Behind Closed Doors

Photo by Luke van Zyl on Unsplash

My trans-identified adult daughter and I speak frequently, and we see each other regularly, both at home and out in the world. I’m deeply grateful for this development, which I attribute largely to choosing the path of connection. (This path invites me to practice compassion, courage, and calm so I can support my daughter as a person beyond her trans identity.) Sometimes I wonder — if you saw us in a restaurant or on the street, would you think that I am instead affirming her trans identity?

The short answer is yes. From the outside, it might seem like I affirm; it might even seem like I celebrate her trans identity based on how much I delight in being with her. Our moments together range from easy conversation and loud laughter, to heated banter and strained debates. We have a strong relationship, and so it might look like I fully champion her transition. But that is not the reality.

Do I wish she would live in the reality of her being a woman? Yes. Maybe more often than I should. But I also accept that she is living in a culture that allows her to think she is trans and often rewards her choice. As I’ve previously written, despite my wishes, I cannot control her decision. But what I do have a choice over is how I react to it and think about it. I find this deeply challenging as a mother, and so I have had to reorient myself to our relationship.

Lately, I find comfort in the fact that my daughter is still choosing to share her life with me. She trusts me, even as I continue working on habits that support our relationship. Mostly, I focus on becoming the mother she needs me to be.

It helps, especially in the darkest moments, to remember that I am not alone. There are a great many parents struggling with supporting their children in a way that is both healthy and loving. And I continue to be curious about how others are managing life with adult trans identified children. At times, I have to remind myself, as I see other families navigating this new reality, that things are not always as they seem. Here’s an example of what I mean.

A few years ago, before my daughter adopted a trans identity, she had a circle of college friends, all of whom were queer or trans. When she first told me that her friends’ parents were happily using their new chosen pronouns, I assumed that these parents got on board either because they agreed with the trans identity or they did not want to lose their kids. (Again, this was before my child chose to adopt a trans identity.)

But then, when we all took our kids to lunch together, I discovered that things were a bit more complicated. A couple of the parents used their daughter’s preferred pronouns (mostly “they”) in front of their daughters, but then switched back to female pronouns when their daughter was not present.

The lesson for me was: don’t assume that parents are doing what their kids think or say they are doing. According to my daughter, her friends’ parents were embracing their new pronouns, and I took this to mean that they were affirming trans identity. But I did not realize then how complex navigating this new reality can be. By just observing these parents, I could not know how they were actually managing.

Of course, behind closed doors, every family has its own values, habits, expectations, and strengths. It’s up to us, the parents, to determine what will best support a healthy relationship, and hopefully, in the end, guide our children to a healthy life. We can’t know what goes on in other families simply by observing. It helps to talk to other parents who are managing this new reality.

Ultimately, we cannot do right by ourselves or our family if we simply copy and paste what others are doing — or what we think others are doing. There is much less conformity than may appear. The hard work of staying on the path of connection requires us to be true to our own values and our own children.

At this point, the best I can hope for is that my daughter has a healthy life, and that she includes me enough to let me help guide her. It’s what I wish for all of my adult children.