To he or not to he...

I had never, ever questioned the power of a pronoun until Dandelion transitioned.

After 'she' started dressing and looking like 'he' I would be asked how old he was, what was his name, and invariably, I would blow the cover and 'she' or 'her' would slip into my conversation - most often confusing the stranger.

I easily accepted the haircut, the clothing, the entire demeanor, BUT my language patterns kept giving it all away...

"Come on, ladies"
"My girls are over there" (most often getting a quizzical look from the recipient of the comment as it is obviously a boy and a girl over there)
"I love you, Baby Girl"
"She's 6...oops, I mean HE's 6"

Argh! I hate to admit it but the list goes on!

I have to say that I do try, I try my darndest to respect Dandelion's gender identification, but having called Dandelion she,her,pretty girl, Baby Girl, beautiful, lovely, daughter and all those other female identifying nouns and adjectives for so long that it was a hard habit to break.

When talking about Dandelion to friends and family, I would find myself constantly self-correcting, making conversations much longer and more broken up than they should be.

So, do you know what I did?

I asked Dandelion is he minded that I flubbed up.

Do you know what Dandelion said?

No - as long as you think of me as your son and as a boy.

So, do you know what?

I don't worry about it anymore. Let strangers be confused, the people who really count know and most of all, Dandelion just doesn't care!

Laying the foundation...with foundation garments?

Funny enough, my initial awakening to Dandelion's transition was all about underwear...yep, underwear.

Around the age of 4, it was more and more often we caught Dandelion going "kamikaze".

"Where are your undies?"
"I don't have any."
"You have a drawer full!"
"They're too pretty!"

For goodness sakes! It's underwear, no one sees it - who cares! Well, obviously, someone did...someone cared a lot.

Regardless of my narrow opinion, the next time we were at the department store I took Dandelion to the girls' underwear section and said, "Choose!". Dandelion wandered the rack, back and forth, then something caught her eye on the next rack...the boys' rack...Spiderman underwear. Dandelion drifted over there, oohed and ahhed for a few moments and decidedly told me that she wanted the Spiderman underwear.

Of course she did - and, she wanted them to be just like Daddy's...boxer briefs. That's what we took home, along with a package of the boxer briefs with Cars on them, too. She was so proud to show Daddy that she had underwear just like his - but more fun.

Daddy admitted that the new underwear was really cool, but still gave me a quizzical look over Dandelion's shoulder.

Why? Why not? At this point, I'm still thinking it is still a phase, and what harm will it do to buy her new underwear - who decides what is boy or girl undies at that age?

But, from that day on I noticed a difference in Dandelion. A swagger? a slight change in attitude and mannerisms...enough for me to notice, and enough for me to begin thinking that this may not be a "phase".

It is still a good year off before I stop trying to dress Dandelion to my own tastes. It is a quite a while before I stop trying to get Dandelion to compromise with me by wearing a feminine shirt, but in BLUE (I look back now and simultaneously am disappointed and amused at myself!).

But, there is no denial that the underwear made a huge difference to Dandelion. No one but those of us at home ever saw it, but Dandelion knew that the foundation had been layed and had hope for us to know it, too.

Acceptance and Grief

I've been on a journey of acceptance for 2, almost 3 years now, that my 7 year old Dandelion is not a girl, rather a boy.

What I didn't realize until this past winter, though, is that I would have the need to grieve the loss of my baby girl.

When my grandmother passed away this winter, I was left with a huge whole in my life and in my heart. For a few months, I cried every single day - often several times a day.

I am pragmatic and I believe that everyone has their time to leave us, along with the belief that lives should be celebrated - especially the lives of the elderly - rather than mourned. So, my long state of sadness concerned even me.

One day while looking over photos of Nanny with my kids, it struck me - the older photos contained a Dandelion that was no longer with me - long curls, pigtails, skirts and dresses, pink...lots of pink! Oh, what a beautiful little girl he played! And, then it hits me - my crying for Nanny was a catharsis to grieving the loss of my baby girl, too.

From the day that Dandelion voiced that she was, indeed, a he, I have been doing my best to handle it in a sensible manner - true to my British heritage. How can I facilitate this for him? What I can I do to make him feel confident and comfortable in his surroundings? in his own skin?

Maybe it was the *excitement* (oh, how I use this term so very loosely!) of the transition that didn't allow me the time to even think about any loss on my part. All I can say is that when I actually took the time to think about it, it hit me like a ton of bricks - my little girl is gone forever. I have a wonderful son, who I love not a bit less, but I've lost the little girl in the photos.

So, I took the time to grieve for her, and I feel better. As we pull out the summer clothes and I bag all the girl clothing that my eldest has grown out of that I will never see on her little sister, I know there will be a twinge. But, when that happens, I will remember the shopping trip that Dandelion and I just took to buy him summer clothes and how I was amused over his peculiarities when it comes to choosing clothing, and how I marvel at his unique sense of style and individuality.

Now the guilt hits...looking back and seeing all the signals that your child had tried to give you over the years before stating very matter of factly which gender they identify with. Ack!

Parental guilt is a blog for another day...and in the meantime, keep calm and carry on!