Showing posts with label Mothers Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mothers Day. Show all posts

Sunday, May 12, 2024

Earning Motherhood

 

Liz on left with me preparing to celebrate
Mother's Day with her son over a Margarita.
Photo by AJ Trumble.

To be clear, I never have asked for the honor of being called "Mother" from either one of my off springs. 

I have a daughter of my own who means the world to me and a step son who I love very much. I met him when I met my wife Liz and was accepted into his world immediately with no questions asked. 

My daughter started the Mother's Day ball rolling last year when I received a small gift and a Happy Mother's Day for the first time from her. Truthfully, I was brought to tears by the thought. I was forever finished with Father's Day. 

I consider the title of Mother to be the ultimate compliment and as I said, not one I take lightly. I also think being referred to as Mother represents a total erasure of all the years of testosterone poisoning and an unwanted male life I went through. It means to me, my immediate family sees me as a full fledged trans woman. I even respected my own Mom enough to use her first name as my middle name when I legally changed it. Even though she never approved of my gender transition. Even to the point of being a relatively harmless cross dresser or transvestite. Back in those days, neither one of us knew the depth of gender issues. I considered Mom to be a product of her generation (WWII/Depression) and moved on after her death. 

Needless to say, most of my gender journey was never easy and represented many roadblocks along the way. I can only say, I never expected to arrive where I am today. Maybe I should come up with another book and call it "From the Mirror to the World...A Transgender Journey." 

We shall see.

Saturday, May 13, 2023

I Made It

Liz on Left, Daughter on Right
from the Jessie Hart
Collection

Yesterday I received a special small box in the mail. Before I opened it, I truly had no idea what it could be except for the obvious...it came from my daughter in a relatively nearby suburb of Dayton, Ohio.

The only thing I thought the box could contain was something involved with the rapidly approaching Mothers Day celebration. It turned out my instincts or intuition was right and the box contained a really special coffee mug which said it was from my "favorite" child which was a standing joke between the two of us because she is my only child. Even though I only had one child, I could never have asked for a better one. 

Growing up, she had the benefit of having a village helping to raise her since her Mother and I divorced when she was quite young. She was accepted whole heartedly as part of our lives by my second wife as her strong willed Step-Mother so essentially my daughter had two accepting extended families. Plus when I moved around the country for new job opportunities, she was exposed to life in other places. I guess all of it worked to perfection because after my daughter graduated from college, she settled down with my Son-in-Law to raise my three grandkids. We enjoyed a good relationship until the potential problem of coming out as transgender raised it's potentially problematic head. 

I will forever remember the day I came out to her during a special breakfast we scheduled. Her reaction was? Why was she the last to know! From that point forward my child became my biggest supporter and she did things like schedule me an appointment at her beauty salon when my hair became long enough to style. Through it all, we worked together to get over my second wife's death, legally change my name to one which honored members of my family and other key moments in my life at that time.

The one thing which I never asked for was to be referred to as Mother in any way shape or form. So, in our case Mother's Day became "Parent's Day" and that was all good with me. Yesterday "Parent's Day" forever changed between us. Included with my coffee mug was a special hand written card. Unbelievably, the card said Happy Mother's Day in her hand writing. I immediately teared up. After all these years I had made it to a goal I never dreamed of achieving. Being called Mother by my daughter. I can only guess why the big change happened now. Perhaps it was because the last time I saw her we had a chance to sit down and just talk between ourselves, Liz and my transgender grand child.  Maybe my femininity showed through enough she decided it was time to do away with "parenthood" and move up to "motherhood".

All I can say is I am again beginning to cry tears of joy as I write this post. I am so fortunate to  have the family I have now. Especially since I have moved up to "Mom" . It took me nearly fifty years after I was present for the birth of my daughter to make it.  

Sunday, May 8, 2022

Happy Mom's Day

 I was going to be lazy today and simply reuse one of my former Mother's Day posts. Then I began to consider how my thoughts about my Mom have changed over the years. 


As I grew up, I did have a vague understanding of the difficult journey my Mom went through before she finally was successful in birthing me. She went through three still births that I know of before I came along. It turned out I was the first of two boys as my brother was born two years later.

As the years went by, it was increasingly obvious I not only resembled my Mom, we had the same personalities. 

None of this meant I was ever allowed to show any sort of a feminine side with her. I had to be a study from afar when it came to secretly watching her put make up on all the way to her mannerisms. 

It took me a long time to attempt to come out to my Mom. For some unknown reason I was able to successfully hide my stash of girls clothes and makeup I had acquired over the years from her. Or, as I have considered also she had decided to ignore my desire to dress as a girl simply as a phase. Of course we all know it all turned out to be much more than a phase, it turned out to be my life.

It took me until my Army days to begin to accept my authentic transgender self. In fact, way before there was even a term for it. In those days, I referred to myself as a transvestite and became brave enough to come out to a small group of very close friends following a Halloween party when I showed up as a woman. It was such an enlightening experience for me that I ignored the potential disaster which could have come to me if my superiors had found out. 

The whole process emboldened me to come out to my Mom once I was discharged from the military. One night after a hard evening of partying she was still up when I returned home. All too soon the topic somehow turned to my time in the service. Before long I told her the truth, I was a transvestite and I had felt so much better. The entire process was similar to a huge weight being taken off my shoulders. Somehow I was naïve and expected the same result from her.

What I received in return was she was in shock and disapproved to the point she offered to put me through therapy. Electro shock as I remember. Of course I not so politely refused and the topic was never brought up again the rest of her life.

I used to deeply resent her for her feelings but over the years I have mellowed after I considered the sacrifices she went through to bring me into the world. Age also helped me to understand many topics we clashed about were simply because we were so similar. Along the way she taught me important lessons such as determination and reliability. 

When I set out to legally change my name, I decided to adopt her name as my new middle name not so much to honor her but to show her in the end I had won my battle to live a feminine life as a full time transgender woman.  Now I feel even that idea has changed.

I'm glad I adopted her name now and view the whole process as honoring her. Thanks Mom! Of course she has long since passed on, so this is the best I can do. I hope your Mom is still with you and accepts your reality.

Dealing With Trans Rejection

Image from Jakayla Toney on UnSplash. Similar to so many transgender women or trans men, I have dealt with my share of rejections.  My first...