StoicMom: A Weirder Lens

I have to say, being the parent of a trans-identified child has definitely been the most crazy-making, rewarding, infuriating, enlightening, confusing, reflective, destabilizing, vulnerable, galvinizing, humbling, I could go on, experience of my life. 

Hmm. Do you think most mothers would say this about parenting a teen? Somehow, I think that while ours is truly a uniquely precarious and messed-up situation, the highly invested/attuned parent whose teenagers–excluding the extreme pleasers, maybe–are individuating, would share many of these sentiments. Okay, maybe not to the same extent, but come on! I’m sure you’ve recognized for a long time—like since you birthed your first child—that mothering is simply a profound human experience that cannot be understood by one who hasn’t carried a child in her womb. I’m currently rereading one of my favorite books, Circe, a novel by Madeline Miller—an author who is also, obviously, a mom. Who else could write this line that so clearly captures the drama of becoming a new mother?

My madness in those days rose from a new certainty: that at last I had met the thing the gods could use against me.

This experience with my daughter brought to me (along with other weird gifts like the shattering of my ego) the life-changing work of Lisa Marchiano, and I share this quote with all of my coaching clients:    

Being a mother will tire us out, fill us with dread, and move us to tears. It will inspire joy, self-doubt, hilarity, contentment, rage, terror, shame, irritation, inadequacy, grief, anxiety, and love. We will probably see ourselves at our very best – and our very worst.

She didn’t write this just for moms of trans-identified teens. Seems we don’t have the corner market on the heart-wrenching job of mothering. I hope I don’t sound insensitive, but let’s face it: being a mom is the hardest thing.

But the weirdest part of all this for me? Well, it’s going to take some explaining…

You probably know my tagline: “Using my daughter’s transID as inspiration to become a better human.” As you can imagine, I get some hate for this on Twitter since it’s clear, mostly from my retweets, that I reject this new authoritarian belief system that promotes body hatred and institutionalized self-harm. I get some interesting DMs from people who are sure I’m going to hell, or will at the very least be abandoned by my child who is obviously suffering severe emotional abuse in my home, and I’ll be left to die alone.

And unless you’re one of my clients or someone I’ve interviewed, or one of the very few family members or close friends that I’ve told about this site, you don’t even know my name. You know my voice both literally from the podcast and through my written communication; I’ve shared vulnerable details of my life with you, but you wouldn’t know me if you passed me on the street.

Photo by Josh Blanton on Unsplash

Humbling, while being oddly comforting. And definitely weird! At least for me. I’m so incredibly proud of this work. This StoicMom project that has bloomed quickly in… what’s it been? Six-ish months! Do you know how hard it is to answer people who ask me what I “do”? I usually divulge that I am a coach and a writer–and now tentatively I include that I’m a podcaster–but then I hem and haw and redirect when pressed for more information on what I write about and who I serve. 

Actually, I guess I do tell people irl. But only once I’m confident they know me well enough to know that there is no world in which I (or you) could legitimately be called hateful, or a bigot. When I share with them about StoicMom, I follow up quickly with: I hope my work is soon obsolete. And I do. The sooner, the better! A bit weird, right?

I really like to fancy myself a writer; I’ve started several blogs that never really took off. I’ve shared some of the previously published posts both on StoicMom and my subpub: SM’s Essential Concepts. Ironically, those once dead posts now make up (along with more recent reflections) my paid content and are what allow me to create and offer what I consider my most helpful (at least in this weird situation) content for free. I do my best writing—okay, tbh, I only write—when inspiration hits and I’ve turned down invitations to write for other publications because I don’t do well with “assignments.” Very grateful that ideas seem to overflow these days–and hope this particular vat of inspiration runs dry soon.  

I recently had Felice J. Killer on the CftT (pronounced See Ef Double T) podcast. When I invited her, she enthusiastically accepted! She let me know her husband had commented, “All your dreams are coming true,” because she’d always wanted to be interviewed on a podcast. I related hard and was taken with her amusing honesty about this. I’d often fantasized about having my own podcast. It seemed the perfect gig for me since I love talking with interesting people and was so certain I’d have excellent interviewing skills! It’s been quite a wake-up call to cringe at listening to my own voice and recognize that it doesn’t all come as naturally as I thought it would, especially when I know it’s being recorded for an audience. And I’m having the most amazing time talking with brilliant women and sharing those conversations with you. 

I struggled to find my niche as a life coach. Here’s what happened: I recognized the executive director of the school where I was working was a tyrant and I refused to subject myself to his abuse. My mom asked what I would do if I left teaching, and so I Googled, “what do school teachers who want to leave teaching do?” The only thing my search turned up that I found interesting was life/executive coaching. I got certified but was stumped for who I could best serve with these new skills. I had some mild success offering workshops, masterminds, and retreats for women in business–but I was a total beginner “woman in business” so I always felt like a fraud.

I had no legitimate wisdom to offer these women who’d been navigating the business world much longer than I had, but I found I had a knack for creating environments where they could support each other, and I had an obsession with human nature, avidly collecting and sharing resources for personal growth. And then I had my foundations ripped away from me, and I knew true darkness.

I became a wreck that could not, in good conscience, continue to call myself a life coach. Then I scrambled and clawed my way out of the gender depths, earning with my own blood, sweat, and oh so many tears the right to bring these skills and insights to the amazing moms who now find themselves submerged in the same murky, suffocating swamp. (Shout out to one of my clients for that swamp metaphor! You know who you are.) Discovering a higher path for myself and then doing my own work to get closer to the light is what gave me the wisdom and confidence to believe I could help others do the same. I’ve even been granted a listing on GETA!

And this work of coaching moms through what I’ve come to believe is a developmental phase of motherhood (arriving at the awareness that this individuation is not just the work of our children, but a dynamic that involves as much if not more work on our part to allow our daughters to separate from us) feels really important. The last few weeks of sessions have been filled with profound breakthroughs; I’m writing this through tears as I just finished another intense and amazing call. I had this essay written and ready to go, but I had to come back and add this paragraph to try to express in words how it feels to be beside these absolutely brilliant women/moms that have invited me into their journeys, into this deeply profound work they’re discovering. To my clients: Thank you for trusting me and for opening yourselves to this work. I am so incredibly humbled to get to witness the emergence of your truest selves. Womanhood is indeed precious and powerful and I am in awe of all of you. I love and am so grateful that we’re in this together.

Whew! Okay. Maybe that paragraph didn’t belong in this essay, but it was bursting out of me. Inspiration hit!

Are you picking up on the irony of all this? How weird (and admittedly awkward) it is that my daughter’s trans journey, the thing that seems to be undoing so many families and wrecking so many lives is what has brought me the most self-awareness and freedom; has given me the opportunity to maximize my own skills and experiences to create a better quality of life; and has inspired what is easily the most important work of my lifetime (yes, including my own inner work that will never be finished.)

I’m not sure how I “should” feel about all this, but I’ve never been one for shoulds, and mostly I feel amazing. I’m grateful to my recent guest, Levana Benabe, and her powerful statement, “There’s never been a dark moment in my life that didn’t bring me closer to the light.” And this from a woman who has known much darker moments than I can even bring myself to imagine. I’m going to ask the question again, “Is it okay?” Levana and Felice, plus my amazing clients, and all the other incredible women that this tragically inspired project has brought into my world, help me feel like it is. 

So, maybe you’ve figured out where all this is going? I was indeed inspired to write this piece as a way to announce something very exciting. 

There’s a not-so-subtle hint in the title. 

Maybe, you’ve guessed it?

I’ve been invited to be a guest on Gender: A Wider Lens! We’re recording the episode in October, though I don’t yet have a release date. I was originally told it would be next year sometime, and I had the weird (and oddly comforting) thought, that might be too late! We can hope, right?

I’m beside myself excited about this interview, and—I promise—sufficiently nervous! I’m quite certain I’ll mess up most of the things I want to communicate and of course, I’m going to do it anyway! You’re here, so I know you know exactly what podcast I’m talking about. You certainly know their names: Sasha Ayad and Stella O’Malley. This is quite possibly the most well-known and important podcast for those who occupy this upside-down world of parenting teens who have forgotten what boys and girls are, and it’s hosted by two of my heroes who helped me recognize the light at the top of the deep, dark, swampy well so I could move toward it.

Maybe those ancient Stoics were on to something…maybe the obstacle is the way. And, that said, hopefully StoicMom will be a fleeting endeavor…weird.

p.s. another weird part: you understand, definitely more than most anyone who would know me if they passed me on the street, why this is such a big deal. Thank you for knowing—and for understanding. That’s probably how you found your way here, and why you stick around. For now, at least.