Sound bytes and Facebook memes have served to divide us rather than unite us. The only real way to change the world is to share our stories. The most powerful way to change hearts and minds is to connect with other humans; to extend grace and love and really LISTEN to one another.
With that in mind, I am putting my very tender heart out into the world. With his permission, I am sharing our son’s story. I have read the ‘comments’ sections of similar stories, and the vitriol is heartbreaking. Knowing that risk, I am still choosing to share this. I choose to believe that painful awareness is greater than ignorant bliss.
Not long ago, our family was invited to a seminar, to speak about Our Journey through Lee’s transition. This is the talk I shared.
Our journey with Lee began on a February day in a labor and delivery room at Mount Grace Hospital. At this point in my life, I’ve changed my stance about the whole ‘gender reveal’ thing, but at the time, we already “knew” we were having a girl. We had a bit of a rough start, but after a few days, we went home with a healthy little bundle of joy swaddled in a pink blanket.
This baby was born into a family that consisted of the two of us and two older stepbrothers. A few years later, we added a fourth little boy to the mix. All of our kids are what teachers dub as ‘active’ and ‘conversational.’ I’m a special education teacher, so I know that really means, “your kid won’t ever just sit down and zip it.” ADHD runs in the family, but given my profession, I felt pretty well-equipped to handle these particular kids.
Now, I have to pause here and explain my pronoun usage. Looking at this smiling little kid in bathing suits and dresses, it might seem like it doesn’t fit when I refer to this child as ‘he.’ For a while, it was really hard for us, too. We messed up a lot in those first few months. But I’m over the confusion. It took a little bit of time, but Lee is my son. To refer to him as anything other than that disrespects his journey and minimizes his courage.
So… back to the photos. Lee was a pretty typical kid, with a bit of extra energy. In hindsight, there were some signs that I didn’t pick up on.
Potty training was awful.
Dresses were a battle, and tights were impossible.
Also, Lee was never involved in any ‘girl drama.’ This starts super early, and when other mothers would try to intervene on their daughters’ behalf or clarify some perceived slight, I would always be the mom who was out of the loop. I came to realize that it wasn’t that my kid didn’t talk to me… it was simply that he wasn’t bothered by all of this ‘friend drama.’ He’d say things like, “Yeah. We used to be friends. But we’re not anymore. It’s not a big deal.” I thought my kid was amazingly resilient and perceptive. Turns out he’s just a guy.
I love this first day of school photo. I was so excited to pick out that outfit. Lee was not. He insisted… No Pink. No dresses. No ponytails or braids. I compromised in the best way I knew how. Purple frilly shirt and leggings with a headband. I loved it. He tolerated it. Unbeknownst to me, Lee was already raiding his brother’s dresser for more suitable clothing.
As a young child, Lee presented with some emotional concerns. Without getting into too much detail, we had some concerns about self-harm and possible depression. We worked closely with a psychologist, started ADHD medication, and continued therapy to try to help our child develop effective coping mechanisms for stress and anxiety. We had no idea what was really happening.
And then we got to third grade. In third grade, Lee developed a Minecraft obsession, which we totally supported. All of his friends were boys, which was fine with us.
His clothing began to be almost exclusively from the boy’s section, and he wanted to quit girl scouts.
When I probed more about that, he couldn’t tell me why. “But you love animals and art and all the things you do in girl scouts. Why would you want to quit?”
His only reply was… “Mom, it’s GIRL scouts.” I should’ve known then… but I didn’t.
The next big sign was the bathing suit. The summer after third grade, Lee absolutely REFUSED to wear a bathing suit from the girls’ section. He is an animal nut, and he wanted swim shorts with dogs on them. I tried to find dog themed suits in the girl’s section, but nothing was acceptable to him. We finally bought the dog-on-a-surfboard swim trunks and a swim shirt to match.
At this point, I was connecting the dots, but I hadn’t gotten all the way to the end of the picture yet. You’d think I would have finally understood the first time my child said, “Maybe we should just start calling me Lee” but I shrugged that off, too. Ha ha… funny kid.
So then we got to fourth grade.
You can see how he went to school- it was a very androgynous look. In our town, fourth grade was a new school, with some of the same kids and a whole bunch of new ones. So we sent him off to a new school, totally unaware of what was about to happen.
That evening, when I asked him about his first day of school, he was all smiles. “It was great!” He didn’t tell me much more, and I later realized that he left out one tiny little detail. He had transitioned without us.
When asked about nicknames by his new teacher, he had explained, “My real name is Leah, but I prefer to be called Lee.” It was as easy as that. This androgynous-looking kid had removed a syllable from his name and began living as a boy.
A few days later, he shyly asked if he could talk to me about something. He had a problem in school that day, lining up to come in from recess. He explained to me that the teachers had them line up in a boy’s line and a girl’s line. He went to the boys’ line (I wasn’t yet sure why he’d do that), and got called out by some of the girls from his previous school. He explained that he didn’t like that, and the light bulb finally went off for me.
I asked if he wanted us to call him Lee. I asked if he wanted us to use male pronouns. I asked if he wanted to cut his hair. He asked if we could get rid of all the ‘girly stuff’ in his bedroom. That night, we purged. Everything pink, purple, frilly… he gleefully shoved most of it into a trash bag. He kept a few cherished items to stick in a closet or hand down to his cousin, but there wasn’t any sadness about it.
The next day I met with the school guidance counselor. I was still processing all this myself, and I wasn’t quite sure what to say… but the school was wonderful. The very next day, they got rid of the boy/girl lines coming in from recess. They followed our lead on all of it- the name change, the bathrooms. They worked with us through every step of the transition. Our guidance counselor reached out to our local Safe Schools program and worked closely with their representative to ensure that they were following proper procedures and protecting Lee’s rights. We are so lucky.
And the transition began… First, the haircut. I think we were both a bit nervous. We went to a new place, where he was easily taken for a boy. There were no explanations necessary. When we left, I was amazed at how much that simple thing changed who he appeared to be.
In the next months, he had his first ‘boy’ birthday party. I realized what amazing friends this kid has. He’s been so supported by kids who stick up for him, stand by him, and genuinely enjoy him.
We made an announcement on Facebook, as people do these days. This is actually my all-time most ‘liked’ Facebook post:
“I count my blessings every day. Every day, in subtle or not-so-subtle ways, I am reminded of how incredibly lucky I am. And the thing I am most grateful for is my family. I am blessed to have my husband, who is strength personified. I am blessed to have a home and extended family and friends and four beautiful children. One of those beautiful children came to me, not so long ago, and shared something delicate and heartfelt and beautiful. Leah asked me to start calling her ‘Lee’ and using male pronouns, because ‘she’ wanted to be ‘he.’
And while I can’t say I was surprised, I had to work a little to hold it together. In my head, I cried for the loss of my ‘little girl,’ while my arms held my child and assured him that HE gets to decide who he wants to be. Each of us has that right. I trust that God has made my child exactly as he is supposed to be; perfect in his complexity, in his joy, his intelligence, and his perceptiveness. I am blessed to be able to learn from these amazing kids every day. I am learning the importance of being who you are, of loving with your whole heart, and of being tender and trustworthy. I’m trusting my facebook friends and family to learn these lessons with me (or kindly and quietly ‘unfriend’). If you have any questions, feel free to message me or call. Love to you all.”
Our family and friends responded with love and support and some respectful questions. We were blessed to have so many people willing to embark on this journey with us.
There was a lot of pronoun confusion in those first few months. We were constantly correcting ourselves and each other. It got to the point that every time I was about to use a pronoun (in reference to anyone), I paused just the slightest, to make sure I was correct.
Photos were hard for Lee. He wanted me to take down all his little girl pictures, and I fought it at first. “But you’re still the same person! Those are our memories!” I didn’t understand until one day, we had a new babysitter. Of course those photos had to come down.
He helped me choose more recent androgynous or boy pictures to replace the old pictures on the wall. It was a hard moment, but a good one.
The changes since transition have been drastic. He’s happier, he’s more outgoing, he’s willing to take risks. He has great friends, and he’s so much more confident.
Especially during the early phases of all this, we all needed a certain level of support. As parents, we were navigating totally unfamiliar territory. When I first found out, I reached out to a friend. She just happened to know another mom who had recently been through it. She asked if she could connect us, and I felt a wave of relief that I wasn’t alone. Our local PFLAG also has a parent support group that was invaluable to me in those first few months. I connected with parent groups on facebook, and we attended conferences, and Lee began to make friends with kids who were just like him. We weren’t alone. We found a great therapist, and learned about Camp Aranutiq. Lee’s time there has had a profound impact on him, and I can’t overstate how meaningful those weeks at camp have been.
Some things remain the same- Our kid is still our kid…
He’s still ‘active’ and ‘conversational.’ His teachers tell me all the time.
He’s still not an athlete, and he still loves theater and drama.
He’s always loved animals….
and our house has become a small zoo. We have two dogs, two turtles, a hedgehog, a guinea pig, and various fish… and on top of that, he spends his afternoons catching turtles and frogs and crayfish in the stream next to our house. He turns over rocks in the woods, looking for snakes and salamanders. He is full of curiosity and he’s the most observant, perceptive kid I’ve ever met.
I’m going to leave you with two photos that (I think) sum up the changes in Lee.
In the spring of 2014, we went Easter shopping at Target. No big deal. I just wanted to grab something decent to wear to church. My husband was there, too, and we were sincerely trying to get him what he wanted. No dresses. Nothing frilly. We just wanted him to grab decent pants and a sweater. Lee was distraught. Everything we showed him was met with disdain. “I’m not wearing that.” It was so frustrating! We wound up grabbing pants and a blue sweater.
I tried about a hundred times that Easter to get a good picture of the boys. This was the best of the bunch. My youngest is trying to get Lee to smile, but he wouldn’t. He was so obviously miserable the whole time he was wearing that outfit. He must’ve asked a hundred times when he could change. I just didn’t understand how clothing could make a person so unhappy. We all have to dress up sometimes. We don’t necessarily like it, but we DO it.
A year later, I finally understood. Easter 2015 was a whole different experience. Lee still doesn’t like to get ‘dressed up,’ but at least now, he’s not trying to be someone he’s not.