Proud Then, Proud Now: How I Stopped Tying My Worth To Other People’s Opinions Of My Trans Child

I remember the first moment when I felt it, the sensation that “A baby will make me more beautiful, more shiny.” I was a 10-year-old sitting in church, an old Atlanta AME Zion one to be exact, and I was watching babies being passed around during service to a grandmother, godmother or an auntie, while the choir sang and the preacher preached.

The proud mother was being beckoned by relatives to “Give them to me!” Emphatically, relatives would offer to soothe, shush, and feed these bouncing babies. As the mothers carried their beautiful bundle of joy to waiting arms, the women had that glow. I wanted to be that mama. I wanted to have that glow. That delight.

The desire continued as I saw Demi Moore on the cover of Vanity Fair in all her fertile glory. The year was 1991, and from then on, children were not just an adorable blessing but a full-blown fashion statement. As years passed and social media became the center of our world, that was solidified. Why, you aren’t really a star until you are the proud owner of an Instagram account for your child that you carefully curate.

All of that attention, in retrospect, screamed, “Look what I did! Look who I am.” Motherhood as one’s identity. These children certainly have big stilettos to fill, and even more so if you’re Black, with the banner of “Black excellence” and the need to achieve it hanging over their heads.

So it’s no wonder, with this level of expectation, that parents panic when they have a child who strays away from the binary, away from the supposed societal norms.

That’s what happened to me as I tried to work with my 6-year-old daughter. A dress to school? No, thank you. A Disney princess costume for Halloween? Nope! Hair, posture, resting face, pleasantries? No, no, no, no. Besides tussling over her clothes, my daughter and I had a wonderful relationship, but as she grew, so did the conflict between us. I felt like I needed to make her into the young lady of my visions, who matched my expectations.

I worked constantly to hide her ever-growing boyish ways. It wasn’t until a friend, hearing of my struggles, recommended the book The Conscious Parent by Shefali Tsabary, Ph.D., that I really saw what was happening. I had melded my identity onto that of my child. For example, if they got As, it meant I was an A parent. But my child was not me; they were them. This book helped me separate myself so I could see them just as they were. This book literally saved my relationship with my child.

I stopped trying to control them and instead concentrated on nurturing them. A few years later, they came out to the family as trans. I am certain that If I had not done the inner work before they decided to come out, I would have been angry, confused, and lost. I would have made it about me.

I would have been angry that my picture was shattered. That I didn’t have a girl to dress for prom, confused, wondering what I had done wrong. I would have been lost, trying to figure out how to explain to my Southern relatives what was going on and afraid of what they would think of them…but more so of me. I was afraid of being shunned by my church, my family, my community, my friends. My worth, my belonging, all wrapped up in other people’s opinions of my child.

In addition to what other people think, I have spoken to dozens of parents who cite the overriding difficulty for them in accepting their LGBTQIA+ child lies in their fear of what will happen to them in the world, how they will be treated, especially within our Black and brown community. The idea that we face so much discrimination already, many parents fear the thought of having a child that is outside of the binary, only seeing more hurdles to overcome.

But what I see is that we show the world how to treat our children by how we treat them. Rejecting our LGBTQIA+ children before the world does is not a true defense. To me, it is another way that fear wins instead of love. We are their parents and their community and are their first line of acceptance and love.

Us first and then the world.

In 2014, five years before my child came out, ESSENCE chose a photo of my kids and me for a Mother’s Day photo submission. In it, we are all smiling brightly, what I thought was my perfect family. My girl and my boy. When I look at the pictures of us then and us now, I still see the same spirit, wide smile, and light in my trans child’s eyes. What a win.

Gender is only a part of who we are as humans. In fact, other than society’s weight on the matter, it’s a very small part. As a parent, I realized I was not raising a gender, I was raising a human.

Character is not pink or blue. A kind, honest, hard-working, resilient, self-reliant, respectful, courageous being does not wear a skirt or pants. All of these qualities are gender-free and comprise what I see as a wonderful human.

I realized my picture of the frilly-bonneted baby girl was only that…a picture. I believe the pride one feels in our children should rest only in their ability to be the best human they can be and a positive part of society.

I greatly admire Dwyane Wade and Gabrielle Union as they show up in love for their beautiful daughter Zaya, and do so loudly. Representation matters, especially in our Black and brown community, where a stigma remains of those in the LGBTQIA+ community.

I invite us to remember that not too long ago, we, as people of color, were fighting for our right to exist, to vote, and to live a full life under the law unharmed—a fight that unfortunately still exists. Our fellow trans and LGBTQIA+ Humans are fighting the same fight—the right to exist free under the law and in our communities. We protect and honor ourselves when we make sure their rights are protected and honored, too.

Through my research, this group has always been present. In fact, pre-colonial contact, our indigenous ancestors recognized fluid genders. From African tribes to Native Americans and across the globe, trans and other nonbinary conforming humans have had a place in their communities, many times a revered one. There is nothing new about this community. The enforcement of the binary through religion or law is just another way cultures and the ancient wisdom of indigenous peoples have been silenced and controlled. Understanding this made me even more proud of my son and his courage to live fully out in a world that would seek to marginalize and legislate his existence. He still shows up in joy—trans joy.

I was certainly proud of who they were back then, and I’m still proud now.