Why me?

And why my family? These are common questions that moms ask themselves when they discover their child has adopted a trans identity seemingly out of the blue. What follows is some intense and crazy-making rumination as we mentally comb over our child’s younger years, scrutinizing the choices we made, beating ourselves up for any potential error in judgment that might have been the “pivotal moment” when things took a turn in this direction. 

I’d say this is our human reflection mechanism–brilliant for helping us learn and avoid future mistakes–on overdrive. I think it’s also a way to attempt some control over a turbulent situation that robs us of our parenting confidence, leaving us feeling unmoored and impotent. If we can blame ourselves, we have somewhere to direct these destabilizing feelings and we’re justified in our depression. Hopelessness is a really scary place to land for any length of time. If this is where our meaning-making leads us, and we get stuck in this place, we indeed become victims of this circumstance. 

Stoics believe we can’t control external circumstances, only how we respond to them. They also encourage using the “obstacle as the way” or taking the most difficult things in our lives and using them to learn more about ourselves, and to figure out how to grow bigger than our problems. 

When I was thrust into the situation of parenting a trans identified kiddo, it wasn’t the first time that I found myself behaving like a victim. I was able to recognize the sense of impotence and self-pity that I was drowning in and knew this wasn’t the role model I wanted to be for my daughter. I became determined to find a different way to answer this question, “Why me?” 

As a result, I shifted the focus away from the seemingly impossible task of rescuing my daughter and began to look at my own life through a different lens. If this circumstance was the obstacle, then what the hell was the way? And where was it leading me?

So maybe what we’re really doing here is changing the question. This has come up in our online discussions at the SMP Center this month as we’re exploring the topic of Focus. I also talk about the power of changing the question in Lesson 2 of helpful concepts along the way (This course is now known as the Foundations Course and is only available to members of the SMP Center.) Because we tend to find what we’re looking for. If you look for reasons this is happening to you, you’ll probably find plenty and this evidence that you’re a victim will certainly impact the quality of your experience. 

But if you change the question, you get different answers and now you’re headed in a whole new direction. What are ways to change this question, “Why me?” to affect your outcomes for the better? I demonstrated this a bit above by adopting that Stoic notion of obstacles and ways and playing with that. Another simple way to change this question is to ask, “What am I meant to learn from this?” or even simpler, “Why is this happening for me?”

Or how about “What is there to be grateful for in this circumstance?” People seem to really bristle when I offer this one. Yet we know that a well-honed gratitude lens is a common trait among people who are generally happy and stable regardless of external circumstances. Maybe this one’s a bit much, or maybe it’s too soon–I think that’s legit. 

“What would it look like for me to get bigger than this problem?” 

Photo by Amd Creation on Unsplash

Really, with all these questions, you’ve got to be ready to ask them. I think there’s an important grief process that parents have to move through, then at some point you realize that you’re gonna go down with the ship if you don’t change course and find a lifeline. 

I think I asked all of these questions plus some as I was clawing my way out of the darkness. I find that I’ve returned to the elegant simplicity of “Why me?” Only now this question has taken on more of a spiritual connotation than a victim-y one. For me, it’s become a question rooted in a new found faith that I’ll come back to in a minute. 

So, why me? 

Prior to this circumstance, I was grappling with a life that wasn’t in alignment with my values. This has really forced me to get clarity on those. To test the values that I thought I held and to discover that yes, they do indeed work for me and I need to find ways to live in better alignment. It’s inspired me to take bold steps I might not otherwise have taken; and I’m pleased to share that I’ve made great strides toward my vision of a Life of less consumption and more meaning. And that vision is clearer than ever, the path to get there opening up before me. Kinda wild, actually. 

I’ve also always been fascinated with the human experience and this has given me context to really explore my understanding of what drives our behaviors. It’s led me to take deep dives into ideas like attachment, communication, compassion, faith, and to feel ever more confident in my optimistic view of humanity. It’s broken my heart open and given me a new appreciation for the richness of Life and a confidence in my capacity to ride the waves of extreme emotion. 

And speaking of faith, I now recognize what a prominent and positive role this plays in my life. I’m not a religious person; I don’t believe in a deity, but I do have a religious-like faith in Life. I think nature has endowed us with mechanisms that reward us when we’re living well. I think our bodily sensations communicate to us when behavioral changes would be beneficial, and when we have a strong relationship with our selves, we’re attuned to these signals and know how to interpret them to support healthy decision-making. If this is how we move through Life, we don’t have to be afraid of extreme feelings–they become useful information as we navigate the landscape. 

The world is changing quickly, and I want to be intentional about how I show up and what role I play in the monumental shifts taking place. I know the world I’d like to see emerge from the chaos and division that seems to reign supreme at the moment but can’t last forever. I want to do what I can to contribute to peaceful solutions that recognize and honor the human capacity for creativity and cooperation. 

I think when more of us have clarity around our values and the courage to live in alignment with them, the more peaceful the world will become. Because it starts with ourselves. It makes sense to me that we have to find inner peace to meaningfully contribute to calm and any sort of sustainable order. I believe our tendency to project our pain and discomfort onto others, trying to control (or dare I say, legislate) what others do with their bodies and their lives, is bound to backfire. 

So back to those other questions about the obstacle and the way. For me, this was the way to an open heart, to discovering what curiosity and compassion and authenticity really look like, to recognizing what I can and can’t control, to faith, I’d even go so far as to say to inner peace (though for me at least, this doesn’t mean a complete absence of intense emotion, or self-doubt even, but rather a sense of personal integrity and faith in my capacity to roll with whatever Life throws my way.)

I think some get the sense that by shifting my focus away from trying to steer my daughter’s experience to taking charge of my own, that I’ve somehow given up on her. My perspective is so different now that this idea is difficult to unpack. In some ways, I have given up–I’ve given up on my attachment to what her experience needs to look like. I’ve given up on trying to persuade her she’s wrong about who she thinks she is. (In fact, I’ve given up trying to persuade anyone that they’re wrong about anything or at least that’s my goal.) I’ve (mostly) stopped beating myself up over things in the past that I can’t change. And I’ve stopped letting anyone else have power over the quality of my experience. Essentially, I’ve given up on being a victim of this circumstance. 

Yet, I think this shift I describe communicates a number of important things to my girl: One, that I can’t control the experience of others, but I can take charge of my own–I think this is important to model for her. Two, that I trust in her capacity to move through difficult things and figure out what works best for her. Three, that we never stop learning and growing, and it’s never too late to change course and let go of a strategy that’s not working to better our lives. And to expand on number Three a bit, seasons in our lives come and go, and we can choose to make meaning of them in ways that enhance our experience. 

I’ve done my best to communicate that I have faith in her and her ability to navigate Life and that when things go to shit, as they inevitably will–regardless of a person’s identity–I’m here for her. Recently on the phone with her, I acknowledged her scrappiness, and it was so clear that she loved that compliment. I know I take this strategy to an extreme that others are uncomfortable with–it’s what works for me and is aligned with my values. I think it’s important to listen to your gut and trust your knowledge of your kid–no one knows that human like you do. 

All this said, I would never give up on my beautiful, clever, sensitive, scrappy daughter. (And I would never encourage you to give up on your child.) But I can rest in the knowledge that I did my best to give her a childhood full of learning and fun experiences and love, and now I have to have faith in her and trust that she’s doing her very best to figure out how to be in this oh-so-strange time and place we inhabit. 

I could go on and on like this, but I’m starting to stray from the topic. To wrap up answering that question, “Why me?” Essentially, in my own way, I was imploring the Universe for guidance right about the time my daughter stumbled onto this strategy. It may seem a cruel way to give me what I’d requested, but I can’t deny that this circumstance (literally and often) brought me to my knees and to get back up I had to figure this shit out. And I’m so much better for it.  

Are you ready for some different questions? Have you already started asking them? If so, please share in the comments! What’s working for you? What are you discovering about yourself and your capacity to move through this hard, hard thing?