Is it time to let go?

The purpose of this Substack is to offer support for families who are navigating the dangers of adolescence with their TransIDed children. I think it’s important to remember that this has always been a precarious phase in life. Puberty and the accompanying tendency toward reckless behavior presents a biological rite of passage that, when you really think about it, is quite miraculous to survive, let alone thrive on the other side. For those of us who thought we were thriving (and those who already knew they weren’t) before trans ideology wreaked destruction in our homes, I would ask that you reflect on your own adolescence. ‘Nough said?

When we take the pressure of adults demanding that you choose a path that will lead to their version of success while peers are luring you toward all sorts of new and intriguing experiences that have thus far been taboo, add in a brain that’s in a developmental phase that’s downright shitty at risk-assessment and long-term planning, and it’s easy to see that teens are set up for tremendous pain, confusion, and yes, danger. With the latest cultural additions to this hazardous liminal space, mostly related to the online world: a place filled with both magical experiences and lurking predators, both mind-bending wonders and mind-altering rabbit holes, and it’s a wonder anyone emerges out the other side even remotely functional, let alone healthy. 

I know many of my readers are those who are determined to do whatever it takes to get their children safely to the adult starting line, and some might even hope to continue to control their adult children’s outcomes. Of course, we do this out of intense love for them (and, dare I say, an unconscious biological wiring to ensure future progeny?) I’m also going to propose that there is also a deep but misguided attachment to ensuring our children live happy, easy-ish lives.  I have some bad news here. If you haven’t already figured this out, happy is a temporary state. It’s not a permanent way of being nor would we want it to be. I believe Life is to be experienced in all its richness, and that humans need exposure to the full range of that experience so that when blindsided with devastating tragedy, it doesn’t destroy us. Adolescence is probably precarious by design/through evolution to develop some of this needed resilience to get through Life’s extreme challenges. 

I’d also like to propose a different goal. Instead of shooting for ‘happy and easy-ish’ for our children (or even ourselves, for that matter) how does ‘satisfying and meaningful’ sound? I picked up this phrase from a hero and mentor of mine, Peter Gray, one of the directors of letgrow.org, who also blogs on Psychology Today about the problems with today’s education system and the importance of play for healthy development.  I don’t want to spend too much time here, at least in this essay, but maybe consider whether that resonates and how different it might look and feel to create a satisfying and meaningful life rather than aspiring to the impossible (and boring) ‘happy and easy-ish’ but also "successful”—whatever that means.

Finding Nemo was released in theaters in 2003 and came out on video when I was pregnant with my now transIDed daughter who is the oldest of my two children. I hadn’t watched an animated film in years at this point and thought I might want to see what children’s entertainment had become since I would soon be the mother of one–a child, I mean–and I figured I’d need to get used to more appropriate films than the Quentin Tarantino-style genre I adored so much at the time. 

I was so surprised by how much I loved Finding Nemo! In fact, it remained my favorite movie for years and was one of the first our daughter watched–probably at around age 3– over and over…and over…and over... It’s funny, our copy of it didn’t start at the beginning–it started after Nemo’s mother and siblings are eaten by the barracuda. Not on purpose, but I remember being grateful for that late start that shielded my beautiful and innocent daughter from the disturbing (but very important) plot point.

Hmm. That was an unexpected rabbit hole–about the beginning, I mean–but it’s relevant, isn’t it? If you’ve watched the movie and you remember the plot, you probably have already figured out where I’m going with this. Nemo’s father, Marlin, spends the movie searching for his only surviving son, who he’s fiercely protected since the tragic loss of his mate and Nemo’s (hundreds? thousands?) of unhatched siblings. Meanwhile, Nemo is off having his own harrowing adventures, away from his father’s anxious energy, rapidly developing grit that he hasn’t been allowed to up until a certain set of external circumstances separated him from his highly protective father. 

It’s lots of fun with engaging humor and positive messages throughout, but the scene that always made my heart swell and even ache a little, the one that captures the movie’s main theme, happens inside the whale when Marlin is desperately clinging to the whale’s tongue to keep from falling into the abyss of the giant animal’s stomach, paralyzed with fear that he’s about to die and won’t be able to save his son. Then his accidental companion, Dory, who suffers from a disorder that doesn’t allow her to make long term memories and keeps her perpetually suspended in a state of innocent (and often unfounded) optimism, relays to him, with all the blind faith in the world, what the whale is instructing: “It’s time to let go!”

Marlin cries out with desperation, “How do you know?! How do you know something bad’s not going to happen?”

To which Dory cheerfully replies, “I don’t.”

Of course, everything turns out in the end with Marlin being much more open to Life’s richness, not only because he’s learned to trust but because Nemo has had the opportunity to prove he can handle much more than his father was willing to let him attempt. Their relationship is healthier and Nemo doesn’t have the same resentment or need to push back as he did before circumstances offered an opportunity for both Nemo and Marlin to grow.  It’s a happy ending, but we all know that things don’t always end this happily. Sometimes they end quite tragically. But to believe we can control the ending–I think that’s where we need to get better at letting go. It’s much easier to do if we can tap into some of Dory’s trust–maybe not that all will be as we hope, but that we’ll survive it.

I think it’s also important to point out that while the movie ended when this set of circumstances resolved, we all know Life doesn’t work that way. Of course, that’s not actually the end. Nemo was still just a young child and who knows what challenges lay in store for his adolescence? How’s Marlin going to handle it if some new underwater technology-driven cult captures Nemo’s fragile ego and underdeveloped brain and leads him to believe he’s actually not a clownfish at all and here, have these incredibly risky and experimental procedures done to permanently alter your perfectly healthy-but-not-for-long clownfish body? (Yes, I recognize the irony of talking about clownfish here.)

Funny, this is not what I thought I was setting out to write about. Sometimes I go to explain what I think will be a helpful concept and realize that there is more foundational information to cover first. I had planned to introduce another reframing angle that may help you start to develop that practice of trust that I believe is so crucial to navigating this particular set of extreme circumstances in a way that not only doesn’t wreck you but will result in you being even more solid on the other side. (I’m hoping this is an attractive outcome to you?) I’ve also got some related and hopefully helpful attachment concepts I want to dive into, meaning there’s a couple more essays already in the works headed your way.

I think you get the main point of this one, even if the extent of what I’m encouraging is difficult to grasp. What I want to make sure you know before you go is that I am NOT saying you need to let your child do whatever they want and that because they insist they’re trans, you need to affirm that and capitulate to demands that you know are unhealthy. Boundaries and structure are still important. There remain very real dangers we have the power and responsibility to protect our reckless teens from.

But maybe start thinking of things you’re holding on too tightly. Where are some areas you can practice more trust (more on how to do this soon.) Where can you begin to allow rather than work to ensure your intended outcome? Can you start to see your child as less of an extension of yourself and more of a unique human, separate from you, who will experience plenty of pain and discomfort not only through this precarious phase known as adolescence but at least periodically throughout adulthood–and must in order to mature and live a satisfying and meaningful life? 

You may be saying to yourself, “There’s nothing new here. I know all this. I was doing this!” I would just then encourage you to reflect on whether you’re truly practicing what you already know. I say this because I know how I am. I can totally know and understand something, and even think I’m doing it, until my kids reflect back to me that I’m not, or that it’s time to let go of a bit more. And every time, I end up better for it, and more peace enters my life. Are there still things I’m too attached to and project onto my kids? Pretty sure, yeah. I think this might be what this phase—parenting an adolescent human who is preparing to take flight—is all about.

So if you’re getting triggered (gripped with fear, anger, worry) during interaction with your teen or even just when thinking about her, maybe pay attention to the feeling. Dig a little deeper and figure out what’s really underneath it. What do you not trust? Your child? Yourself? Is there something that you can let go right in that moment?

Okay, just food for thought for now. More soon! And please, comment! Did this resonate with you? Did you experience resistance? Do you need me to expand on anything? Was it helpful at all or did it just frustrate you?