"I'm a tenor in the choir but I sing a different song
Of how the where's and why's of now all prove I don't belong
But I'm staying I've planted seeds and plan to watch them grow
I've watered all my wishes dreams fulfilled more seeds to sow
And I promise to learn to love the way I've learned to fear
To unknot all the inhibitions tangled in my hair
To let my ego mound in piles around the barber chair"
Ego is the greatest impediment to progress.
That's something I've learned from working in the IT industry for years in Quality Assurance, but it applies as much to your personal life as it does to my professional. Your most difficult opposition is yourself, and the best advice in war is to know your enemy.
An acquaintance once told me I was the most self-aware person she'd ever known. I took that as a compliment. It's something I work at (whether I want to or not). Happiness occurs in only one place - inside your head - so finding it, in my mind (pardon the pun), involves a lot of self-reflection and soul-searching.
That's something I've learned from working in the IT industry for years in Quality Assurance, but it applies as much to your personal life as it does to my professional. Your most difficult opposition is yourself, and the best advice in war is to know your enemy.
An acquaintance once told me I was the most self-aware person she'd ever known. I took that as a compliment. It's something I work at (whether I want to or not). Happiness occurs in only one place - inside your head - so finding it, in my mind (pardon the pun), involves a lot of self-reflection and soul-searching.
Which makes it the opposite of toxic masculinity, really, and spells how machismo is a surefire path to struggle and despair. Manly men are supposed to just do, not sit around thinking about feelings. But without reflection, without becoming self-aware, self-improvement and real happiness will always remain outside your grasp.
And if thinking about things is the opposite of manly just doing, I'm about the last person Nike should ever consider a spokesman, and perhaps the least manly man you know. Because thinking - including about myself, what makes me tick, what makes me feel, what makes me happy or sad - that's what I do. In fact, it's an irrepressible habit nowadays. I probably couldn't stop if I wanted to.
And if thinking about things is the opposite of manly just doing, I'm about the last person Nike should ever consider a spokesman, and perhaps the least manly man you know. Because thinking - including about myself, what makes me tick, what makes me feel, what makes me happy or sad - that's what I do. In fact, it's an irrepressible habit nowadays. I probably couldn't stop if I wanted to.
It would behoove a great many people to do a little more of it.
More importantly, there's a particular group of men that I'd like to invite to do a little more of it, because they need to. Actually, their kids really need them to, even if they fail to understand it's in their own best interests.
My child coming out as trans was incredibly transformative for me. It's been a unique gift to me from my child for which I will be forever grateful. It has been the impetus for me to really dig deep, and to find some things about myself that needed to change and evolve and grow, to root out and destroy antiquated notions, and to become a better person. Coming to terms with my child coming out has made me a better person and I eagerly look forward to writing my "v46" post later this year. But today is not about me, or him.
Many moons ago, I joined a support group for parents of trans kids. The first session I attended I went because I needed the emotional support. I had just found out. I was struggling to make sense of things. I needed information. I was ignorant. I have no problem admitting that. Most people are. It's been a while now and I still have things to learn, but that's ok: it means I have room to grow, and that's a good thing. I cried about it, probably for the first time. I needed that.
The second session I attended I went more so for the "technical support". We needed information about drugs and medical procedures and paperwork and name changes and schools and camps and bathrooms and swimming and on and on. It's extensive.
By the time the third session rolled around, Liza-Ann asked if we actually needed to go, because we were no longer sure we had anything to take away. I suggested it was our chance to pay it forward, to be those supportive people we found when it was our first or second session, for others who'd be coming for the first or second time. Ours had been a pretty positive experience. Things were on the right track for us. I wanted to be able to provide hopeful examples for others struggling.
For many sessions, this was our primary reason for going.
When we reached a point where we definitely felt like we'd "paid it forward", I reached a point where I was now the one asking if it was something that needed to continue. This time it was Liza-Ann that suggested to me a very good reason to go: because he sees me going. While Dan may not be privy to what gets discussed in that room, he understands that my attendance there is about supporting him. It's about talking, but also about listening. It's about learning. I've often said that 'time is the only real commodity; you don't know how much you have left.' Seeing me take the time out to go to those meetings is visible evidence of my commitment to supporting him. So I continued.
During that next session, I realized there was another - tragically-ironic - reason I should be there:
I was the only man in the room.
I'm not getting into all the details of why exactly, because what gets discussed in that room stays in that room, but if I could - and perhaps even unfairly - summarize my conclusions, it would be that fathers seem to have a far harder time coming to terms than mothers do, and that I blame that almost entirely on toxic masculinity.
I'm not suggesting these non-attendees are all misogynistic, homophobic, knuckle-draggers, not at all. I'm sure most are just everyday, average guys like me. Rather, I'm suggesting that people always care more about what others think than they should and that machismo and institutionalized misogyny (on the part of both men and women, I've come to find) are invisible cancers that run far deeper than we realize. And they are resilient. They are so very resilient.
What I'm asking of these gentlemen is simply this:
Dig deep.
If you have a problem with the idea of your child being transgender, the problem is yours, not your child's. The problem occurs inside your head. The problem is your way of thinking. You are the problem. Don't tell me it's because you don't understand or don't know how to be supportive; I'd have met you at the meetings already, asking questions, getting the answers you needed. It's because you don't know what it means for you or you're afraid of what it says about you. It's about your ego, and ego is the greatest impediment to progress. Is your ego that fragile you'll risk sacrificing your own child (or in the least your own relationship with them) to protect it? You've been a prisoner to yourself for too long.
You need to start digging down deep and asking yourself "why?" And if you have the courage to keep asking "why?" often enough and long enough, with the tenacity to dig far enough, you will find those cancers. Why does your child's gender matter? Why does gender ever matter? Why does society feel this need to always put everyone into these tidy little boxes with labels on them? What's so hard about words like 'they' or 'person'?
When you've dug deep enough to find these cancers within yourself, all this programming instilled in you as a child, you will find with it an opportunity to begin the process of excising it, and an opportunity to grow and evolve as a person. You will find a way to come to terms with your child and what this means for your future together. You will find a way to be supportive and to become a better parent, at the same time you become a better person.
You will find an exhilarating freedom I cannot begin to describe.
Rise up.
Discard the bullshit you were spoon-fed by society as a child. Poke the house of cards built on lies. Read. Learn. Explore. Experience. Relax and let yourself be fascinated by the many splendors of a complex world.
Rise up.
But first, you will need to dig deep, really deep, and that takes courage. So if you're ready to do this - and I say this about as ironically as one can -
It's time for you to man up.
More importantly, there's a particular group of men that I'd like to invite to do a little more of it, because they need to. Actually, their kids really need them to, even if they fail to understand it's in their own best interests.
My child coming out as trans was incredibly transformative for me. It's been a unique gift to me from my child for which I will be forever grateful. It has been the impetus for me to really dig deep, and to find some things about myself that needed to change and evolve and grow, to root out and destroy antiquated notions, and to become a better person. Coming to terms with my child coming out has made me a better person and I eagerly look forward to writing my "v46" post later this year. But today is not about me, or him.
Many moons ago, I joined a support group for parents of trans kids. The first session I attended I went because I needed the emotional support. I had just found out. I was struggling to make sense of things. I needed information. I was ignorant. I have no problem admitting that. Most people are. It's been a while now and I still have things to learn, but that's ok: it means I have room to grow, and that's a good thing. I cried about it, probably for the first time. I needed that.
The second session I attended I went more so for the "technical support". We needed information about drugs and medical procedures and paperwork and name changes and schools and camps and bathrooms and swimming and on and on. It's extensive.
By the time the third session rolled around, Liza-Ann asked if we actually needed to go, because we were no longer sure we had anything to take away. I suggested it was our chance to pay it forward, to be those supportive people we found when it was our first or second session, for others who'd be coming for the first or second time. Ours had been a pretty positive experience. Things were on the right track for us. I wanted to be able to provide hopeful examples for others struggling.
For many sessions, this was our primary reason for going.
When we reached a point where we definitely felt like we'd "paid it forward", I reached a point where I was now the one asking if it was something that needed to continue. This time it was Liza-Ann that suggested to me a very good reason to go: because he sees me going. While Dan may not be privy to what gets discussed in that room, he understands that my attendance there is about supporting him. It's about talking, but also about listening. It's about learning. I've often said that 'time is the only real commodity; you don't know how much you have left.' Seeing me take the time out to go to those meetings is visible evidence of my commitment to supporting him. So I continued.
During that next session, I realized there was another - tragically-ironic - reason I should be there:
I was the only man in the room.
I'm not getting into all the details of why exactly, because what gets discussed in that room stays in that room, but if I could - and perhaps even unfairly - summarize my conclusions, it would be that fathers seem to have a far harder time coming to terms than mothers do, and that I blame that almost entirely on toxic masculinity.
I'm not suggesting these non-attendees are all misogynistic, homophobic, knuckle-draggers, not at all. I'm sure most are just everyday, average guys like me. Rather, I'm suggesting that people always care more about what others think than they should and that machismo and institutionalized misogyny (on the part of both men and women, I've come to find) are invisible cancers that run far deeper than we realize. And they are resilient. They are so very resilient.
What I'm asking of these gentlemen is simply this:
Dig deep.
If you have a problem with the idea of your child being transgender, the problem is yours, not your child's. The problem occurs inside your head. The problem is your way of thinking. You are the problem. Don't tell me it's because you don't understand or don't know how to be supportive; I'd have met you at the meetings already, asking questions, getting the answers you needed. It's because you don't know what it means for you or you're afraid of what it says about you. It's about your ego, and ego is the greatest impediment to progress. Is your ego that fragile you'll risk sacrificing your own child (or in the least your own relationship with them) to protect it? You've been a prisoner to yourself for too long.
You need to start digging down deep and asking yourself "why?" And if you have the courage to keep asking "why?" often enough and long enough, with the tenacity to dig far enough, you will find those cancers. Why does your child's gender matter? Why does gender ever matter? Why does society feel this need to always put everyone into these tidy little boxes with labels on them? What's so hard about words like 'they' or 'person'?
When you've dug deep enough to find these cancers within yourself, all this programming instilled in you as a child, you will find with it an opportunity to begin the process of excising it, and an opportunity to grow and evolve as a person. You will find a way to come to terms with your child and what this means for your future together. You will find a way to be supportive and to become a better parent, at the same time you become a better person.
You will find an exhilarating freedom I cannot begin to describe.
Rise up.
Discard the bullshit you were spoon-fed by society as a child. Poke the house of cards built on lies. Read. Learn. Explore. Experience. Relax and let yourself be fascinated by the many splendors of a complex world.
Rise up.
But first, you will need to dig deep, really deep, and that takes courage. So if you're ready to do this - and I say this about as ironically as one can -
It's time for you to man up.
"And make a graceful exit from my vexed and troubled years
I've decided I've been invited to my own resort
Where knights can leave their armor neatly piled by the door
And every woman, child, and man will gather by the shore"
