How will you know?

I wrote this one up pretty quickly yesterday, but I find myself hesitating to publish. There may be some important caveats to acknowledge: my daughter lives at home and is not college-bound (to which I say, whew!) She’s now 18 and the shift described here happened post that bday (but I wonder what would have happened had I gotten here sooner…) I say often throughout this that my way is an experiment and there are other important conditions in this experiment (described in my other essays.) But as we all know, experiments are risky. On the risk spectrum, I hang out on the tolerant side.

I think I figured something important out. It happened during some recent client sessions where, though it seemed most things in the present of these women’s lives were going along swimmingly, including whole weekends of “happy”, they would end their reports with “but you know, things are still bad.” (That’s a very short composite summary, of course, the full stories were much richer and more eloquent because these are smart, well-spoken women.)

“Why? What’s bad?”

“Well, she still thinks she’s trans.” 

It hit me that many moms are determining their quality of life by the status of their teen’s identification. This has become the sole yardstick by which they measure their entire existence. 

I realized that the driving purpose for most moms in our situation was to get their child to desist. I always make it very clear when I have a prospective client that I cannot help them get their teen to stop identifying as trans. That’s not what I do. Not only did I make this commitment to my own daughter (who I’m pretty sure still insists she’s a boy,) but I don’t think it’s a productive goal. 

Before I get back to the business of measuring, let’s look at another reason you may not want to make this your #1 priority. If your life revolves around this sole focus, guess whose else does? The more you cling to this outcome, the more your kid clings to transitioning. It sets you up as adversaries and someone will eventually have to “win” making it harder for your child to quietly let this go. Can you quietly let it go first? Modeling and energy, modeling and energy–this is my m.o. It’s an experiment, but it already feels so much better. More on this in a minute; to explain why it feels better requires me to get back to how we appraise our current state of being. 

When this realization hit me–that moms were so focused on this one potential (and terrifying outcome) that they weren’t recognizing (or allowing) today’s moments of joy and pleasure, or these experiences were dulled because to allow the fullness of these positive emotions was to be vulnerable and to invite pain down the road–led to the “aha” that the standard being measured against might the problem. 

Photo by Liam Nguyen on Unsplash

There’s this weird idea out there that as long as your child is still identifying as trans, this means you are somehow failing. Like this is a pass/fail experience. This brings to mind Is it okay? and helps me understand some of the pushback I get on that. I think maybe there’s this hang-up around “failing,” that maybe we deserve shame if we haven’t yet figured out how to get our child to desist. As long as they identify, they’re on this pathway that will lead to utter devastation (I think we need to reframe this too,) and until we successfully pivot them, we are not entitled to feel good. 

Now I want to be clear that I understand there’s a grief process involved that inhibits good feelings. This is an important part of this journey. As moms, we have to be able to let go of the vision we had for our children’s adolescence/young adulthood. I might sound like the TRAs here, but this was always a fantasy that had plenty of ways it could go south. We can’t just blame gender ideology and the schools (though I fully believe the state of our current culture is the source of this misery) and stew in that anger and resentment, giving up and giving away our power because, trust me, your kid is going to want nothing to do with that. Make sense? Now we’re modeling victimhood. 

We do need to grieve what we had hoped our relationship with our maturing children would look like; the bond that we nurtured so carefully that it seems they’re determined to stomp and grind or choke us with. This may need to be the topic of another essay, but this is the start of that legitimately painful individuation. We so consciously created healthy attachment, and our children are biologically wired to separate from us. We must let them. And it hurts like hell. For awhile…until you experience the freedom of the separation. Then, I know it’s hard to imagine, but I promise, it actually feels good. I think maybe this is the work of this phase of motherhood. This is our individuation, when we can recognize and separate our work from theirs. Moving through this grief might sometimes feel like you’ll never see the light again. But you can do it. Find a mentor, this part’s hard! 

Also, I want to distinguish between letting go and cutting off; between growing up and giving up; between separating and pushing away. Between being caring, supportive, and available vs. defended, cold, and dismissive. (Thank you to the amazing woman who helped me develop this idea and put language around it. You know who you are.) The key is to do this all in a way that a reciprocal, respectful relationship emerges between you and your adult child; one where, ideally, she cares about you and you still have some influence.

But back to the topic at hand…In this essay, I explain what I see as the importance of broadening what we think of as success stories. We hear the “marathon” analogy all the time. I’ve never run a marathon, but there’s got to be benchmarks along the way, right? I don’t love competitive any more than I love war analogies, because again, we don’t want to set up a win/lose scenario. That said, isn’t the person living a sedentary life who then trains for a marathon (even if she comes in last) entitled to enjoy her new good health? Maybe she didn’t finish the race, maybe she never even made it to the event, but now she’s much stronger, has more endurance and energy, a new sense of vitality; if she allows herself, she’s now living a totally different experience than she did before she used the marathon as motivation to change her life. Is hers a success story? 

I’m not trying to get my teen to desist. That’s right, I’m not even trying to win her, I mean, the marathon. I stopped trying a while ago. You know why? Because I can’t. Only she can do that. Yes, there may be some magic thing I can say that will shift her thinking, but I cannot make her do anything. If this is her individuation strategy, then I need to do my work to let her go. Otherwise, this strategy becomes even more important to her. Make sense? It does to me, but I’ve already admitted this is an experiment. And she got me to train for the marathon! Now, I am more embodied, I have things that I’m excited about, I laugh easily, I allow joy and when I check in with myself, my heart feels full, I have confidence that I can figure things out, and I have confidence that she can too, I know where she ends and I begin, I can have empathy for the pain in her future but that pain is separate from me (though I will still feel it with her,) and some of it, at least, is necessary. 

One part of the experiment is this: If I’m not hellbent on getting her to desist, does she still have the need to be hellbent on transitioning? If I can show up and be clear on my boundaries, and if she senses I’m no longer her “enemy,” trying to control her outcomes and who she is, if I’m not the obstacle to her desires, is she still just as driven to prove something to me, to reject me, or to “not be mine anymore” as Dr. Maggie Goldsmith (pseudonym) says was her daughter’s goal in this interview on Wider Lens. Maybe it’s not the case in all situations, but I’m willing to bet that if you had a good relationship with your kid before this, if this isn’t about trauma or same-sex attraction, then odds are, this is about individuation. Until she senses you’ve freed her to grow up, this strategy may be all she’s got. 

But I’m veering away from the point which is this: So many moms have been at this for awhile, training for this Godforsaken marathon. Maybe it’s time you let yourself enjoy some of the results of those efforts? Maybe it’s time to shift your focus and get back to Life, because dammit, you’re missing out! How many years will you sacrifice to this? 

You can’t have your goal be about someone else’s life, or you’re doing the same thing they are by trying to get others to see them as trans. Do you see? You’re focused on something beyond your control! This is a recipe for unhappiness. As we’ve told our transIDed kids.  

I’m not trying to get my kid to desist. This isn’t my goal, so I don’t wake up every morning feeling like a failure. I get to feel good about the training I’ve done; the work I’ve done, my individuation work. If you change your goal, you now have different benchmarks. You might find you’ve earned all kinds of quality of life! You might find that your focus shifts away from something out of your control to things you can actually do to feel better. You might even find that you’ve been training for this marathon for some time and if you allow it, your experience could improve tuh-day. 

How will you know how you’re doing? (I got asked this recently so I’ve been thinking about how I know.) Can I make some suggestions? Maybe pick a few of these questions to give you a baseline. Then you can check back on them occasionally to gauge your progress: 

How often do you laugh?

How often does your heart fill with joy or love?

How often do you enjoy the company of good friends? Family members? 

How often do you experience awe and wonder? When was the last time you did something to remind yourself of the majesty and magic of this planet you get to play in? This universe you’re part of?

Have you had a hug today? Two? Three? Who can you go hug right now? 

What is the quality of your relationship with your husband? Your kid? Your other kid? Your self? 

Do you want to get up in the morning? What are you excited about? 

Do you feel tuned into your body’s sensations? Do you feel confident that you can soundly interpret and act on them? 

Do you feel stable and guided by a solid compass? Can you describe your values? 

How affected are you by the moods, words, actions of others? Do you take on other people’s problems? Including your kids…  Personally, I think you can start working on this much sooner than when they turn 18. The sooner you do, the sooner they’re ready to take on the world. Jenny Cyphers recommended this book, and now I do too.

Can you recognize when you’re getting triggered and analyze why? (hint: it’s always about you. If you’re getting triggered, it’s because you’re triggerable. It’s also great information to help you with this work!) 

Are you fully present when you’re with someone else? Especially your trans-IDed kid. Or are you time-traveling to that terrifying future? (Listen to Amy’s description of fear vs. anxiety beginning at 34:00. It’s gold.) Do you have curiosity about who she is becoming or are you convinced she’s ruining her life and you have to save (or worse yet, fix) her? Yes, I know these last few questions take us out of the scope of this essay. Lots of moms benefit from some support with these.

The future is coming regardless, and I just don’t see how it’s useful to focus on an outcome you can’t control. Remember, the world doesn’t need martyrs, and our daughters need models. Let’s rock womanhood in a way they want for themselves. 

I want to promise that it’s okay and you deserve it. But I guess that depends on your goal.