For my they/them student
Today I feel sad. I have been socializing lately, having drinks with parents who speak proudly of their young adult children who are off to college, or are starting promising careers. Other parents prattle on about adorable grandchildren and big family get-togethers at beach houses. I smile and politely ask for details, but I have nothing to add to these conversations. What would I say? My estranged son is still working a minimum wage job and poisoning his body with cross-sex hormones. I can’t confirm that he still has all his body parts. I will probably never have grandchildren, but maybe that’s better: I’ve read that trans-identified men who have children are often abusive narcissists whose B-cluster personality disorders are impermeable to therapy. We can’t afford a beach house, but who cares since there would be no family to gather there? It might seem like wasted potential that a young man whose IQ used to be in the 97th percentile now scrapes by working the cash register in a store, but after years of taking estrogen, his intelligence might be just average now, freeing him from the burden of high expectations. As I smile and nod at these people, I start to wonder why I bother to socialize at all. I got married to have a family, and I don’t have one. I really don’t have anything positive to add to these conversations. I am a black cloud casting a shadow on happier lives. What am I even sticking around for?
My they/them student: The other day in French class, students were taking turns choosing prompts for speaking practice. Someone chose: “Would you rather be single and wealthy or poor and married?” Everyone else answered “single and wealthy,” but you said, in decent French, “I’d rather be poor and married, because I don’t really have anyone and so I need someone.” I have observed that when the auditorium seats fill up for an assembly, the seats on either side of you are always empty. When all the students mill around outside a closed door, waiting to enter a room, you are the only one with no one to talk to, and you don’t know where to look. The top bun you used to wear has been replaced by a boy’s short haircut, easy to spot among the rows of identical highlights worn by the other girls. What I notice most about you is how mature you are. You’re an old soul surrounded by kids who are doing everything they can to fit in. There is nothing unpleasant about you, and the other kids probably have nothing against you; it’s just that you don't share their experience, and it's awkward. I want to say to you: Don’t worry. It hurts now, but it won’t always be this way. Just keep being yourself, and someone will find you and love you exactly the way you are.
For today, I will stick around for my they/them student. I wasn’t able to help my own son, but maybe I can help her.
I've always been an introvert, I recharge with beauty and/or solace. My wife is a social butterfly who charges from other people, and the energy they create. We have 2 great groups of friends that my wife will plan for us to party with nearly weekly. It is often done at our house where we will cook dinner. Since the estrangement from our daughter now living as a breastless bearded man, I do enjoy the parties, however they are something I would never want or plan for on my own. I know I need people and it is best for me, but like this author the pain I feel when friends go on and on about their children and grandchildren while I politely smile and nod, is difficult. "As I smile and nod at these people, I start to wonder why I bother to socialize at all. I got married to have a family, and I don’t have one. I really don’t have anything positive to add to these conversations. I am a black cloud casting a shadow on happier lives. What am I even sticking around for?" It is sad, however my wife and I are adopting a foster child that has no one that will take her and she is beautiful, we have had her since she was 6 days old and she is now near 2.5. We are in our mid 50's so this is a daunting task. But this beautiful little girl that no one wanted has given me more reasons to treat myself as if I were someone I loved. So that I can be my best for this little girl, my youngest daughter. So I have that and I am grateful. We both are, all 3 of us are. Her name is Grace, we call her Seregrace. The adoption process takes a bit through DFCS but should be final late this summer. Her biological mother gave her those names which we will honor. Thanks be to God.
My heart breaks for the lonely, shunned teenagers, who are such easy prey for the trans cult.