It’s hard, is what it is.
I don’t think it really matters much what it is that we’re letting go. As humans, we like our families, our communities, our stuff.
Yet, what happens when we have to let go of an image, a memory, a way of being seen, or of looking at someone or something or even some time in our lives?
I have found that a serious “reordering” of my emotions, my thoughts, my desires, my hopes, and my dreams has had to happen.
Never mind whether that what we are letting go of is painful or joyful or some odd combination of the two. Whether the memories surrounding what is being let go are old or new, somehow those memories do linger.
More than a few years ago, as a mother, I experienced a swift (at least to me) change in my child’s life. But really? The change was only swift to me — not to my child. To my child, the change had been coming for quite a long time, leading to misery, depression, isolation, and suicidal ideations.
You see, my child came out to us as a family as being a boy. While that may not sound so strange, to us it was a little. At the age of 40, I had given birth to a beautiful baby girl. At least outwardly, we witnessed that birth and growth through the years. I thought, “What a gift for this ‘old’ mother to be given!” Yet, the pain that ensued once that baby girl hit middle school became unbearable. To watch, and not understand, what was happening in my daughter’s mind was excruciating.
Fortunately, we were able to get help — all of us — in understanding the language and science around gender transitioning. Our beautiful baby girl became our handsome young boy.
I am here to tell you now that it is possible. It is possible to dig deep into the love that lives in our guts and say, “It’s more important to me that you are here, that you are alive than what gender you are.”
That last thing, that important thing of keeping the important thing top of the list made it possible for me, as mother, to let go as graciously as possible, and allow my child to thrive regardless of my own fears — I needed to be strong for him. Our family became a sort of fortified place for him — at least that’s how I saw it. While we all erred in our pronoun usage (God forgive us!) at times, our trans boy knew that he was (and still is) deeply loved. He also enjoyed the times, I believe, when he corrected us. Sometimes, out of irritability the correction was not that gentle. He would get tired of what he saw as our laziness. We would get tired of his unwillingness to realize that we were moving through a tremendous shift in understanding.
Grace. Grace. Grace. The grace of God is what kept us all from falling apart. The God of Grace endowed us each and every one with the ability to adapt, to transition when things don’t align within our bodies with what is in our souls.
I recently re-hung photos on the walls and set framed photos around the house that included both incarnations of our “baby.” Most of our friends see those photos and are ridiculously happy to see the joy in all of them — before and after the transition. I deeply love both my young men. Our older son who is drawn to a sense of protection of his brother and our younger son who is proud of his brother’s accomplishments. It is all so natural.
Being willing to go with our child through this transition process was all about bringing the natural to the fore and allowing the other to recede.
As I was placing all those photos around the house, I was drawn to remember the setting for each of them, the foretelling of the transition that was to come.
As parents, we did the best we could; we got the help we needed; and we thanked God that we did that in time.
As a mother, spiritual director, and prayerful person, I am honored to be available to those who might need a shoulder to cry on; ears to hear the hard questions; and a heart to help bear the most difficult decisions.
You are not alone. Really.
Spiritual director, author, wife and mother (not always in that order), Daphne Reiley has published two books — A Tapestry of Love, The Spirituality of Caregiving (co-authored with Rev. Dr. Joseph LaGuardia), and Love, Then Listen, Sharing My Son’s Journey Toward His True Gender, published by Nurturing Faith — with a third, Relentless Love, scheduled for release in Spring 2025.