say that Chris has inspired them.  I know that Chris and Courtney do a lot to help the LGBTQ community through their company FLAVNT Streetwear, and Courtney is mentioned in many comments, as well, but I am coming to see and learn that Chris, himself, has used his life, his company, his social media exposure to help guide and positively influence other transgender individuals on their own journeys.  

I'm so proud to see the good things Chris is doing to help other people.  My parents taught me to treat people the way you want to be treated and I tried to teach each of my children this same lesson.  Sometimes you will receive hate for your success or for your accomplishments, but keep your eye on the path in front of you and your good deeds and hard work will pay off.  I know that Chris and Courtney, both, have been the victims of hate many times on social media (especially and primarily, sometimes, from the very community they support) but they continue to stay true to who they are, push forward with their ideas and projects for their company and their perseverance through it all has proven over and over again that they will succeed, survive and flourish, with many, many good people behind them.

I'm very proud to be the mother of a child that people look to for inspiration.  I'm very proud Chris is my son.

This Transgender Child Is a Part of Me ...

Can you imagine?

Can you imagine being the mother of so many children who depend on you?

Can you imagine being the mother of gay children?

Of a transgender child?

I told some people tonight ... I have twins ... I said they were gay twins ... twins who are gay ... and then ... I said, "One is transgender."

You do this.

You reach a point where you tell people without shame or fear or care.  You tell them because it is your child's reality - it is your reality - it is what you and your children are about.

I never feared what people thought, yet it has and was and is a difficult thing to divulge.  My child is transgender.  It is difficult because you do not know how the world will perceive this thing.

Most people don't ask questions.  Maybe it is because I offer the information easily.  I hope that is the case.  I hope they hear my words -  know what it means just by hearing my words.  They do not need to feel that it is anything more than what I feel it is, yet you have to know that they wonder.

I have no shame.  I have no fear.  In many ways, I have pride I never imagined I would feel.

I told people tonight that I have a transgender child and ... I am at ease with them knowing this amazing child is a part of me ...

Stones and Ropes ...

I don't climb mountains.

I don't even hike tall hills.

I imagine that I could do both of these things, if I had to.

At the top of a hill or a mountain, I would be winded.  I would be exhausted.  I would be bent over, catching my breath.  Then ... I imagine ... I would stand at some point and see the view.  And breathe. And then smile.  And then raise my hands up to the sky and twirl around because I finally reached the top of the thing that tried so very hard to defeat me.

That is what it must be like to be searching for who you are meant to be.  A climb.  A climb to the very top of a thing that tries so hard to defeat you.

I think that is where Chris is now ... on the top of a mountain that tried to defeat him ... but was not strong enough to avalanche the hopes in his life ...

I was one of the hopes.

Many are the hopes.

Some ... throw ropes ...

Some throw stones ...

I threw stones and ropes and stones and ropes ...

Now ... I climbed that mountain and stand at the top, raising my hands to the sky and I twirl and twirl and twirl with hope and energy and so much momentum that I hope that Chris sees me trying my very best to deflect so many of the stones thrown at him.

This mountain did not defeat me.

This mountain did not defeat me for him ...

Mercury Retrograde ...

This year has been hell for my family; for a lot of people.  Some say that September was going to bring wrath for many because of (astronomy) Mercury Retrograde.  I don't have any idea what that really means, but I do know that September sucked and October needs to be a lot better.

Because of many personal/family issues going on, I haven't had much energy to devote to Chris's worries, as of late.  I know he has top surgery planned for January and is in the process of trying to raise the funds through crowd-funding (https://www.youcaring.com/chris-rhodes-616745).  I know the prospect of finally getting his surgery should be a happy time and not a stressful time.  I wish things were so different right now for all of us.

When we first learned of Chris being transgender, I remember adamantly telling my husband, "I don't know where he will get the money to pay for any surgeries, but we are NOT helping."  That was back when I didn't realize what it all really meant or where I would be, emotionally, a year out from making such a statement.  I don't like the idea of Chris removing his breasts, but I know that it is something he needs to do to survive in his own body.  Above all else, I need Chris to survive.

The other day, my youngest daughter, Alexis, asked me if she was going to be able to go to Dallas with me for Chris's top surgery - as it is scheduled on a Wednesday; a school day.  She begged me - saying "I want to be there.  I have to be there for Chris."  I conceded and said she could go, as I agree that she should be there if she wants to. She has never questioned Chris's transition, his being transgender or his surgery - all she has ever been is supportive and caring.  I take pride in raising these children who care so much about each other.

I am not a negative person.  There are times when I feel shattered just like everyone else, but for some reason God has given me a personality or an innate sense of primal survival that constantly enables me to grasp onto hope to pull me to my feet and move forward.  That is what we are all doing right now - hoping for the best and working hard to put so many pieces together; for our family, for our friends, for each other.  For Chris.

I have a hard time blaming a planet for chaos people create or experience in their lives, but maybe it is so.  If it is so, then there is hope, because Mercury will eventually move and hopefully take the chaos with it ...

Strength is Often the Only Choice

Other mothers have reached out to me since I have started this blog.  Recently, this mother said:

I am overwhelmed and confused but want to be supportive to my child. My daughter says she feels more gender fluid but prefers "him" and "his" pronouns and has expressed a desire for a binder. He is bullied at school by ignorant little brats and it is killing me and I am sure his spirit. I don't know what to do at this point to help him. I support him but there are times when I am just exhausted and feel helpless. Any tips, suggestions or advice is greatly appreciate!!

I know some of the feelings this mother expresses only too well.  Can you even imagine the fear and sadness and frustration this mother feels?  Can you even imagine the fear and sadness this child feels?

Is there a place in this world where people can be free to be who they want or need to be?  I do not know of such a place, yet, but this child and this mother are now in my world and the world of me and my children and I am going to do whatever I can to help her and her child work their way through this journey that is, not only difficult, but nearly impossible, sometimes, in our society as it is, to survive.

I gave this mother my phone number to contact me if she wants or needs to.  I am not her answer or anyone's answer, but I will do my best to help her pave some sort of path to solace, if I can.

The turmoil of this child is one thing.  The turmoil of this mother is another.  Only a child living this knows the struggles.  Only this child's mother knows the struggles.  Society and the world need to leave this child alone - leave this mother and family alone, to survive this struggle that is already difficult enough to survive without meanness or judgement.  But it is survivable.

Where in anything written or noted or pledged or documented does it give anyone the right to demean another person's spirit?  I want to hug this child.  I want to give this child a binder from FLAVNT Streetwear (www.flavnt.com/) - the company my twins own.  I want to tell this child and his mother, "Be brave.  Be strong.  Weather this journey, every single step of it, because if it leads to happiness for this child - and it will and it should - then it will be worth it."

Do not EVER allow anyone to destroy your spirit and do whatever it takes to make sure no one destroys the spirit of any of your children.  After all ... it's really all you have to ward off anything that can harm you.  It is the part of you that tells the world they have no right to define your worth or your destiny.  It is the part of you that God made the most powerful.

We - the mothers and family and friends and siblings and fathers of the children who are fighting so hard to find their place, make a place, demand this place for themselves in this world do not need anyone to condone or understand or love or accept, even.  All we need is for those who disapprove to move out of the way so those of us that do (or are trying) to understand and accept and condone and love can surround and help guide and support our transgender children or loved ones to a safe place. If you want to help, then you are welcome in our tribe, but if not ... move out of the way because we will walk over you and through you if that's what it takes to help protect our precious children's spirits from yours.

These are some of the things I want this mother to become at ease with in her journey, become an advocate for, become about.  The beginning is the hardest part.  I want her to reach the place that I have reached - the place where eventually all you care about is moving in sync with your transgender child to the point that you will do whatever it takes to be at ease with yourself so you and your child will survive the process.  And ... I want her and her child to not just survive, but to thrive.

This journey is a battle on so many levels and on many fields and with and between so many people, but battles are won or lost by choices.  This mother's child (and my child) is making one of, if not the most difficult choices of his life and one of the things I have learned on mine and Chris's journey is ... the choices I make, as his mother, can help or hinder him from winning his battle.  Chris needs to win.  They all need to win.

You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have ...

I Feared Leaving Her Behind

I started this blog in August of 2015.  I began writing it as a way to document my journey with Chris, a way to put my feelings and experiences to paper, and also a journal that I was considering turning into a book one day.  Over the course of the past year I have written 57 posts; stories about Chris and I.  Last month I began writing the book "Faces"; using all the entries from my blog as the meat of the book.  As I am retyping each blog story into the book I am reliving the emotions and events I wrote and I am simply amazed by how far Chris and I have come since those beginning days.

It's a metamorphoses, this journey.  The watching of a human being you love transform themselves from something they reject to something they desire or need to be.  The watching of yourself move from a fear-filled place to a place of acceptance and supportive.  A transition.  A transformation.  An evolution.  None of which can occur easily on anyone's part.  None of which can occur easily if the involved parties are unwilling or unable to allow change.  None of which can occur without strength or sense of direction.  None of which can occur, to a desirable place, without ... love.

I'm around Chris a lot these days, and I can not be around him without thoughts constantly still crossing my mind.

When we are in a public place and he wanders away, I wonder, "Is he using the men's restroom?"  I know he is, but I seldom witness him entering or emerging from any.  I still have a sense of fear for him.  A sense of awe.  A bit of anxiety for him and about this.

When someone refers to him as "Sir", I wonder, "Does that feel strange or right to him?  Does it make him happy?"  I know it must make him happy, as there is little confusion now and he is male passing, and that's the goal, after all.

I know FTM (female-to-male) transgender individuals wear packers and I often wonder, "How does it feel?  What does it look like?  How does it work?"

I sometimes hear Chris's voice from another room and I think, "His voice is growing so deep.  Will there come a day when I forget, altogether, what he used to sound like?"

When I started writing on this blog, documenting my feelings in the early months, I often said that I feared losing Chloe and that I feared I would never allow her to "die" or be taken away from me.  I honestly believed that there was something inside of me that would never let her go, and yet, in so many ways, it appears that she is gone.  I think, early on, I was afraid to let her go, even if it meant saving Chris, because I loved her so much, but also because I did not believe anything or anyone could replace her or be as special to me as she was and I did not want anything about her to change.  I did not want to believe there was anything wrong with the child I gave birth to and nurtured - the child I taught and raised - the child I thought was perfect.  What I have learned is that by allowing Chris to become who he needs to be, I did not have to leave Chloe behind, because it was and is the love I have for Chloe that enabled me to let Chris leave what he did not like about her behind.

I do not see Chris as Chloe anymore, nor do I have anger or sadness that he changed her.  The way it feels to me now is ... Chris did not like things about Chloe or see her the way I did, but he has taken all the very best parts of her to become Chris.  He does not look or sound like Chloe anymore, but she is still walking this journey with us.  Without Chloe's heart and strength, I do not believe Chris would be surviving and thriving and I do not believe if I allowed her to completely die or fade into some sad place that I would be able to walk this journey with Chris.  I'm not saying that I want Chloe back or that I am living with some belief that she is hidden or something.  What I am saying is that Chloe lives inside of Chris and I don't need her to be as she was to me, because I have all the pictures and memories of who she was, and now, because of my deep love for her, I am living and seeing who she was meant to be, in spite of me, in spite of everything.

Chris.

The Bear Behind Me

I've been filled with a lot of anxiety lately.  I'm not quite sure of the exact source, other than there has just been so many things that have gone wrong in our family over the past several months and just a lot of things going on, in general. Maybe it's just that I'm getting older by the day and don't handle things as easily as I did in past years.  I hate to think that that is the reason - I hate thinking about getting older, at all, but I am, and I feel the affects and fears of aging more often than I care to admit.

Chris has his top surgery scheduled; he will have it done in January.  I keep meaning to find the time to sit and really talk about the details of where it will happen and exactly when.  He has told me the doctor he will be using, but even that is not something we have discussed at length.  I think this is probably the core of my anxiety right now, while I go along as though I am dealing with the reality of it all.  I know he must be scared, and yet he seems confident and happy, and so I guess that is why I don't probe or push the discussion.  I know I need to, but it is only at this moment right now that I am really exploring my feelings about Chris having top surgery.  As with so much of what has occurred through the course of this past eighteen months of Chris's transition, I tend to push subjects away to some place behind some wall that keeps me from having to really deal with situations.  I become just involved enough to know what is going on, but not so much that I have to digest details or deal with unexpected emotions that might surface or potentially overwhelm me.

People tell me all the time that they appreciate how strong I seem.  If they only knew of how I have learned to mask my insecurities and fears behind my actions.  I go through a million motions that keep me in motion and offer actions that suggest support, involvement and sometimes even guidance, but beyond the motions are untouched subjects and unaddressed feelings and questions ... sleeping like some bear in a cave where no one is aware or can see.  I am a master wall-builder.  I learned it from the time I was really little when things seemed wrong in my world but I could never quite define why or how, and so I'd build walls to protect myself.  I believed, as a child, that there was something wrong in my world but there was nothing wrong with me.  Hence the walls ... to protect myself from real things that hurt me - and from perceived things I imagined could hurt me.

I'm going to find time to talk to Chris about his top surgery and other things I feel we need to discuss. Maybe then, some of the anxiety will lift if I let the bear out of the cave.  I can easily convince myself that strength is built on bricks and mortar of the walls I place between me and adversity, but my heart truly knows that strength comes when you allow those walls to crumble, because it's in those wall-crumbling moments that you are forced to face your fears head on.  And maybe the person I would be with the bear beside me, instead of behind me, would be more of what Chris needs to survive than the pretend me that offers support in disguise ...

The Story of Chris

I saw an old friend today I hadn't seen for a while.  We sat on her back patio, drank wine, talked a lot and laughed.  I'd missed her and plan on seeing more of her, because seeing her today reminded me of why I was so drawn to her when we met - we have a good time together and I love hearing about her life and she listens to mine.

We talked a lot about our kids, as they are all growing and going in many different directions.  We talked about our husbands and our parents and the lake, the ranch, the boats, the chores we both do that seem never ending.  We talked about getting older.  We talked about problems.  We talked about everything; so many things.  And then we talked about Chris.

I feel fortunate because this friend's daughter is a long-time friend of Chris and Courtney's and has remained a good friend to them through high school and college and to the present.  Through her daughter, my friend has heard and learned things about Chris's journey, to some degree, but I filled her in on details she was unaware of and how Chris's journey has affected me.  At one point I became emotional and cried and she asked me if I was okay with all of it.  I told her I was now, but when I tell of how it was for me in the beginning, I still sometimes grow emotional because it was such a difficult time for me, but I am past those hard times now and supportive and happy for Chris.  She then said to me, "I just want you to know that I admire how you've handled it all.  I don't know what I would have done or how I would have handled such a situation myself."

I can't honestly say that I know exactly how my friend feels about all Chris is going through, but she was kind and open and supportive and I think she is confused about a lot of it, as many people can be, but she asked questions and she listened to details and answers respectfully and compassionately.

When I was done telling her all I could think to tell her, I realized how much I needed to tell the story I know she had been waiting to hear for a long time - from me.  It's not the same story I tell everyone or just anyone, but I think that's maybe why I called her out of the blue, after a couple years of not being in touch - I think I needed for this good friend of mine to know our story - not for her, but for me.

I don't know how often, if ever, that friends or family wonder about us - wonder how we are all doing, but I imagine they believe, as most people would, that there are difficult issues and events and times you can go through with a child, and this must be one of the most difficult things a parent, a family, a child, a mother, could go through.  And they would be right.  I think I needed to see my friend because I have missed her tremendously, but I also think I needed to see her to give her the story and to let her see and hear that we are okay.

I did that today - with a good friend - the right person at the right time.  I feel relief.  Not because she now knows the truths and details and more answers, but because, sometimes, you just need to open every bit of yourself up and give another person ... your story.

My friend told me many of her stories today and I told her some of mine.  And then ... I gave to her the story of Chris ...

Love Begets Love?

Anger decides, for me, how I handle things, sometimes.

I have many conservative friends who believe many things differently than I do, yet we, somehow, manage to blend into each other's lives without chaos.  But ... it is becoming more difficult for me to maintain friendships with people who, too often or radically or cruelly, voice and demonstrate through their actions, their misinformed or ignorant or hate-filled opinions/ideas about gay and transgender people.  I have gone along for a while trying to offer the benefit of the doubt or intentional tolerance to some people, believing that everyone has the right to their ideas and opinions about such subjects, but it is becoming more and more difficult, as the lines are blurring now; not so easy to move for people.  I've become too conscious of the fact that I should not have to move lines in order to allow people to be near me or be near and around my family. I should not have to make attempts at making others more comfortable in their worlds just because they do not agree or understand ours.  Maybe it's my age.  Maybe my beliefs have become so strong when it comes to gay and transgender people that I have no tolerance for intolerance at all, anymore.

I am not moving lines anymore for people; I am pushing them away - even friends and family.  Those who feel the need to support and align themselves completely and outwardly with radical, "Christian" groups (or even Presidential candidates) who lash out, demonize, threaten, ridicule, judge and attempt to alienate and or segregate gay or transgender people - or any people.

I am pushing them away because we do not blend without chaos.

I am pushing them away because their hate is unhealthy for me and my family.

I am pushing them away to protect my gay and transgender children.

I am pushing them away because I hope that by losing us, by losing me, they might see that their hurtful and harmful beliefs create chaos that dissolves friendships and bonds, but also draws very defined and negative lines between them and good human beings.

I am pushing them away because I can and I will.

I am pushing them away because I have to choose a side, sometimes, and I choose my side.

In life there is black and white, up and down, forward and backward, questions and answers, top and bottom, dark and light ... right and wrong.

I am pushing them away because I decide what is right or wrong in my world and I will not allow "wrong" to shadow what I know to be "right".

I am pushing them away because their hate hurts and I don't know how to fix their hatred - not even with love.

I believe love always wins over hatred, but sometimes you have to be where love resides in order to keep your own heart from hating.  I push them way so I do not retaliate.

My mind tells me to not push people away.  Logic suggests to me that I should remain in the presence of even hate-filled people so that maybe I can influence them with my beliefs and love for things they disagree with, do not understand or refuse to accept.  I do that ... until I can no longer bear the scars they inflict on me or the people I love.  Then ... I push them away.

It is said that "Love begets love" but it is not always true.  Sometimes you have to eliminate those filled with hate so the things you love can grow stronger - and then, maybe, one day, you can return to that battlefield and face the hate with a purer heart and sweeter words for those that fan the flame of hated ...

The Kaleidoscope That is My Family

On this blog I write about my journey with Chris, but his journey involves a lot of people, including his siblings, Courtney, Billy and Alexis.  I seldom speak of them when writing my stories, as I do not feel right expressing their feelings or experiences, as I can not speak for them.  However, I can speak for myself as the mother to all of these children and I can acknowledge some of the strengths and struggles I have witnessed.

Courtney is Chris's identical twin sister and has been with Chris through every step and stage of his transition - been there physically and emotionally when I couldn't or wouldn't be.  I have come to learn that, in the beginning, Courtney struggled when Chris came out to her, for a short time, but it did not take long for Courtney to realize that her support of Chris was the only way to help her twin, not only survive, but thrive.  I know that if asked, Chris would say that Courtney was and is his biggest and strongest advocate, his very best friend and a huge reason he has come so far in finding himself. In the early days of my struggle with Chris being transgender, I often said and imagined that my fears and sadness and confusion must pale in comparison to what Courtney, his twin, must feel or be experiencing, but the truth is ... Courtney never seemed to have allowed her own fears or sadness or confusion (if there ever actually was any of those emotions) impact or define, in any way, her decision to rally beside and behind and in front of Chris.  Courtney was and remains one of the greatest factors in how and why I finally laid down myself for Chris.  I watched her do it with grace and kindness and selflessness.  I watched and learned, as quickly as I could, that, as much as I believed Chris being transgender was about me, it was not about me at all.  Or anyone.  It was and is about Chris.

Alexis is fourteen now and the youngest of our children.  Besides Courtney, she was the next in line to easily adapt and accept to the changes and to embrace who Chris needed to be.  She called him "Chris" from the moment he asked us to.  She never seemed to question why or how or when or what - she just simply accepted that Chloe would be Chris now and she prided herself, as she should, on her ability to recognize that this was a thing far bigger and far more important than herself or any idea that would suggest that it did not need to happen.  I have been deeply influenced by her, as well, as she reminds me, constantly, of what unconditional love looks and acts like.

Billy ... he was our only son, born five years after his twin sisters.  He has had the most difficult time with Chris transitioning.  He has been supportive, and I do not feel comfortable expressing any of his feelings for him, but I know that when he was born I wrote a poem that hung on the wall of his nursery for several years and one of the lines in that poem read, "In a world of ribbons and lace, in a world of little girls, I hope you find your place, my son."  When I wrote that poem there were only two girls in his world and there would come a third several years later.  It was never easy for Billy; the only boy in a house with so many girls - not so easy for him to find his place.  And then ... I believe he has felt he lost what space he thought he had found, by relinquishing some of that space now to Chris.  I do not know the depths of his anguish over this, but I believe it to be very real.

I could not have anticipated how the dynamics of our family, the changes of the dynamics, the dynamics of four siblings would or could or will affect each of my children.  I know that a family can spend certain amounts of time focusing on one problem, focusing on one person, focusing on surviving one thing, at times, in attempts at ensuring the success of one thing while unintentionally or potentially hurting another.  As the mother to these children, as a human being, I know I spent a lot of time pondering and living Chris's situation.  I found myself in a really dark place at times and I know my other children suffered because I was emotionally detached for a while from so many things, struggling to cope with what Chris was going through and what I was going through because of that.

There was a time way before I had children that I struggled tremendously with some issues from my own childhood.  There came a day when I had to find a way to forgive in order to feel more settled in my own life and go on.  One of the ways I did that was to tell myself to see my parents as little children and find a way to forgive the child.  If I believed that some of what happened to me was the result of how my parents were parented or how they experienced the dynamics in their childhoods and with their siblings (or lack of, in my father's case), then I found it easier to forgive my parents as adults and as parents to me.  Ultimately I learned to forgive because they simply did the best they could do.  Parenting is difficult.

I hold no ill feelings about my childhood.  In a lot of ways it and all that happened to me made me strong, independent, creative, a force, special.  I believe that is true of a lot of people who weather trauma.  I believe a person's family is the core to molding a person into who they will ultimately be in the world.  I know our family is far from perfect and still struggles at staying strong, but we all love each other and I hope when my kids are all grown that they will forgive each other, forgive their father and forgive me for the mistakes we've made with each other.

I see our family as a kaleidoscope - shards of so many beautiful pieces of glass that spin and spin, sometimes out of control, but ultimately align back together ... holding hands.

That Kind of Cry

I cried the other day.  One of those cries that crawls up through the center of your body and wraps that feeling of despair around your heart - a black sheet that shadows away the light, drapes your heart and mind and wads them into a ball and then tugs and tugs until the emotion rises to your throat as a lump and soon tears gush from your eyes - so many tears you think of a drowning person - so many tears glistening ribbons of sadness down your cheeks - so many tears from out of nowhere.

That kind of cry.  And I don't know where it came from, because I thought I had left most of the sadness behind me.  I thought I had adjusted and accepted and was settled.  Maybe you never really are settled.  Maybe you hide from some of the tears.

Chris asked me last night, "Tell me how you are?  Tell me what you think about."  We were sitting on the back porch of his house when we began to discuss aspects of his transition.  Before I could answer, he offered, "Don't I seem happy to you?"  I said, "Yes, you seem really happy."  He said, "I am happier than I have ever been, while I am not yet where I feel completely confident in my appearance, I am getting there and I am happy."  He went on to tell me when and how he came to know exactly that he was transgender and the events that triggered and propelled him to finally accept and move forward.  The information he offered me did not seem riveting or extraordinary to me, but I knew the moments and events he described were those days that altered his life and they were extraordinary events for him.

I then asked him, fearful, really, to know the answer, but needing to know, "Was it because of me, because of how I am and who I am that caused you to lose your identity?  I don't want to imply that your transitioning demands a place to place blame or fault, because that is not what I am implying, I am simply asking if somehow I, as your mother, failed you and contributed to you feeling lost?"  This was when he said, "No.  You are the strongest person I know.  You are the strongest woman I know. It is because of you, who you are and how you taught me that I found the strength to do what I needed to do and be who I need to be."

I then asked, "Did it have anything to do with being Courtney's twin?  Feeling inferior in anyway? Feeling the need to create your own, separate identity from her?"  He said, "No, it has nothing to do with being a twin - being Courtney's twin."  I explained to him that my struggles were all very real early on, and went on for a while, but my coming to accept the reality and his need for my acceptance and help were primarily and almost completely (aside from my real fear of losing him and my love for him) due to Courtney's persistent and adamant demands on me to accept and support him.

Chris then asked me again, "Tell me how you are.  Tell me what you think about?"

I did not mention that I had cried recently.  He did not need to know that a flood of hidden sadness overwhelmed me.  I didn't even know how to explain the tears, and so I didn't mention them.  But I did say, "I'm fine and happy for you because you seem happy and I am happy when I'm around you, but I never know on this journey when a new stage will overwhelm me or surprise me.  The two things I struggle a bit with right now is calling you my son and accepting your plans to have top surgery in January.  I do not have difficulty telling people you are transgender, but I find it difficult to say I have 2 daughters and 2 sons, even though I know that is what I have.  And I am not fearful of the physical aspect of you removing your breasts, while I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around how people can do that - probably because I care so much about mine - I am not fearful, I am just at another fork in the road of acceptance.  Just about the time I think I can anticipate and then cope with aspects of this journey, others come along to challenge me."

I can not sit across the table from any of my children without feeling their emotions - happy, sad, angry, excited, bored, anxious, nervous, confused ... this is what I have always believed.  But last night I sat across the table from Chris and really felt his emotions - happiness, contentment, satisfaction, joy, confidence, nervousness, love ... and realized that there were years and years of emotions I was blind to see or that he hid from me because ... to bring yourself to these positive levels of emotions, you would likely have been dwelling, at least for a time, somewhere else far more negative.  While I saw and experienced and recognized some of Chris's sadness and turmoil over the years, I never felt the depths of it, and I know it was deep because the person I sat across the table from last night, the person who had pulled himself up to this new, better place was not the person I ever saw before.  And I like this person better because it is so obvious he likes himself so much more and I can feel it when I'm around him.

I think the tears I cried ... no, I know the tears I cried were guilt.  Guilt I carry for often questioning more easily than I accept.  Guilt I carry for years of certain neglect or blindness.  Guilt I carry because I blame myself for a lot of things.

Chris said, "It is because of you, who you are and how you taught me that I found the strength to do what I needed to do and be who I need to be."  He then said, "I don't say this to flatter you.  I say this because it is the truth.  I learned from you how to be strong and fight for what is right and fight for what is right for me."

When Chloe was little I use to say to her, "Always strive to reach your fullest potential.  Imagine what you can do and be if you use all of your potential."

I remember saying it.  I believed it.  Now I am seeing Chris do it ... <3

Bridges Go Both Ways

You never know from one day to the next what life will have in store for you.  When I was in my mid 20s I swore I never wanted to have any children, as I was self-consumed, I had the perfect husband and a career I loved.  By the time I hit 29 an internal clock started ticking and the ideas I had in previous years of never wanting children vanished and were replaced with ideas of creating a family. The me at 29 was a different person than the me of 24, and thank God for that, because if the younger me had had her way, I would have never had the four children I was blessed with.

Flash forward 25 years.

It's been everything I could have hoped for and so many things I could have never imagined.  It's been way harder than anyone ever tells you and more rewarding than anything I ever deserved.  I sometimes think, selfishly, "I'm glad I have all of these children to keep me company in my old age - to be there for me in my future."  But ... just having children in no way guarantees that they will be close to you, be your companions, be anything other than people you give birth to, raise and send off into the world.  I am not particularly close to my parents and maybe that is why I have been driven to create close relationships with my own children.  Maybe we create what we don't have so as to sustain us or fulfill us in ways we were missing.  Maybe it's just luck, but I know that I have tried really hard to create relationships with my children that will last my lifetime.

This desire to never lose my children is the main and most important reason I came to finally accept and embrace Chris being transgender - one of the most difficult events and transitions I have had to deal with regarding any of my kids.  There have been others, some still going on, with others of my children, but none, thus far, as difficult as Chris's turmoils and changes - and my resistance.  You hear people say sometimes, "Would you rather be right just to win a fight?"  That was sort of the battle I fought with myself when we found out Chris was/is transgender - me constantly weighing reasons why/why not - me constantly battling my needs and desires with his - me constantly wanting to resist a change I did not understand or welcome - me constantly questioning everything to the point that it nearly drove all of us crazy.  When I finally answered the question, "Would you rather be right just to win a fight?" my answer came ... "Not at the loss of this child."  And after I concluded that I would not and could not risk losing Chris, I realized how much he needed me to help him survive this thing that was so much bigger than anything I had ever, personally, dealt with in my own life.  I realized that my pride and fears and self were standing in the way of being there to help him, and also potentially doing the very thing I truly feared more than the thing its self ... potentially destroying a bond I had worked so hard for so many years to help create.  It finally occurred to me that the bridge I was destroying between Chris and I, not only would keep me away from him, but him away from me, and he needed to be able to get to me and I needed to always be able to get to him.

If I could go back and tell my 24-year-old self one thing, I would tell her ... "It's far easier to burn a bridge than to build a bridge.  You are the architect of your life - create what you don't have, create what you need and remember that many of the bridges you build are not always for you to reach a place or a person but very often for someone to reach you."

Bridges go both ways ...

Living Among Butterflies

I've been thinking a lot lately about Chris. Maybe it's because I have been around him so much. Maybe it is because he is dramatically changing lately - becoming a man in front of my eyes - a man with facial hair, broad shoulders, more defined muscles and becoming stronger. Who would have known or thought that a female person could take testosterone shots and be, literally, transformed so quickly into a man?  Not me.  Before Chris, I never knew the process transgender people went through and I never truly realized anything about why or how they transformed.

Chris has a friend, whom I know very well, who also identifies as a male.  I have known this girl for many years and now I will begin to call him by his new, chosen name and will begin to watch and see as she, too, will begin to take testosterone and transform into who he believes he was meant to be.

People who know me well, know what a difficult time I had of coping, accepting and embracing the concept of my child being transgender, and I still have moments when I am sort of shocked by something, like when Courtney told me recently that Chris will likely be having top surgery relatively soon, or like when I see shirtless pictures of Chris on Instagram and I realize his breasts are nearly gone and he appears almost completely male.  I transformed, in a way, along with Chris, as I am "shocked" sometimes, but I am no longer sad or fearful.

Recently, I ran across a fB page of a friend's daughter who has also come out in the past year as transgender and I caught myself inspecting each picture in the daughter's photo albums - searching, not for the changes she is going through, necessarily, but searching for happiness in her face.  I know that this child's mother and father are having a very difficult time with the situation and I so wanted to find happiness in the child's face so that I would know that things would likely be okay for their family, the way things have turned out okay for Chris and our family.  I found smiles in the girl's pictures, but I know better than anyone that sadness and fear can be hidden behind smiles, so I really did not find anything in those photos other than the image of another child trying to find her way in this world.

I sometimes think, "I wish, for those people who fear and demonize and ridicule and hate on transgender people, that they, for just one conversation, could meet my son, Chris.  I wish, for just one day, that those people could live my life - a life with an amazing transgender child, a life surrounded now by so many amazing transgender people with their wants and needs and hopes and dreams ... then probably or maybe or hopefully those hate-filled people would change their minds and alter their ideas to the point that we all truly understood that this is not a thing to fear or blame or shy away from, but these are simply people who were once one way and struggling so hard at becoming another way - for their selves and for all of us."

If you put the soul of a girl inside of a boy or the soul of a boy inside of a girl, what sort of different and amazing person would that be?  If you could mix genders and then that person evolve into someone no one else is - what sort of amazingly different sort of person would that be?  This is sort of how I see transgender people now - a mixture of two defined individuals that evolve into the most unique and special sort of person.  It's a metamorphosis - like a fuzzy caterpillar that climbs the branches into a tree, chooses a place to weave a cocoon for itself and then miraculously emerges one day into a beautiful butterfly.  And then ... it happily flies away.

I'm very lucky.  I never knew I'd know my life to be filled with days surrounded by so many unique and wonderful butterflies.  I never knew I would be lucky enough to be among them ...

No ...

It was a friend who asked his daughter, "Do you think God made a mistake with Chris?"

I don't know what the answer the daughter gave.  I don't know the exact reason for the question.

I told my daughter, "Everyone has their own right to ask this question.  It does not mean this person believes this.  But even if they do, that is their prerogative.  It does not define Chris.  It does not define anything just because a person asks such a question."

What do I believe?

No.  God did not make a mistake.

The God I know and believe in does not make mistakes.  Chris is not a mistake.  Chris is my child and when God gave him to me he was a gift.  He was a "girl" gift that somewhere along the way has transformed into a boy gift.  He's my gift.

When he was born, I was so thrilled by the baby girl He gave me.  To this day, I can see her eyes and her face.  She was given to me.  But ... it is not me that the face was truly given to.  God gave to me a person whom I was meant to protect.  God gave me a child.  Who that child would become was not a person I or anyone could define.  Who that child would become was only in God's hands ... only in God's mind.

Do I believe my child was a mistake?

No.

No.

No..

You Can Not Possibly Know

I heard my husband stand our ground tonight.

You can't possibly know what it's like to be an advocate to a transgender child - to a transgender person - unless they impact your life.  Unless you become a part of their lives. Unless you understand their lives.  Unless you move from that place where you are removed and moved into their world.

Was there a time when we were remote from such things?  From the world of transgender people?  Yes.  All of our lives we were remote - removed - untouched.  Not now.  Not anymore.  We have a child who is transgender.  A child who suffered from gender/identity dysphoria.  A child who struggled to find her way past a thing that was killing her to a place where she became a he person that made him safe and okay and different than the person my husband and I understood or imagined but eventually accepted because what choice do we have but to make this child okay in his world.

We

had

two

baby

girls

who

were

and

are

identical

twins

but

one

needed

another place to survive

beyond what we thought we understood as safe

she left what we gave her behind

and that is what hurt her father and I

but ...

she created and nurtured something else

someone else

on her own

without us

someone just as good

someone just as strong

and as important

and special

maybe even more so

than what we created.

It's hard

to change

of a thing

that we felt

was perfect.

We thought it was perfect

but we have learned

it was not.

Now it is ...

Now it is ...

Now he is ... <3

A Million Diamonds

I've become comfortable.  It's that end stage of a thing that made you uncomfortable for whatever reasons.  I had my reasons, as a mother to a transgender child.  I felt I had a lot of reasons.

I faced a million questions - some I still have no answers to - some that still linger and haunt me - most that ultimately fell like a million un-cut diamonds out of my head and onto the path behind me.

I faced emotions that threatened to drown me in some dark place I truly never believed I'd climb out of.  But then I saw a light.

I faced demons that tested my strength of character, my strength of will, my strength of self-preservation, my strength of love.  I faced people who tormented me and people who guided me.  I somehow found the strength to battle the demons.

And then ... I faced myself, head on.

It's stages, like with any trauma you go through in your life - be it self-inflicted or brought on by circumstances beyond your control.  It's stages you move through - doubt ... fear ... anger ... sadness ... disbelief ... denial ... frustration ... confusion ... bitterness ... reflection ... mourning ... acceptance.

When I am in a situation now, where the subject comes up about Chris, I easily divulge the realities of our world.  Chris is transgender.  I don't offer the statement expecting anything.  As a matter of fact, I believe I almost always state this with a tone that says, "It's sort of an amazing thing."  A tone that says, "I am accepting and supportive."  A tone that says, "I am comfortable."  A tone that says, "Do not dare attempt to create a storm I have already weathered and survived."  A tone that says, "I am proud."

I sometimes think about how our life would be now if I had not ever reached this place of comfort.  I can say for certain I would have drowned and the demons would have beat me.  I would have lost Chris and maybe all of my family.  We want for all the questions in our heads to form into easy or wonderful answers so then they will fall into our hands like so many perfectly cut diamonds.  But life is not always about perfect diamonds or easy answers.

Someone said to me once a long time ago, "Be aware of how you treat your children because that is how others will treat your children."  That was the answer I found on a day last year when I finally let go of all the questions and demons and emotions that threatened Chris's survival and my own survival and I finally remembered ... I will love him comfortably and without pause, as I have always done, because I need, and he needs, everyone to love him comfortably and without pause.

My battle now is not with Chris or myself or with anyone, but ... the transgender community faces many obstacles in our society and if a battle comes where I am needed to stand beside Chris and others like him, I will be there on the front line to battle with him until everyone sees and recognizes my child's worth and rights.  The love I have for my child is a million times stronger and more powerful than anyone's hate or fear of him ... <3