EDITOR’S NOTE: The following column was solicited by 41 Action News by a man who transitioned from a female more than a decade ago. At his request, we are keeping his identity hidden. His column has been edited for style and copy issues, but his words remain his own.
Have you seen stories about transgender children online? Have you seen the comments below them?
Judgments. A sprinkle of sympathy. Some more judgments. Some support. Did I mention judgments?
It's so easy to judge. Everyone does a little bit of it. I've done it. We, as a body of people, seem to have a hard time putting ourselves in the shoes of another person.
Can you not imagine the joy of parents - having a healthy baby placed in your arms? "Congratulations! It's a girl!" From the moment you learned you're expecting, you started to imagine this new life. Maybe you knew ahead of time that it was a girl. Maybe you opted not to know. Maybe you had a name for each. Who will she be? What will she do?
Can you not fast forward a few years and imagine trying to stuff a stubborn and willful child into cute little tights and a dress for a family wedding? They’ll have runs in them probably before leaving the house. Or a dress that is SO cute that you don't know why she's crying and fighting like a cornered animal to get away from you. How will you manage to get a brush through her messy hair for a second time?
Are you a mom? Can you not feel a little bit of hurt when she breaks free and runs to Dad for a rescue. "Can you please tell mommy I don't want to wear a dress? It's scratchy and itchy and it pinches my arms."
Are you a dad? Maybe you can imagine feeling like you can't rescue your child from having to wear something nice to this function. "Honey, we all have to do things we don't want to do. I don't want to wear a tie."
How do you argue with her when she says she'd trade you?
No, you probably didn't imagine it that way when she was a baby in her little pink blanket. Maybe you'd imagined that she'd be a little princess that would love getting dressed up. Nobody dreams of having a perfect little "tomboy" daughter. Nobody longs to have a little tomboy daughter that never outgrows the boy.
I'll be honest. It's not what I dream of.
As I look forward to trying to conceive a child with my wife - that is not at all what I hope for. Judge me. That's ok, I judge me too.
"Ten fingers and ten toes! I just want a healthy baby!” I've heard that so many times from expecting parents when asked what they're hoping for. I’m kind of hoping for a boy. A girl would be fine. Just not a child like the one I was. "Please don't let me have a child like me!"
That's the thought that goes through my mind. A silent plea that’s almost a prayer.
"Heck, the conceiving is the fun part," coworkers say to my discernible hesitation when asked when we are going to have kids. Sure it is for most men. For men who can't get the job done themselves, it's bittersweet. I imagine sterile men have a set of issues all their own. For me, I wasn't ever equipped with the hope that I would be able to fertilize my wife. So I'm not comparing my issues with those men. But I can imagine the frustration of having to look for a contribution from someone else in order to try for children -- because I'm living it, too.
NEXT: Our columnist begins his transition
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My transition from female-to-male started years ago. I didn't know my wife then. She's never seen pictures of me before. She doesn't know my old name. She does know that it existed. I'm relieved that she doesn't have any curiosity about that stuff. I think she senses the pain behind that stuff - and she's the most caring and loving woman I've ever known.
I'm not a political person. I'm not an agenda. I have no interest in changing anyone's mind about any preconceived ideas they have about trans people. I have no interest in being judged. I live my life. I'm a good man. My dad told me so. He would know. He tried to encourage me toward an easier path as a child without allowing anyone to break my spirit. My dad was old fashioned and pretty conservative. So I hurt when I imagine the disappointment and grief he most surely felt as I rejected everything a daughter was supposed to be. The last thing I ever wanted was to disappoint or embarrass him. The first time he spoke of his fear for the path ahead of me was when I told my parents I was dating a girl.
"All I ever wanted was for you kids to have an easier time in life than I did," he told me.
All I ever wanted was to grow up and be him. Not like him. Him.
Well, I'm probably as much like him as one could imagine. I just didn't have an easier time than he did getting here. I tried talking myself out of transition. I didn't know it was possible until college. I read something about a person transitioning from female to male. I had as much dread inside as I did relief. It was the first time I'd ever known of another person to feel what I'd lived with from the moment I started to have my own personality. Ever since that first hot flush I felt wash over my face when I recognized disapproval over wanting boy cousins' toys over my girl toys.
I had talks with myself over suicide. That wasn't my style. As miserable as I was as a female -- one failing at every attempt to try and blend as one at least -- I wanted to be alive. I wanted a life. I just didn't want the one ahead of me -- the one everyone else wanted for me.
The best estimates available about suicide rates for trans people are bleak. The percentages I've seen start in the 40s... and those are just best guesses. Can you imagine being THAT parent? Not only watching your child suffer internally and not know what is troubling them or how to fix it -- but finding their body after they've lost their struggle? Can you not feel, at the very least, a little ache in your heart for those that have had that ultimate grief of burying a child they brought into the world? Because if you can't, I'm judging again.
Transition doesn't magically fix the issues for a trans individual. At least it didn't for me. Life brings around reminders that I wasn't born into the life that I now have. It's a series of compromises. Making the best of what seemed like a cruel joke as a kid... one day at a time. I enjoy my life. I'm happy. I'm fulfilled. But I wouldn't wish it on another life.
If I could go back and be born male -- great.
If I could go back and be born happy with a female body -- great.
I think that's why I'm not inclined to be political. I'm not cut out for activism because I wish there didn't have to be people like me. That is why I feel for the parents of trans children, because I know how hard that must be. There were times when the only love there was for me was the love my parents had -- because I sure as hell didn't have any love for myself. Kids shouldn't feel that way.
The next time you see a story about parents setting aside their hopes and dreams to support who their child -- a child who can't help but want to be who they are -- please try and opt for anything but judgment.
Get more information about transgender children, specifically geared toward parents and families.
