Agents of Futility

So, this term, “Agent of Futility” came from a parenting class offered by the Neufeld Institute. It was an excellent class that aligned well with my understanding of attachment, giving me additional concepts and language to support the intuitive parenting style I seemed compelled to use.

I absolutely agree with Neufeld that, as parents, we have given far too much of our power away. We live in a system that has frayed the natural attachment between children and their biological caregivers–the ones who care most about the healthy outcomes of their children. Nature’s system of a lengthy childhood with trusted adults who are biologically invested in getting their young into adulthood evolved beautifully and resulted in–for those capable of healthy attachment–our feelings of deep love and commitment for our young. 

For a culture that “farms their children out” to spend their days with strangers, it is not surprising then that the attachment bonds created are frayed, producing children and teens who are confused about who they’re supposed to follow, listen to, look to for models of healthy human behavior. Especially when the education system is opposed to the values of the parents. 

In the book Neufeld co-authored with Gabor Mate, Hold on to Your Kids, (a must-read for the parents of tran-IDed teens, imo) the authors also discuss how this confusion is a contributing factor to “peer-oriented” teens. It’s been a bit since I read the book and I can’t remember if they touch on this, but as a proponent of more self-directed education models, I would argue another way our school system contributed to this dynamic was by segregating children into classes of same-age peers–an unnatural state not seen outside of the school system. For more on my educational (and parenting) philosophy, check out Control vs Influence and other pieces at SM’s Essential Concepts. (An annual subscription to StoicMom’s Newsletter also gets you access to the paid content there.) 

This is not an essay intended to summarize Neufeld’s work but I do believe some of this context is generally helpful for parents of teens. If you haven’t already, please consider reading Hold on to Your Kids if you’d like to learn more about “peer-orientation”, its dangers, and how to prevent or address it with influence rather than control. There are great tips! I don’t agree 100% with the authors; I still think kids need more trust and freedom but I agree that they also need confident parents who know how to lovingly set boundaries and do so from a place of patient authority. 

Bringing it back to the title phrase: Agents of Futility

In his class, Neufeld spends much time on attachment. It’s not a class that teaches you tricks to get your kids to do what you want them to. He doesn’t prescribe any particular boundaries. His premise, which I wholeheartedly agree with, is that attachment is everything. Parents are naturally wired with the necessary intuition to raise their own children. Unfortunately, our culture has robbed us of this intuition, creating doubt in parents about their ability to raise their own young without some “expert” telling us what to do. I have lots of thoughts about how this happened (this is more the focus of SM’s Essential Concepts) but the bottom line is we need to reclaim our authority, mind our attachment to our children, and invite them to depend on us to do our jobs as parents and get them to adulthood with their capacity to function as decent humans beings still intact.

Here’s the catch: as the parent, it’s your job to determine what that means. You create the structure and set the boundaries based on your values. Being clear what those are can go a long way to the necessary confidence to keep your child parent-oriented. Children can sense when you doubt yourself and will seek leadership elsewhere (peers, teachers, TikTok, etc.) if you’re not confident in your authority and clear and reasonable with your boundaries. 

I also very much agree with Neufeld’s philosophy on the importance of how you hold these boundaries. To use punishments and rewards is to lord your power over, increasing the likelihood of triggering your child’s counterwill (and however that shows up, though it usually results in the opposite of what you’re aiming to achieve.) It’s important to position yourself alongside your child, having sound reasons for the boundary, and be their comfort as you also act as the Agent of Futility. 

Neufeld discusses the capacity for ambivalence as being a major indicator of maturity. As we guide our children into adulthood, careful to not wield our power over but to protect our children from dangerous forces by setting boundaries and remaining firm, helping them to always understand why something is “off limits”, they learn to process the emotions of letting go of something they desperately want. They grieve the thing, and this can look really messy. It can be really difficult for parents to act in this role, especially if they can’t bear to see their child in deep pain. When they’re little, this may seem less heavy–like when “the thing” is a second cookie or an expensive toy. 

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

As they get older, “the thing” can become ever more risky, like a desire to be the opposite sex. There it is–the reason for this essay. Not so long ago, being the Agent of Futility on this one would have been a piece of cake. No one would have thought such a thing possible. Unfortunately, now we have markets creating supply, which in turn has created demand. 

Yet, I think we can still act as compassionate Agents of Futility. I know many of you have used this same strategy with your trans-IDed kids. Here is a version of a neutral delivery of the futility:  

“Honey, you’re part of a novel presentation of people with gender dysphoria. In the past it was mostly boys who wanted to be girls who received these extreme treatments. We have no long term data to tell us whether teen girls who undergo medicalization will do well in the long run. Right now there seem to be plenty who are happy with the changes they’ve purchased but there are also lots of girls who regret having irreversible surgeries and the health complications of taking testosterone.

Without more data, or at least a test to tell us whether you’re one who would benefit from such treatments, it would be irresponsible for us to allow these extreme and invasive procedures that will negatively affect your healthy body. When you’re an adult you can make these choices for yourself, but we would hope you’d wait until your brain is closer to full maturity before taking steps that will affect the rest of your life. 

We would also hope that you would do comprehensive research to ensure the best possible outcomes for your future self. We’d be happy to help you with this. We trust that you will want to act in accordance to what will be healthiest for you, and when you get closer to 25 and have clearly done thorough research to understand the full impact of medicalization, we will support you to do what you feel is best.” 

I don’t remember exactly how I said this, but essentially it was this. She tantrum-ed a bit, and maybe I’m telling myself what I want to hear, but I’m pretty confident she’s relieved on some deep, maybe unconscious level, that we set this boundary. This conversation was about 3 years ago and not one of the more hysterical conversations where I was desperate to persuade her of the harms. I just outlined the facts as the Agent of Futility and was there to comfort her as she processed through them and let go of any hope she had that she’d be one of the special trans teens whose parents “got on board” and got her a prescription for puberty blockers or testosterone. 

She’s turning 18 very soon, and I’ve even gone so far as to say that if she does proceed with surgeries that I want to help her find the best possible surgeons and will help pay. You may be shocked, but know that this was strategic. It allowed me to also say that there are predatory surgeons who just want to make money off “trans” people, and I don’t want them touching her. She nodded solemnly in agreement. I also know that I am in her head. She doesn’t need me to repeat, yet again, that as her mother I will advocate for her healthy body. She knows me well and knows that I do not believe that she is actually, somehow, a boy, and that invasive medical procedures with sketchy outcomes is the way to be her authentic self. 

I hope she’ll come to me before embarking on a journey into the medical world of dangerous interventions. It’s so ironic that by modeling the values I had hoped my family would embrace, I’ve created such a dilemma when it comes to her individuation. I am definitely still angry at the forces in her life that sabotaged me and biological reality as the Agents of Futility when it comes to what’s possible for a girl—that they lie to her and encourage her to believe she can be–no, is somehow–a boy. It’s difficult to not pine for a world where family attachments are recognized as the strongest bonds, crucial for healthy development. It’s hard not to see who benefits from this destruction of the family.

As her birthday approaches, I ask myself often if I’ve done everything that’s available to me right now to protect her and to encourage her to keep her healthy body intact. When I reflect, so many actions I took (or didn’t take) seemed to backfire–I guess it still remains to be seen. I am grateful for the many examples of badass mothers who’ve done the work to release their adult children to the painful journey ahead. (You can listen to inspiring conversations with two of them here and here.) I am grateful for the conscious growth this experience has forced me to embrace. 

I continue to do my best to make peace with what seems like the unthinkable outcomes. I still want StoicMom to be a place for parents to visit when they’re looking for an experience different from the rage and desperation so many of us are gripped with so much the time. I also want to be honest, and model what it means to have a human experience that is filled with ambivalence. Knowing I can’t continue to force my values, that I have to accept my daughter has, at least for awhile, chosen a way of life that seems so harmful to me. And all that said, what’s on my mind right now is, have I done all I could? Is there anything left to say? Have I missed anything? Could I still snap her out of this? Did I protect the pathway home and for her to reclaim womanhood? Have I…could I…did I…? This line of questioning is probably all too familiar.

This may not be one of those pieces that ends in gratitude and hopefulness. My mood is a little darker this morning as her 18th birthday barrels toward us. (It’s also quite possible that I’m spending entirely too much time on Twitter.) If my daughter proceeds with extreme body modification through wrong-sex hormones and surgeries to amputate healthy body parts, I’ll not forget those who acted as the Agents of Futility in my attempts to protect her (and my whole family) from the devastating heartbreak I believe these procedures will lead to.

I’m struggling to end this piece (which I started some weeks ago and it’s been sitting in my Drive; you can probably tell about where the tone changes.) My brain keeps trying to get me to reframe this—to reiterate I trust in her and her journey. I know attempts to control her outcomes are exercises in futility. But fear keeps creeping in—or is it a nudge? I guess I’m recognizing there’s still more for me to do to “let go” or maybe it’s not yet time? Ugh. It’s amusing that this started out an essay on confident, intuitive parenting. Sometimes it’s hard to read the compass!

June will be very full for us with graduation, both kids’ birthdays, some travel to see friends and family. I do have more “Conversations from the Trenches” scheduled and will publish to the podcast. The only things I’m certain of at the moment are that it will be a very interesting month and on the other side of it my trans-IDed daughter will be an adult. Here we go…