A discussion about having a transgender Son and the pursuit of being a supportive mother and a good Ally.
Mum, can I ask you a question? It was around the age of seven or eight that my child said this, and most parents would brace themselves for questions about babies and sex or some other embarrassing question about bodily functions, but my child already knew all that and had been asking questions from the moment they could talk. Once at the age of 5, they proudly announced to a pregnant mum outside the school gates that the lady had a baby in her belly as a man had put his penis inside her vagina! I was literally saved by the bell that day as I quickly hurried away ignoring the shocked faces of the other parents, oops.
I had always fully and honestly embraced all questions and was used to questions ranging from why an ant has six legs, to what is a wormhole? But the question I was asked that day turned out to be the most difficult to answer. ‘Mum, why am I a girl’?’ How would I answer that? I could take the easy route and talk about vaginas, hormones, biology etc., but my child already knew about all that, so I figured there was more to this. Did the presence or absence of what hangs between your legs really label who you were?
Clearly looking back this was the start of a journey of self-discovery for my child and the start of my own journey to understand and support this awakening as much as possible.
By the age of nine, my child refused to wear dresses or skirts, having been quite ‘girly’ growing up, they now preferred leggings, trousers and t-shirts. Later, my son would explain that he wasn’t really girly, just didn’t recognise himself as anything at all and was ambivalent to what he wore or played with. He doesn’t even remember ever asking me that all important question either. He still now wears whatever takes his fancy and never has conformed to stereotypes. ‘What you wear doesn’t define you, mum, just wear what you feel comfortable in’, he says.
Over the next few years there were questions about sexuality and relationships, and I started to change my language to show subtly that I could be trusted with their thoughts and feelings should they wish to share them with me. By the age of thirteen it was obvious that my child recognised themselves as possibly gay or asexual and with that there were lots of thoughts and questions about gender. I began to suspect that they were not comfortable in their body, but I didn’t want to assume anything and decided that I would let my child take their own journey. This is a decision which I later greatly regretted, as I now realise I could have helped him more if he knew how I felt. My Son has a similar view. He agrees that it would have been nice to have been told that I knew, so he could have explored his sexuality and gender while feeling like he was safe and supported, but ultimately, he felt that this had to be his own journey that he needed to do without interference.
"I started to change my language to show subtly that I could be trusted with their thoughts and feelings."
So, it wasn’t until about sixteen that there was a request to call them by a different name, but only at home. By this time there was a clear understanding that they identified as male and that they didn’t feel comfortable in the body they were assigned at birth. I would love to say that this was easy for me, I mean, I had sensed this for years and the conversations between us meant he never really had to come out to me as I just knew, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a weird sense of loss and grief. I felt overwhelmed for a while as I started to think about the daughter I was losing and worried about how I would introduce my child when he still looked quite feminine (having unfortunately been cursed with a curvy shape and an enviable pair of boobs, much to the annoyance of his younger more athletic looking sister!). These thoughts led to anxious feelings about his future. Life is hard enough without having this added struggle. How would he meet someone, would he want to have surgery, how would he navigate the world? However, sharing these fears and thoughts with others, not least of all my Son, helped me to understand more. I realised that life had already been hard for him, trying to understand why he didn’t feel comfortable, going through puberty, feeling anxious and self-conscious about who he was, and wearing a mask every day.
I started to try to imagine if I had been assigned male at birth, how would I feel now if I was living as a man but felt so completely a woman inside? I know I would be scared, lost and exhausted keeping up the pretence. Research showed me that surgery is not the only option, that gender and how you feel inside is the most important thing to many people. I learnt that only a relatively small percentage of people elect to have full surgery and I also realised that love really has no bounds. There is no reason that my Son could not have a loving relationship.
"Sharing these fears and thoughts with others, not least of all my Son, helped me to understand more."
It didn’t take me long to understand that my first born was never my daughter, he was always my Son, I just didn’t know it. There was no grieving necessary, nothing had changed at all, he was still my lovely, quirky, funny, lazy and sometimes annoying child!
The journey continues and now he identifies as male and non-binary and does not conform to the social constraints of gender. The difference is that it’s now me asking all the questions as I try to keep myself educated in this changing world. It’s important to me that I understand and use the correct terminology, to educate others, and to be an Ally but without assuming I know what people are going through. So, I keep asking questions; what is the best way for me to support not only my Son but anyone else around me that might be struggling or need a safe go to person? How much do I need to understand? My Son says that all I need to do is be there, to speak up when I hear any form of homophobia or transphobia and most importantly to be open to everything. So that’s what I try to do.
"It’s now me asking all the questions as I try to keep myself educated in this changing world."
But that doesn’t mean that I have not made mistakes, I often do. Outing my Son to my family before he was ready was a huge mistake, done with good intentions to show my Son I supported him, but nevertheless something that hurt and upset him at the time and something I regret. In writing this, he told me that he felt cheated out of telling his news, that it wasn’t mine to tell and felt sad that he couldn’t tell his family himself, and he’s right. I now think about what I say and do very carefully and always ask his permission before talking about his journey. I was immensely proud when my Son asked me to choose his middle name, he felt that as his Mum, I should have the chance to be involved. I was honoured that he trusted me to do this, and he is very happy with the name I chose with the help of his sister.
So, all in all, this is not about whether you agree or disagree with how someone feels or how they identify. Even with all the questions, it’s not about understanding everything or if you make a mistake by saying the wrong word. My Son has a good way of putting it, remembering his Great Gran who passed away just over a year ago aged 98. ‘She never questioned anything’, he said, ‘she didn’t try to understand, she just accepted me and never failed to call me by my chosen name. That meant so much’, he said.
So, one last question - what have I learnt? It’s simple really. It’s just all about respect and then everything else follows.
Sarah Chuter
(She/Her)
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