If I had a dollar for every time someone said “you guys are amazing parents” I could retire and do Grace Changes Things full time.
I have such complicated feelings when I hear that. My first thought…sadness. Why should we be celebrated for loving and supporting our kid? What part of just loving your kid sounds like you should win a Parent of the Year award? If the unconditional love we have for our daughter makes us that unusual, what does that say for all the other kids? Who don’t feel loved? Who don’t feel worthy? Who know that by being themselves, they’ll sacrifice love from their parents–the ones who gave them life? Look, I know that happens. More than it doesn’t. Don’t believe me? Look up the homeless rate of LGBTQ+ youth.
If love is the bar, if that’s the barometer by which we judge parenting skills, I wish I had known that twenty seven years ago–would have saved myself a whole lot of guilt.
My second thought–if they only knew how we almost f*#*d it up.
I've written about this time before, and it's hard to relive no matter how often I share it. Allison came out to us twice. The first time, my reaction can only be described as hysterical. I cried. I panicked. She retreated and recanted. My response was fueled by fear. I was terrified, and when I feel threatened in anyway, my fight instinct kicks in. I fight to protect myself from hard. From complicated. From things I don’t understand. I didn’t understand what it meant to be transgender. I had always been an ally to the LGBT community, without ever knowing what the T meant. And I’d never even heard of the Q, I or As.
She denied herself for our comfort for nearly 2 years. I have so much shame about that. During that time, my Mama Bear sense told me that door wasn’t officially closed. I started researching gender identity and dysphoria. And yet. I still couldn’t see it. Or was I refusing to see it?
The second and final time she came out, I was much calmer. She was terrified. And resolved. She paced the floor. I listened. I sat on the floor with her. We talked for a long time. By outward appearances, I was the model parent, saying the right things. Being supportive. But my insides were shaking. I had no idea how to handle this. The fear felt like it was oozing out of my pores.
She was ready to go. She’d been waiting for most of her life. I was hoping we could keep this to ourselves for awhile longer. As always, she sensed that too. Told us she didn’t want to transition until after high school. My brain heard “buying time before shit gets real.” Please don’t misunderstand–it wasn’t because I didn’t believe her. Nor was it because I thought there was anything wrong with being trans. It was none of that. How do we do this? How will the world treat her? What if we can’t protect her? What if we can’t do this? What if we mess up and she ends up hating us. Her life will be so much harder on this path.
After coming out to family, friends and the world, we experienced plenty of hard, lots of judgement, and lost so much of our former life. Relationships. Her school. Our faith. My career in Catholic education. But we gained much as well. New friendships. New school. Surprise support and acceptance from many. New career. Amazing opportunities. We learned that no matter how hard this journey can be, the blessings far outweigh the pain. Her smile and her joy make every difficult day worthwhile--yes, even these days when we're spending so much of our time fighting for her right to exist. It's still worth it.
I launched Grace Changes Things during a time of unfathomable hate being hurled at trans and queer youth and their families. Of all the scenarios I played in my head during sleepless nights, this current reality is something I never envisioned. Currently a large, vocal and powerful mob is taking aim at our queer children and our parental rights, as well as our doctors, therapists, teachers, schools, and extracurricular activities like sports, with the hopes of eliminating us. If the word "eliminate" sounds harsh, a quick Google search of trans laws in Florida will prove I'm right.
I want to speak directly to the weary trans families reading this--even when we have to travel to our state capitals time and again to testify against gender affirming care bans, even on the days when we are forced to share our most private thoughts, feelings and experiences as trans parents in the hopes of changing hearts and minds, even on the daily when we hear of new laws, new bills, new ways to wipe our kids from existence--it's worth it. IT'S. ALL. WORTH. IT.
To see Allison living her life and experiencing the normal highs and lows of early adulthood is something I wouldn't trade for any other life. How many parents can say that their child found their way, their purpose and their truth at such a young age? Our kids are forced to grow up so fast. I haven't yet met a trans kid who didn't have a wise, old soul. These kids know who they are. Full stop.
In case you need a reminder--when fear tries to steal your comfort and yes, your sleep--please remember, dear ones, what fear and its evil twin, hate, can't take.
Your first Pride
The bright smile you haven't seen in years
Her first Prom
Hearing hysterical laughter lofting upstairs as she watches a movie with her brothers
The look on her face when she comes out from the dressing room in clothes that fit her new curves perfectly
Listening to her hopes and dreams for the future--one she never thought she'd live to see
The note you receive from her new teacher telling you what a joy she is to have in class and how much her participation adds to the discussion
The day you receive the court orders legally changing her name and the gender marker on her birth certificate
The call when she gets her dream job--the one she told you about when she was little
The excited text when she gets her first paycheck
Moving her into her first apartment
Picking up her girlfriend at the airport and seeing the sheer joy on her face when she's with the one her heart loves
The sound of her singing in the shower
When she calls just to say hi and share about the dinner she made
Every day she wakes up because your worst fears were that one day she wouldn't
Love is greater than Fear. Every minute of every hour of every day. Hold tightly to those smiles my friends.