It didn’t cross my
mind. There was no pattern—if there should have been one. No, I had no idea. I
thought puberty created the feelings of frustration, anxiety, and moodiness I had
never seen.
As the body developed—bigger
breasts—the shirts got bigger, and wider hips bought on discomfort that
triggered the need to wear baggy pants. I used to wear baggy pants around that
age, so I thought it was a tomboy thing.
Menstruation came
with more anxiety. Then, with no particular style in mind, the long hair had to
go.
One day, he said, “I
don’t want to be a girl.”
“OK.” I paused. “So… like…
you don’t want your breasts.”
“Yes.”
“I need some time to
process this,” I said.
I felt his pain, his
frustration and the relief I could see in his eyes after he told me. I had to help him get
through this. We went to therapy and everything made sense. I’m thankful that life had me in a place where I could
receive the information and address it. I cared about his well-being, his happiness.
I’m more aware of
what could have happened if he didn’t tell me. Now, younger than the majority of his peers, he’s now in his first year, in
university, in another country, and he’s receiving mainly A grades. He’s receiving
testosterone hormone therapy to match his body to his gender identity.
I don’t want to come
across as a saint, but I’m coping fine. My biggest regret is not being
physically there with him, but I might have stifled him if I were there.
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To learn more about this topic, click on the following links.
http://kidshealth.org/parent/general/-
