Published in celebration of National Coming Out Day. Not my story of “Coming Out,” of course. Nor even my daughter’s, exactly. Instead, I offer my experience as a parent whose child felt safe enough to come out as transgender and queer.
J. Friedman Fast
I knew December 19th of 2020 was going to be a big day for me, but my biggest plans for the day were all about a haircut. You know what they say about life and plans…
To be fair, it was to be a major change in hairstyle. The Big Chop, as they say. The Post-Pandemic, Finally-Going-Gray, from long to pixie-length chop. In the life of a 46-year-old woman, this is as big as it gets. When I returned home from the salon around noon on that Saturday, I texted my sleeping teenage son, who was the only person home, so that when he emerged from his basement room still groggy, he wouldn’t be alarmed to see a silver short-haired person in the place of his formerly long-haired mostly-brunette mother.
Shortly thereafter, my gangly sixteen year old Alex did emerge from the lower level, coming up the stairs to join me in the living room, where I sat in my favorite chair, browsing on my phone. He took the matching chair opposite me, complimented me on my hair, and then said, “Can I talk to you?”
This got my immediate attention, as Alex never wanted to talk about anything, voluntarily. I knew to put my phone down, and was glad I had not yet turned the television on. I’m sure it was no accident that he had picked this moment, when his sister was spending the night at her father’s house, and his stepfather (my husband) was out. It must be something big. Complete honesty: I think there is a 50% chance he is about to tell me he is gay. I feared the other 50% chance is that he has been hurting himself by cutting again.
I said, “Of course.” And tried to give an encouraging smile.
To his credit, he got straight to the point. “So, I’ve recently come to the realization that I am transgender. That I am supposed to be female.”
Expectant pause. Okay, not quite gay.
Knowing a response is expected, I go with my initial reaction, which is something like, “Okay. Well, you know I love you. I support you. How long have you been feeling this way?” Followed immediately in my head with: This explains so much! And such an overwhelming feeling of relief.
Alex says, “Just a few weeks, but I’m pretty sure. I’d like your help to find a therapist to help me confirm what I’m feeling, and to find out what the process is to transition.”
I’m finally shocked, as he has always been vehemently opposed to therapy. Then more relief. “Of course! That’s a great idea. I’ll look into options for you. Can I ask you… Do you know what pronouns you prefer to use?”
Alex nods and says, “I think ‘she/her’ or ‘they’ work for now.”
More questions are flooding my head, as I try to remember what else is appropriate for the situation. I don’t want to overwhelm her. I ask, “Do you still want to be called Alex, or have you thought about using a different name?”
She shakes her head this time. “No, I think Alex is fine for now. It’s gender neutral, and I’ll think about it more later.”
I hesitate over this next question. “Okay, so you don’t have to answer this one. I know it’s none of my business, and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with your gender identity, but… I’m just curious. Would you say you’re more attracted to guys or girls?”
She doesn’t hesitate to answer. “90% girls.” Looks me right in the eye, too. I’m so impressed and proud of her openness.
“Thank you so much for sharing all of this. I’m so proud of you! Of course, I won’t tell anyone until and unless you say so. I do recommend, when you’re ready, telling your father and your sister soon. I can help you with that if you want. In the meantime, I will do some research on therapists, and we’ll go from there. Is there anything else you need?”
She shakes her head, but looks relieved. “Nope, thanks.” And rises to leave, probably fleeing to her room as usual. I let her.
As her footsteps descend the stairs, I sit back in my chair and let the silence envelop me. I let the shock settle in a little more. But also the relief. It explains so much.
The struggles with depression. Why none of the medications ever worked. Why the therapists never worked. We had the wrong diagnosis! Why the suicidal ideation. Why she never felt she belonged.
Yes, this complicates things in some ways. There will be people who won’t understand or who won’t accept her. But at least we can now understand what is going on with her. Now we can find resources for her. Now we know what questions to ask. Now we can actually help her! It feels like a great, crushing weight being lifted from my shoulders. A darkness being lifted from over the entire house. Light flooding in from all the windows.
I search my feelings and my mind for why this feels so great. The only conclusion I can come to is: This means that Alex is not crazy. This means that I’m not crazy. There was a reason for everything we’ve gone through all these years. It was beyond our control. And we can get her the help she needs.
Because the facts are that I love my child. She is a wonderful person who deserves to be happy. If she believes that she was assigned the wrong gender at birth, then we will support her to confirm that diagnosis and get the gender affirming medical and mental health care she needs to transition. Whatever that takes, no matter how long it takes. It will be done, and it will be done in a way that preserves her dignity. And she will be surrounded by love every step of the way.
As my heart wrapped around these truths, my head went to work. Making lists of next steps. Because that is what I do. It is in my nature to love, to protect, and then act and execute on that love. I am a mother, first and foremost. It is what I am best at.
So this is just the beginning of this story, of what will be my very long journey parenting an emerging daughter. Almost a year later now, there is already so much more to tell. I invite you to come along. If you have a story to share, I’d love to hear about it, too. This should be a conversation. Feel free to leave a comment or send me an email. And stay tuned for another chapter in this story, coming soon.
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