I Have to Leave You Here

It’s been almost two years since I took you to the airport. You were 21 and moving to a new city to yet again try to restart your life. Nevertheless, new beginnings are at least hopeful. As our son, we saw many new beginnings. As a boy you loved trains and adventure. In school you were curious and developed a love of history and science. But also, you had trouble sitting still in your classes. Such was the struggle we had the rest of your childhood and adolescence. You are wicked smart but struggled to complete assignments and tests. It continued in your early college years, and the disruption of COVID killed what little progress you made.

Right before your 18th birthday you told me and your mother that you wanted to change your sex and live as a girl. Someone, somewhere, somehow convinced you that this was the answer to your problems. Of course it was a shock to us. Nothing in your previous 18 years led us to suspect this. And thus began a journey into the dark recesses of your mind and soul. We soon saw how the promise of escaping your body was a lie you believed more than anything we could do for you.

And so, at the airport, when you got in the security line to move away from your hometown, I had to leave you there. It was more than a ride to the airport. It was more of a good-bye. Although we are not completely estranged, you are ever more distant from us, physically, emotionally, spiritually. It was just a month ago that you told us you felt lost. We join other parents of PITT in the prayer sessions and wonder from afar how you are doing.

In the same way that men and women are different, so are mothers and fathers. As your dad, I thought I was training you in the joys, rituals, and struggles of manhood. Not as an identity but as a person using his strength to help others – which I believe is the definition of masculinity. But something went terribly wrong. The deep pain in my gut when I think of you mirrors the love I have for you, along with your mother. We dearly hope, pray and long for a day when you will turn off the path you are on and stop trying to fight your own humanity.

Until then, I can only fight for other children caught in this cult. We help other parents caught in the same vise, and make our voices known in the public square. In addition to that, I am drawn to a father’s version of “touching grass” by voraciously consuming the reality of the natural world and my own body. I crave the dirt in my hands from planting vegetables and nurturing orchids. I marvel at the miracle of sourdough and our weekly trip to the local farmer’s market to find sustenance for another week.

I have lived long enough to know that anyone's hopes or fears of the future can and do change in dramatic ways. My life’s bible verse is Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”. I believe this for me and I believe this for you.