All the Shoes ...

It's always in the night when my thoughts are clearest for some reason.  It's when I think the best.  It's when I write the best.  It's when I make most of my to-do lists.  Tonight I am not writing any to-do lists.  Tonight I am thinking about Chris.

On this night, Chris is in my house sleeping in his old room down the hall.  It's the room he shared for many years with his sister, Courtney, however, tonight, only he is here.

Chris and Courtney no longer live in our home. They have their own home that they share with another room-mate in Austin.  Over time, their room in our home has changed and become sort of a catch-all room that I eventually would like to clear and clean out completely and make into a nice guest bedroom.  I really don't know what has taken me so long to repaint that room, clear out all the miscellaneous furniture, pack away all of Chris and Courtney's belongs left behind, to be stored in the attic or sent off to live with them.  I really don't know what it is, other than some part of me that has not been ready to completely change that part of my life.  The room is not the same, at all, as when they lived there, but in some ways it is still very much their room.  I guess a part of me always wants it to be "their room".

When I use to blog on my first blog (called On the Upside), I remember writing a post one day about all the shoes in our house and how it would aggravate me to constantly to find sets of shoes lying around everywhere - from six different people - so many shoes - so many shoes never put away - so many shoes that never made it to their closets - so many shoes left by the front door or under a couch - so many shoes.  I ended that post by realizing that, while I was often aggravated by all the misplaced shoes ... that there would come a day when I would miss all the shoes.  And, it's true.  I miss Courtney and Chris's shoes in my house.  I miss when Courtney and Chris are not in my house.

Chris is in my house sleeping in his old room tonight down the hall.  I know he's there asleep, but even more than that, I can feel him here.  My husband and I have had several discussions over the past year about Chris being transgender.  We've discussed how it would feel when he began to appear more male than female.  We've discussed how we would feel if/when he grew facial hair, underarm hair, leg hair.  We've discussed how we would feel when his voice deepened and his shoulders grew wider.  These discussions took place many, many months ago and since those discussions, all of these things have happened and ... we don't discuss any of those things anymore.  Mostly what we discuss is ... "When are they coming home?  When is Chris coming home to visit?"

Chris is in my house sleeping in his old room tonight down the hall.  His shoes are near the front door ...

Where is the Place Where Everyone is Happy?

I am often lost.  I wish I was not so lost

I had 2 baby girls that I loved

Then I had one girl

And one girl who was lost

I wish it was easy to say that I gave one girl away to some place where that girl found another place where she was happier

It is not easy for a mother to give her child away ... even to a happy place

She wants very badly to give her child the space to be happy

It is the most difficult thing this mother has ever done ...

I Would Have Wished For Eagles ...

Can you imagine yourself living in a world where you could only survive if you conformed?

My children have grown up with a mother (and father) who defies conformity.  Maybe it comes from an innate need to rebel on my part.  Maybe it comes from an innate need to defy.  Maybe it comes from living life to some degree to where you are aware and convinced that conforming to some "norm" is boring or useless or futile or ridiculous or harmful to your own survival.  I believe, for me, it is this last reason.  It is harmful to my own survival - conformity.

Walk in the midst of everyone, but pave your own path, somehow, to a life that is unique only to you - that is how I live my life.  It is not how everyone lives their lives.  It is not how my children live their lives.  My children have an innate confidence that, no matter what or how they choose to live their lives, they will survive and prosper.  My children live outside of conventional lines.  I watch them and see that the choices they make are unique and specific to their own happiness.  I watch and see that they pay the price, as I sometimes do, to live lives of nonconformity.  I watch and see how people look to them and even emulate them, because others see that these children of mine venture and fly without boundaries.

If I could have defined the children I wished for before they were born, I would have wished, "I want eagles.  I will love and cherish a sparrow, but I want eagles.  I want the strongest and most able.  I want leaders and not followers.  I want strength and wisdom and wings on my children that span so wide they cast shadows on anything and everyone that would ever attempt to defy or harm them.  I want them to be kind and Godly and generous.  I want them to know their worth and use every ounce of their potential to make their worth known to the world.  I want eagles."

It takes an eagle to spawn an eagle.  I am thankful my children were and are strong enough to fly out from beneath the shadow I cast, to fly and soar and cast their own shadows of love and defiance, because they are everything I would have wished for.

Chloe was the first born of our twins, but the meeker of her and her sister; somehow in a shadow of many things that drowned her spirit and identity for many years.  Through strength and wisdom and turmoil and determination ... Chris has emerged out of all shadows, to define his own worth.  This ... I did not do.  This ... he did with his own strength and direction.  This ... is the eagle I would have wished for ...

Love is a Battlefield

I was thinking today about two particular friends of mine who found out recently that each has a child who is gay and how they both describe the difficulty their families are going through.  When these individuals told me their stories, I did not offer them my story to maybe, in some way, lighten their load, as I have come to learn that during these sorts of times there is really not much anyone can say to pull you from the fear you are experiencing to the point that you will believe that things will get better or things could be worse, even though both are true.

I say, "things could be worse" because it's sometimes the only way you can optimistically deal with a situation you truly believe is the worst thing that could happen to you.  Very often, parents feel that finding out their child is gay is among one of the worst things they can imagine happening to them.   Pretty often, I can imagine, parents who find out their child is transgender are pretty convinced that things could not be much "worse" (take it from me).  In both cases, there are worse things.  Losing a child to death is worse.  Losing a child through alienation is worse.  Losing a child to a drug addiction is worse.  Having a child experience unrelenting depression is worse.  Having a child who is living with disease is worse.  There are many worse situation I believe we, parents of gay or transgender children, could experience with regard to our children. Sometimes you truly do not become aware of what you believe is a potentially worse situation until you move through the stages of denial, anger, fear, mourning, sadness and finally reach acceptance of a thing that threatens you.

A mother of a transgender child might look to a mother of a gay child and know that things could be worse for her.  And a mother of a heroine addicted child might look to a mother of a transgender child and know that things could be worse for her.  A mother who has lost her child to cancer might look to a mother of a heroine addicted child and know that things could be worse for her.  Losing a child to death is, in my opinion, the worst, because it just is and because with all the other mothers there is still hope.  Hope that their children will find happy, healthy and productive lives - free of drugs, living a happy gay life, being a complete and fulfilled transgender individual in society.

So often, with gay or transgender children, parents will say, "I don't want for my child to have to live this difficult life."  First of all, there is some truth in that, but mostly that is a cop-out.  I think parents don't want to live a life such as these that they didn't plan for or hope for or imagine.  Secondly, I have come to learn that the alternative for these children is far worse - living a life of lies, living with depression, living in secret, living in sadness, not really living at all but just trying to survive, and that is no way for anyone to have to live.

Everything in life is relative.  I often say to friends or family who are in a stressful situation that they are analyzing to death; rambling on and and on and mapping out for weeks and weeks in advance every scenario possible to reach a potentially possible solution, blah, blah, blah ... I say, "Wait a minute.  A lot can happen between now and tomorrow.  Things you can not plan for that could change this situation in an instant."  And this is how the feelings are with gay and transgender children.  So much can happen to turn your sadness to happiness.  So much can happen to turn your refusal to acceptance.  So much can happen to turn your anger to calmness.  So much can happen that you never imagined or planned, both negative and positive, but you have to go through it - for your child - with as much compassion and love as you can find within yourself.

It is not only not the worst thing ... it might become such a part of you that it becomes one of your very favorite things if you give it a chance.  With Chris, one of the things about him being transgender that I have fallen in love with is his many transgender (and gay) friends that I have come to know. The thing I am most drawn to is how different they are from everyone else - different in an "outside the box" kind of way - different in a "they will survive no matter what" kind of way - different in a "if you watch them long enough, you are privileged to see them move out of darkness and into light right before your eyes; move from sadness to happiness by taking extraordinary measures to change their lives.  They are warriors.  

Life is a battlefield.  Love is a battlefield.  I, for one, am glad that I am now on the battlefield with my child as he continues to fight and secure his happiness.  If your child was fighting cancer, where would you be?

How Long Can Hate Hold a Thing Together?

Chris has been on testosterone for a year now. He's changing rapidly before my eyes.  I've had many chances to think about how I feel about his changes because I have seen many of the stories in recent weeks where he posts about his progress on several social medias.  It seems so odd to me that not much surprises or shocks me anymore about Chris being trans.  Somewhere along this year's journey I grew at ease and became completely accepting.  I seldom ever call Chris by his birth name, Chloe, anymore.  I do, however, occasionally still refer to Chris and Courtney as "the girls" when talking about them in a mutual sense.  One day that will stop.

I have had people comment that I'm a good mother and part of the reason they say that is because of how they see me with Chris's journey, how they have seen our family adjust and become supportive. I wish, often, I was a better mother.  I wish I had been there for so many years when Chris was really struggling, but I wasn't.  It might seem to some that Chris, and all of us, are in the most difficult times now, but I don't see it that way.  When I see and am around Chris, I feel and see that he is coming into more of the person he needs and desires to be and I see and sense thrill and happiness.  When I read what Chris writes about where he is now in his journey in relation to where he came from many, many months ago, I know he is so much closer to piecing so many puzzle pieces of his life together and that makes me happy.  Chris has documented a lot of his journey (on YouTube and such) and when I watch the older videos, it is clear how very unhappy he was, but also clear that he saw the vision for his future - a vision I was so blind to seeing for a very long time.

Chris is also in the lengthy process now of legally changing his name from Chloe Nicole Rhodes to Christopher Nicholas Rhodes.  I mentioned this to my mother recently and I could sense her sadness. Some things still surprise and shock her, as they do other people, I am sure.  I believe that it was when I stopped running from Chris and hiding behind my fears and mourning that that was when I was able to recognize all that was really going on.  I was able to do this for many reasons, but the most important of those reasons was by being around Chris and his twin sister, Courtney, (who is his biggest advocate and friend) and by being around Chris's friends, and especially many of his trans friends. These people who love and support and respect Chris helped me become more loving and less fearful.  Being around Chris and his friends also helped me see Chris being happy.

A few weeks ago my mother pulled me aside at a family gathering and told me about a friend of hers (that I also know) who has a daughter a little bit younger than Chris who recently told her parents that she is also trans.  My mother described how distraught and scared this girl's parents are and what a difficult time they are going through.  My mother told her friend that she and I should maybe talk - that it might help talking to another mother who is experiencing this same thing with her child.  This other mother's situation is different than mine, as her child is her child, but ... my advice to her would be ... "Do not spend excessive amounts of time trying to figure out what went wrong or how you might change what is going on, because you likely can not change it and nothing, you could control, went wrong.  Mourn your own dreams for as long as you need to, but do not alienate your child in the process.  Listen more than you talk.  Hug when you want to run.  Believe this is not the worse thing that could ever happen to you, because it is not.  Believe it will get better, because it can.  Believe your child knows more about themselves than you do.  Believe that if/when this brings your child happiness that all the tears you shed for yourself will be worth it.  Believe."

If I could go back to 15 months ago when I found out my child was trans, and give my own self advice ... it would be these exact same things.  Chances are I wouldn't have listened.  Chances are I would have still wandered around in a dark place for far too long feeling fearful and angry and sorry for myself, as those emotions are often very seductive and addictive, especially if you are emotionally vulnerable and presented with a situation you have no control over, but ... love is easier and fighting builds only walls.

One of my favorite quotes from a favorite show of mine is ... "How long can hate hold a thing together?"  The answer is not as clear as it at first might seem, but logic suggests that eventually something or everything will shatter.  Love is what holds me to Chris.  Love is what holds our family together.  Love is what is getting Chris to where he needs to be ...

B.O.Y.

I attended the surprise party this past week that my daughter Courtney (and his girlfriend, Anna) threw for her twin, Chris. It was a party to celebrate his one year for being on testosterone.  I drove from San Antonio to Austin in the truck with my youngest daughter, my husband and 3 very large blue balloons Courtney had bought and asked me to bring to the party.  The balloons were letters that spelled B.O.Y.

When we arrived at Courtney and Chris's house I helped prepare the food table.  I emptied the trash.  I put the dogs in the garage.  I mingled with the other 25 or so guests as we all waited for Chris to arrive through the front door.  I yelled "SURPRISE" when everyone else did as Chris crossed the threshold into his house filled with so many people that came to celebrate this day with him.  I watched as he moved through the room thanking everyone.  I stood quietly and watched.  And then I cried.  Just a little bit.

I cried because there was so much happiness in the room.
I cried because Chris was so happy.
I cried because I was happy.

I almost want to say that I cried because there was a part of me that was sad, as that makes for a more dramatic story - more of a story some people might want to read about - a mother in turmoil over this journey with Chris.  But I have already written that part of the story.  This is the beginning of the next chapters.  There were no tears of sadness.  There have been no tears of sadness for a while now and on this day of Chris's party, all I felt was ease and happiness.  To me, that's the better story - the one where the mother found peace in a situation she never imagined she would survive.  The one where there was this day of complete happiness for Chris and for me.

This party came on the heels of a phone call Chris and I had had the previous week wherein he informed me that he had just visited the Court House in Austin to begin the paperwork for changing his name from Chloe Nicole to Christopher Nicholas.  In that conversation he told me about a judge he'd stood before.  An elderly man.  A man he had no way of knowing how he would act or react, especially after he'd heard sad stories from friends who'd had bad experiences with judges when they went to change their names.  Chris described how kind the judge was, how engaging he was, how he made the experience so pleasant.  When Chris told me this story about the judge, I smiled, not just because I was glad the situation went smoothly, but because it gave me hope in people.

I know some of how far Chris has come over the last year since beginning to transition - since beginning on testosterone.  I know how far we have all come.  I know how far I have come.  I'm not so scared anymore and it really has so little to do with my own strength or fortitude - it has far more to do with the strength Chris has shown on this very difficult journey to change his life. Somewhere along the way I began to remember that some of my happiness was completely dependent on Chris's happiness.

A mother is only as happy as her unhappiest child ...

Love and Life and Good Friends

I recently called an old friend of mine who lives in Austin.  It was her birthday, but I hadn't talked to her in a couple of years.  I wanted to wish her happy birthday, but also let her know that Chris and Courtney now lived in Austin and mentioned that we should get together soon one day when I was up there from San Antonio visiting the twins.  She asked what the twins were doing in Austin; did they have jobs?  I went on to tell her about the twins' clothing company, FLAVNT Streetwear, and how Chris and Courtney were devoting most of their time these days to their company and gave her the link to FLAVNT's site so she could check it out.  We tentatively set a date to meet for dinner.

A few days after this phone call she called me back.  "I looked at the twins' site," she said.  "After looking at it I wondered if you were worried?  If it's one of the reasons you called me - or hadn't called me in a while.  I wondered if you were worried that I wouldn't still love them."  She must have seen their pictures.  She must have read their stories.  She must have concluded that Chris is transgender.

She was there in Vegas with me and Chris and Courtney on the twins' 21st birthday 3 years ago.  A trip we had taken specifically to celebrate their 21st.  She was there when Chris first approached me on that trip in our hotel room about him possibly being transgender.  At the time, Chris was Chloe, dressed mostly like a 21 year old boy, was definitely gay (I had known that for a few years) but when he told me that he felt more like a boy than a girl, it really never occurred to me, at the time, what that really meant to him.  When he told me this, in a very brief, emotion-filled conversation between him and I, I cried, told him I would love him no matter what and then proceeded to eventually tell my friend, who was with us, what he had said.  Not much was discussed between any of us after that 20 minute conversation (it would be nearly 3 years before Chris approached me again in December of 2014 to let me and his father know that he was, in fact, transgender and going to transition), but that is truly when it all started, and this friend was a part of the journey in many ways.

In that call my friend made to me, asking me if I was worried, I said, "No, not at all.  Honestly, I hadn't even thought about all that has been going on.  I simply called because we needed to see you, as it has been such a long time."

One of the things about Chris and me is that I have never worried about what other people might think.  It was not even in my thoughts when I called my friend.  She has known the twins, and loved them dearly, since the day they were born and it never occurred to me that her feelings for them would change in any way (because I know her), regardless of what all had changed since the last time she had seen them.  In the phone conversation we had recently she affirmed this belief, saying, "I can't wait to see them.  You know how much I love them and always will."

When you learn your child is transgender, you go through many stages of acceptance.  I questioned myself along this journey and some of the questions I asked were, "Are you ashamed?  Are you fearful of how this reflects on you as a parent?  Are you fearful of what people might say or think?"  These are reasonable and logical questions a parent might ask themselves and also feelings they might actually experience.  I asked myself these questions during the times when I was trying to figure out the reasons why I was having so much difficulty accepting Chris being transgender.  The truth is ... I was NEVER ashamed.  I was NEVER fearful of how the situation reflected on me as a parent.  I was NEVER concerned about what people might say or think.  My turmoil was always centered around my concern for Chris.  And my concern for my own mental health when trying to reconcile my sad feelings with a reality I did not know how to deal with.

We will meet this friend for dinner soon.  I will talk to her about some of what has occurred over the last several years of this journey with Chris (and Courtney).  She will be happy to see all of us, show love toward the twins as she always has and be easily accepting of all the changes, just as I knew she would.  I never questioned it.  I never think about it.  Without thought, I go into each situation regarding Chris being transgender (or both twins being gay) believing that people will be accepting and understanding, but if they are not, that is their prerogative.  Not everyone can easily understand or accept how other people live their lives or the choices they have to make to survive.

I have always tried to surround myself with people, such as this friend, that respect love and life the way my family and I do.  Live and let live and then gather around each other - that is the right way for people to treat each other ...