I am so sorry she took this opportunity and wasted it. Parents acting this way to their own children still angers and saddens me, even if it no longer surprises me. I gave up trying to understand a long time ago.
Instead, I am adopting you (in this virtual forum) and sharing the letter I sent to my own daughter when she sent us her letter. She still presents as male at the moment, but is in the process of transitioning.
Please take a very big virtual hug, too. You are bold; you are brilliant; you are beautiful.
Message me anytime.
Love, Adopted Mom
Dear [NAME],
Trusting your words, but not your voice (literally), you recently sent us a letter to come out as transgender, telling us you’ve known since your young, teenage years.
I read your words and was so proud of you. Your anxiety must have been immense, but you set down on paper who you are. I have always told you about the power of putting things in writing. The words, whatever they are, can’t be taken back — they’re out there. Sure, they can be clarified or explained, but never erased. And you sent them to us.
When I saw you next, part of me wanted to tell you that I’ve known about this part of you for a long time, maybe for longer than you acknowledged it yourself. But I didn’t because I didn’t want to take a chance on taking any part of this moment away from you. It takes a lot to gain self-awareness like this. It takes yet even more to tell someone, let alone your parents - let alone again to put it in writing.
And as to that, there is something else I’ve told you all your life, or a variation of it. You may no longer be a baby, but you will always be my baby. That’s not meant to infantilize you; it’s a promise. Transgender or not, you could change your name from the one I gave you, and you would still be my child. You can live with me or move 2,000 miles away, and I will be there for you, because you are my child. My sweet, funny, witty, smart, awesome child.
When I saw you next, I didn’t say any of that either, and then one of your siblings came into the room, and I couldn’t address any of it at all. In your letter, you asked that we not say anything. We would never have had intentions to do so; that’s your right, so that request is more than easy to honor. I look forward to the day when you can be authentic with them as well, but that will take some time, I think.
All I could do at that moment was give you a quick, tight hug and whisper to you, “I love you, and your father loves you, too.” I hope you read into that hug and words all that we feel, and that you know that we love and support you.
And we would also put that in writing, if you wished. 😊
You’re welcome. ❤️