Our Story
Although not the primary mission of this blog, just for background and to introduce myself and my family to you, I figured I would briefly share my family's experiences with how we came to be introduced to our special daughter. Some of you visiting here will be able to relate, I'm sure!
I started out a mother to 3 wonderful boys. At the time our story begins, Cody was 11, Corey was 8, and Connor was 5.
My boys are my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do to give them everything I am capable of, and to make them just as happy as I possibly can.
My oldest, Cody, is the stereotypical supportive and mentoring older brother, always has been. Cody is headstrong, confident, courageous. Loyal as a lab pup. Eager, independent, great sense of responsibility. Always looking out for, rarely fighting with, his little bros. Willing to lend a helping hand when a brother takes a fall, find a bandaid for a scratch, protect from a bully, boost his brother up when he can't reach. Into sports, video games, legos, and boy scouts. All around great kid with noble sensibilites and born to lead.
My youngest, Connor, was always the eternal goofball, since the moment he made his first sound. He loves to laugh, make others laugh, and by 5 had already mastered the comedic art of slapstick. He is ALL classic Norman Rockwell style boy too. Mudpies, overalls, frogs, matchbox cars, backyard baseball, hee-man woman hating, Call of Duty playing, rough and tumble, you can bet money he's a future football player and truck owner.
So that leaves Corey, my middle son. Corey was different than his brothers growing up. Different, and amazing in his own way. He was kind, caring, compassionate. Sweet as a honeysuckle. Loving and affectionate. Empathetic, concerned about any person or animal less fortunate. And wickedly smart and contemplative.
Our oldest Cody and youngest Connor grew up happy and healthy and seemed in good spirits most every day.
But, despite all his incredible traits and admirable qualities for a boy to have, Corey, on the other hand, was frequently depressed, even from an early age. We couldn't figure out why. We tried it all, but he just seemed dissatisfied with any activity or sport or playing with other boys his age. We watched a happy kid full of life slowly become more and more miserable, and you could see the sadness on his face even when other people might mistake him for being happy in the moment. He was also hard to get to smile some days, and it only seemed to get worse as he grew and the years passed. He would just seem so sad all the time and there didn't seem to be much we could do to help, despite running out of ideas and best efforts.
So, at 8 years old, Corey was often expressing deep and haunting feelings that no child should have to feel, and there didn't really seem to be any reason for it. We could think of no factor in his happy healthy safe little charmed life that would be causing any issues that would affect him to be so blue. We brought it up to a couple of doctors, and nothing productive really came of it when they would counsel with him.
Then, one day, Corey was out playing with the new neighbors' kids. They had a boy and two girls, just above and below his age, and had just moved in a few weeks prior. He seemed to have a zeal I hadn't seen in a while when playing with their daughters, and when they asked if he could come play at their house, and he seemed so excited about it, I said sure. Later that day, when he hadn't returned by the time I told him, I went knocking to check on him. And guess who answered the door that day! Someone I had never met before. Why, it was a joyful little drag princess I'd never met before! A princess who informed me with confidence and a sweet batting of her eyes that her name was Chloe, and invited me in for tea with her new friends. I couldn't believe my eyes. Hold on... This is my son? My deeply gloomy and depressed son? It seemed like I was watching someone else's child, and it wasn't because of the dress or tights or heels or headband or fingernail polish he was adorned by....he didn't look, act, or sound like that sad boy that couldn't finish his breakfast that morning. In fact he didn't look, act or sound like the boy I raised and had always known! Here he was, laughing, giggling, playing, enjoying this game of house where, he informed me, he was the daughter and his new girlfriends were his mom and dad. I had never seen him this happy, even though this was just an everyday silly childhood game of makebelieve!
The girls' mother invited me back to the garden, and I left him to play inside for a little while longer. As we talked, and I got to know her better, I couldn't help but keep thinking about the change I saw in Corey. I can't recall what it was specifically, but something she said when we were talking about the kids hit me right in the feels, and I broke into tears. I shared with her the struggles we had been through in trying to help Corey out of this growing misery that we did not understand the cause of, and because it was such a juxtaposition to his normal self, I mentioned how incredibly happy he seemed while playing with the girls, and how unusual it was to see him that way, a night and day difference to the Corey we knew most often these days.
My neighbor proceeded to change our world that day.
She asked if I had ever had Corey tested, for psychiatric issues, for hormonal imbalances, etc etc. I told her that we had, and that nothing conclusive had ever really come out of it. He would never really open up, I said, just mostly shrugs and iono's.
Then she said it. She said: 'Well Cyndi, you know, I'm not sure if you have spoken with someone who has had experience with kids who have gender related confusion, but it might be a good idea to have him talk to someone who has dealt with that sort of thing.'
I was taken aback. Gender related confusion? My boy? He has a mother and father in his life, pretty typical gender expressions, and two brothers who he should be just like. But.... he wasn't. Right then and there, I had to admit that to myself. Corey was different, and not just in how unhappy he was. In the WAY he was. The way he was inside himself.
I had brothers growing up, and so did my husband. We both came from families of boys.
We had no sisters.
I started to realize what should have been obvious to me all along: Corey is different because Corey isn't much of a boy's boy. He isn't satisfied with boys playtime and activities and sports and shows and interests. It never did much for him.
He would always play in my things as a toddler and preschooler. When his brothers started razzing him for it, he stopped. I never thought anything of it. Boys will be boys right?
Well now, now that I thought about it.... as he grew older, and into elementary school, he had let slip - hidden behind embarassment that I naively mistook for a secret crush of some kind - a peaked interest in his girl classmates' goings on and activities. Me, being so naive, I had thought that he was possibly feeling romantic at a precocious age, I had convinced myself that he was a sensitive Adonis and going to end up with a little girlfriend thing long before his brothers.
What I was blind to, and what he would later reveal, is that he had been expressing interest in what it was to be like a girl, to BE A GIRL, to be pretty and cute and wear beautiful clothes and have long hair you could put in fun styles. To be sugar and spice and everything nice. The way he had dreamed of himself in his super secret thoughts. The way he felt he was inside.
And here he was, living it up, AS A GIRL, and expressing the bubbly exuberance that seemed like it should've been natural to him all along but had been missing, missing so long that we had forgotten that he was ever capable of such joyful expression.
Well, at the risk of rambling on and on about the following few months, let me bring this to a quick close, and wrap up by saying, Corey was seen by the right doctor, who knew the right questions to ask, and who determined that Corey may, in fact, have a gender dysphoria. With the right encouragement, the right timing, and predictably uncomfortable yet productive conversations explaining his little predicament to his brothers, our families, and his friends, Corey slowly opened up and let his true feelings out. When he was ready, and after lots of counseling and love and acceptance and wardrobe updates, our son became our daughter. and became the little girl she had kept trapped deep inside all along: Chloe.
Since her transition to presenting as female, our new 9 year old daughter, Miss Chloe, has been EXTREMELY outgoing, motivated, hopeful, and HAPPY. For the first time ever, our sad child finally seems fulfilled, and is just an absolute joy nearly every single day of her new life.
I'm sure I will talk more about our family and Chloe's journey in the future, but for now, let me just close with this:
Chloe, while feeling lonely and 'weird sometimes because she's different, has been incredibly encouraged and made to feel welcome by her little 'transsisters' in a support group we were lucky enough to find a few hours away.
So that gave me the idea for this blog. After seeing so many stories of kids who have had similar expriences, expreiences she can relate to and help her feel not quite so different and not quite so lonely, I am making this blog to share and catalog the expriences of other gendernonconforming and transkids, so that she can relate, and be encouraged, and see that there are plenty of people out there just like her, and see that it's not so bad being different. In fact, being different is being special. Who would want to be normal when you could be an inspiration with your courage and resolve?
2017 is an amazing time to explore what it is the be a trans or gender creative or gendernonconforming kid in America. Our culture is the most accepting it has ever been to LGBT issues and rights and protections, and it seems that almost weekly we hear of another family coming out in the mass media to affirm to us that having gender bending or trans kids is just a thing some families go through, it's no big deal, they're just kids trying their best to be healthy and happy, and parents supporting that. We live in a great time to be a gender superhero, who can kick our old traditional gender roles square in the face, and fly high above our old expectations of what it means to be BOY, to be GIRL, or someone who is BOTH or IN BETWEEN or NEITHER, who have the admirable but completely normal goal of JUST BEING THEMSELVES, and being loved and accepted, not just in spite of their differences, but because of them.
Yes, they may have many different outcomes in their future of their journey, but at some point or another, they were all our little drag princesses. Our little preteen queens. Our trans tykes.
Our junior gender benders are going to change the world. And I intend to support Chloe by highlighting all her different friends and allies out there who are on a similar journey to herself. She is not alone. She is special. She is part of a movement. She is going places, and she has more support than she's ever had in history.
Let's all celebrate these gender busting babies and the positive acceptance and change they are inspiring in not just to our communities, but our whole nation and our whole world!
I started out a mother to 3 wonderful boys. At the time our story begins, Cody was 11, Corey was 8, and Connor was 5.
My boys are my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do to give them everything I am capable of, and to make them just as happy as I possibly can.
My oldest, Cody, is the stereotypical supportive and mentoring older brother, always has been. Cody is headstrong, confident, courageous. Loyal as a lab pup. Eager, independent, great sense of responsibility. Always looking out for, rarely fighting with, his little bros. Willing to lend a helping hand when a brother takes a fall, find a bandaid for a scratch, protect from a bully, boost his brother up when he can't reach. Into sports, video games, legos, and boy scouts. All around great kid with noble sensibilites and born to lead.
My youngest, Connor, was always the eternal goofball, since the moment he made his first sound. He loves to laugh, make others laugh, and by 5 had already mastered the comedic art of slapstick. He is ALL classic Norman Rockwell style boy too. Mudpies, overalls, frogs, matchbox cars, backyard baseball, hee-man woman hating, Call of Duty playing, rough and tumble, you can bet money he's a future football player and truck owner.
So that leaves Corey, my middle son. Corey was different than his brothers growing up. Different, and amazing in his own way. He was kind, caring, compassionate. Sweet as a honeysuckle. Loving and affectionate. Empathetic, concerned about any person or animal less fortunate. And wickedly smart and contemplative.
Our oldest Cody and youngest Connor grew up happy and healthy and seemed in good spirits most every day.
But, despite all his incredible traits and admirable qualities for a boy to have, Corey, on the other hand, was frequently depressed, even from an early age. We couldn't figure out why. We tried it all, but he just seemed dissatisfied with any activity or sport or playing with other boys his age. We watched a happy kid full of life slowly become more and more miserable, and you could see the sadness on his face even when other people might mistake him for being happy in the moment. He was also hard to get to smile some days, and it only seemed to get worse as he grew and the years passed. He would just seem so sad all the time and there didn't seem to be much we could do to help, despite running out of ideas and best efforts.
So, at 8 years old, Corey was often expressing deep and haunting feelings that no child should have to feel, and there didn't really seem to be any reason for it. We could think of no factor in his happy healthy safe little charmed life that would be causing any issues that would affect him to be so blue. We brought it up to a couple of doctors, and nothing productive really came of it when they would counsel with him.
Then, one day, Corey was out playing with the new neighbors' kids. They had a boy and two girls, just above and below his age, and had just moved in a few weeks prior. He seemed to have a zeal I hadn't seen in a while when playing with their daughters, and when they asked if he could come play at their house, and he seemed so excited about it, I said sure. Later that day, when he hadn't returned by the time I told him, I went knocking to check on him. And guess who answered the door that day! Someone I had never met before. Why, it was a joyful little drag princess I'd never met before! A princess who informed me with confidence and a sweet batting of her eyes that her name was Chloe, and invited me in for tea with her new friends. I couldn't believe my eyes. Hold on... This is my son? My deeply gloomy and depressed son? It seemed like I was watching someone else's child, and it wasn't because of the dress or tights or heels or headband or fingernail polish he was adorned by....he didn't look, act, or sound like that sad boy that couldn't finish his breakfast that morning. In fact he didn't look, act or sound like the boy I raised and had always known! Here he was, laughing, giggling, playing, enjoying this game of house where, he informed me, he was the daughter and his new girlfriends were his mom and dad. I had never seen him this happy, even though this was just an everyday silly childhood game of makebelieve!
The girls' mother invited me back to the garden, and I left him to play inside for a little while longer. As we talked, and I got to know her better, I couldn't help but keep thinking about the change I saw in Corey. I can't recall what it was specifically, but something she said when we were talking about the kids hit me right in the feels, and I broke into tears. I shared with her the struggles we had been through in trying to help Corey out of this growing misery that we did not understand the cause of, and because it was such a juxtaposition to his normal self, I mentioned how incredibly happy he seemed while playing with the girls, and how unusual it was to see him that way, a night and day difference to the Corey we knew most often these days.
My neighbor proceeded to change our world that day.
She asked if I had ever had Corey tested, for psychiatric issues, for hormonal imbalances, etc etc. I told her that we had, and that nothing conclusive had ever really come out of it. He would never really open up, I said, just mostly shrugs and iono's.
Then she said it. She said: 'Well Cyndi, you know, I'm not sure if you have spoken with someone who has had experience with kids who have gender related confusion, but it might be a good idea to have him talk to someone who has dealt with that sort of thing.'
I was taken aback. Gender related confusion? My boy? He has a mother and father in his life, pretty typical gender expressions, and two brothers who he should be just like. But.... he wasn't. Right then and there, I had to admit that to myself. Corey was different, and not just in how unhappy he was. In the WAY he was. The way he was inside himself.
I had brothers growing up, and so did my husband. We both came from families of boys.
We had no sisters.
I started to realize what should have been obvious to me all along: Corey is different because Corey isn't much of a boy's boy. He isn't satisfied with boys playtime and activities and sports and shows and interests. It never did much for him.
He would always play in my things as a toddler and preschooler. When his brothers started razzing him for it, he stopped. I never thought anything of it. Boys will be boys right?
Well now, now that I thought about it.... as he grew older, and into elementary school, he had let slip - hidden behind embarassment that I naively mistook for a secret crush of some kind - a peaked interest in his girl classmates' goings on and activities. Me, being so naive, I had thought that he was possibly feeling romantic at a precocious age, I had convinced myself that he was a sensitive Adonis and going to end up with a little girlfriend thing long before his brothers.
What I was blind to, and what he would later reveal, is that he had been expressing interest in what it was to be like a girl, to BE A GIRL, to be pretty and cute and wear beautiful clothes and have long hair you could put in fun styles. To be sugar and spice and everything nice. The way he had dreamed of himself in his super secret thoughts. The way he felt he was inside.
And here he was, living it up, AS A GIRL, and expressing the bubbly exuberance that seemed like it should've been natural to him all along but had been missing, missing so long that we had forgotten that he was ever capable of such joyful expression.
Well, at the risk of rambling on and on about the following few months, let me bring this to a quick close, and wrap up by saying, Corey was seen by the right doctor, who knew the right questions to ask, and who determined that Corey may, in fact, have a gender dysphoria. With the right encouragement, the right timing, and predictably uncomfortable yet productive conversations explaining his little predicament to his brothers, our families, and his friends, Corey slowly opened up and let his true feelings out. When he was ready, and after lots of counseling and love and acceptance and wardrobe updates, our son became our daughter. and became the little girl she had kept trapped deep inside all along: Chloe.
Since her transition to presenting as female, our new 9 year old daughter, Miss Chloe, has been EXTREMELY outgoing, motivated, hopeful, and HAPPY. For the first time ever, our sad child finally seems fulfilled, and is just an absolute joy nearly every single day of her new life.
I'm sure I will talk more about our family and Chloe's journey in the future, but for now, let me just close with this:
Chloe, while feeling lonely and 'weird sometimes because she's different, has been incredibly encouraged and made to feel welcome by her little 'transsisters' in a support group we were lucky enough to find a few hours away.
So that gave me the idea for this blog. After seeing so many stories of kids who have had similar expriences, expreiences she can relate to and help her feel not quite so different and not quite so lonely, I am making this blog to share and catalog the expriences of other gendernonconforming and transkids, so that she can relate, and be encouraged, and see that there are plenty of people out there just like her, and see that it's not so bad being different. In fact, being different is being special. Who would want to be normal when you could be an inspiration with your courage and resolve?
2017 is an amazing time to explore what it is the be a trans or gender creative or gendernonconforming kid in America. Our culture is the most accepting it has ever been to LGBT issues and rights and protections, and it seems that almost weekly we hear of another family coming out in the mass media to affirm to us that having gender bending or trans kids is just a thing some families go through, it's no big deal, they're just kids trying their best to be healthy and happy, and parents supporting that. We live in a great time to be a gender superhero, who can kick our old traditional gender roles square in the face, and fly high above our old expectations of what it means to be BOY, to be GIRL, or someone who is BOTH or IN BETWEEN or NEITHER, who have the admirable but completely normal goal of JUST BEING THEMSELVES, and being loved and accepted, not just in spite of their differences, but because of them.
Yes, they may have many different outcomes in their future of their journey, but at some point or another, they were all our little drag princesses. Our little preteen queens. Our trans tykes.
Our junior gender benders are going to change the world. And I intend to support Chloe by highlighting all her different friends and allies out there who are on a similar journey to herself. She is not alone. She is special. She is part of a movement. She is going places, and she has more support than she's ever had in history.
Let's all celebrate these gender busting babies and the positive acceptance and change they are inspiring in not just to our communities, but our whole nation and our whole world!
YO TE FELICITO; QUE BUENO
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