My new eyes

My new eyes-

The gift from a transgender son

When you list off all the things you wish for your beautiful baby lying in your arms, conflict with their body is not one.  You pray for their happiness, their love, their career.  You pray they are healthy, and have an easy transition at school and make friends easy. You pray they find peace, and fit in, and do well in school.   Not this.  Not to be in conflict with their body.

I can say with some assurance I have always supported my child.  Supported?  Yes, wanted this and accepted this fully?  No.  “Your child has gender identity disorder.”  Huh….. That’s not right.  So my baby is that?  80% of kids grow out of it….. Ok then, we will support until he decides this was all just a big mistake.

Maybe when we shave his hair off, he will feel strange and decide to be a girl…. Well that didn’t happen.

Maybe when we let him shop in the boys department, he will feel uncomfortable and decide maybe he is a girl….. No. Not that either.

When we start using the male pronouns at school, and when everyone says “he” this will all change, and he will be my daughter….. Instead.  He is free.

 

Supportive, yes.  Scared as all hell for the future his life will hold…yes…. Oh God why?! 

So we changed.  I always say that we transition, not our child.  They are just being them, we have to change.  I said it, and ment it, and tried it, and faked it… Until one day, I woke up with new eyes.

I used “he” with a smile and a cringe inside.  I sent him to school that first day, crying the whole way home believing I sent my child to the wolves and was about to ruin his life letting him do this!  I can’t just let him use the boys toilets when everyone knows he’s female!  I can’t just let his friends outcast him and bully him and make fun of this kind, sweet child! I must be the worst mother ever!  But listening to his pleas to be male since 18 months old.  His convictions of his reality.  His begging with God and me to make him male, and when will his penis grow, and how God made a mistake.  The kid said if I don’t let him be  boy he’s moving to Canada.  Canada?  Really?

It has been a year, and my new eyes are here.

I was faking it until I made it.  And I have made it.  So has he.

I could use “he” and “his” with fluency, and only mildly contemplate it in my brain.  But now, one year later.  A new woman has emerged.  This child is finally my son. 

Not just my son, but the son I always wanted!  If I could write out my perfect kid on paper… THIS WOULD BE HIM.  Not only do I now have a son, I have a perfect, amazing boy, who I adore and cherish and fawn over.  These are my new eyes.

I meet new parents of the little kids, and ache again for them, because I will remember the weight of the reality forever.  That time of uncertainty and fear.  This ache on your heart and guessing yourself and your child.  I remember that.  That is why I will always be a part of whatever support group I can.  I will be here for any parent, until they get the gift of their new eyes.

See, God didn’t make a mistake when creating my child.  God knew this kid was just badass enough to go through this, learn from this, and teach others with it.  Including me.  Me!  The one who thought she was all open-minded and go with the flow, and accept everyone…until it’s your kid, and the knowledge the world SUCKS and you don’t want your kid thrown in that! Me.  He is badass enough to teach me.

So please parent’s be patient.  Do not be upset or guilty with the questions you have and pain you feel.  You don’t want this for your baby.  That sleeping baby in your arms.  But your child too, is badass enough to do this.  You are amazing enough to support them.  We are all here together, and can go at it as one.

I love my new eyes.  The eyes that see a happy, healthy, outgoing, funny, annoying, pestering, cheeky little monkey of a child.  The eyes that after much deliberation, fear, guilt, pain, ache, and trepidation…… are now open, to the fact I have a son….