I was chatting with friends on Facebook one evening last week when Colin walked into my room. He perched on the bed beside me and said, “If I transition, I’m think I’m going to name myself Alma instead of Emma. You know, for one of the anime characters.”
I absolutely loath the name Alma but his body, his choice. Hopefully if he ever decides to transition he’ll like another name. Or maybe it’ll grow on me. Who knows.
Then we were at the Transgender Day of Remembrance Service. As we were leaving, a woman cheerfully said, “Good evening ladies” to both of us. Colin shaved his face smooth as soon as we got home.
Transition is definitely something he thinks about although he rarely speaks of it. It came up again yesterday when we were at his doctor’s appointment, sandwiched between getting an exam to make sure he can handle anaesthesia for his wisdom teeth removal and getting his flu shot. The doctor referred to him as Emma and Colin replied that he was no longer going by Emma. The doctor was shocked and asked why. Colin sadly replied that he was too old to transition. Both of us assured him he was definitely not too old but I don’t think he believed us.
I wish both my kids happiness, peace, and the chance to be themselves. No metaphorical closets in this family. I just never expected my kid to leave the closet then run back inside, only peeking out occasionally. A friend’s kid, who’s maybe a year older than Colin, came out around the same time as Colin. She’s now fully transitioned and living as a woman. Meanwhile Colin hides in his room for hours on end, hiding from the world.
I wish he would be happy. I wish he’d start living his life no matter what gender he chooses. I wish he would just be himself.