I was thinking back at the very beginning, the first few months, after I had told family and friends that Trinity was no longer Xavier and how people left me alone to deal with my turmoil alone. I mean yes, I had my husband, but he too was having trouble accepting.But there were so many who believed that I was doing something harmful to my child. That really bothered me. It still bothers me.
I know this blog is usually me trying to see through my daughter's eyes, but this post is a look through my heart. I love my children and would do anything for them, within my power. This was not even a choice I made, nor would want to make for my child, but I knew if I did not follow along with her her life would have been filled with sadness and shame. Never, not for my children, not for my baby. What I did not expect was the negative backlash and honestly, I didn't think I would have it. I thought that the people I surrounded myself with were as open minded as I was and they would support me as I supported her through this tumultuous period. But I was left holding up the beams of my family and my child, while my breaking heart struggled to beat with each day. Cracked a bit more with each shameful comment. I hid my sadness behind the strength of a mother to provide Trinity with the right steps that would lead her as she is now, while my emotions were left raw, scarred, and ultimately unsure if I could be loved as a good enough person.
How did it come to this? I was a blessing for my daughter, but a sin to the adults around me. I was called murderer, a bad mom, weak, a doormat to my children's whims. Yes, some praised me and looked up to me, but there were so few compared to the many that saw that this was a harmful choice. It was never my choice. I did not wake up one day and say, "Gee, I think I'm going to make my first born son my daughter. That's a GREAT idea!" I mourned the loss of my son, not less than a year after her transition. I suddenly broke down into pitiful tears that forced their way out of my torn soul and I cried. I held a crumpled picture of her at age 1, when life was simple, when colors were blue and green, cars and trucks and I cried. I had no comfort that day, as I was alone, as alone as I was when the first year happened and I cried. I cried in pain, I cried in anger, I cried. And when the tears had dried, my heart cried. I wanted to talk to the people I had come to care about, but had stopped caring about me. Stopped all because of this, all because I put aside my fears and selfishness and let my child lead the way into who she already knew she was.
I have not cried since that day, but I still miss the connections I had. I have slowly lost them and gained a few. I still miss what I had. Does that make me wish I could go back in time and change how things turned out for Trinity? No. I love my little girl and she is my light. The brightest light I know. And I'm DeShanna, her mom. And I'm the force that'll protect her to the very end. Even if it means doing it alone. I have her and she has me. And that's the way it oughta be.