I received an excellent question to my article “My Child is Non-Binary and I’m Confused.” Someone wrote in and asked, “I have friends and work colleagues who are transgender. [Sometimes I slip up and misgender them.] Interesting that I am slipping more with my friends. It upsets me when I do it. I immediately apologize and try to validate what I imagine is pain, anger and frustration.
Julie Ross's blog
Some of the common responses that I hear when a child, tween, or teen identifies as transgender are: “It’s probably just a phase” or “They’re probably just making a political statement” or “They’re just experimenting.”
I recently got an email from someone who wanted a “female voice” to read at an event. The subject of the email was “Ladies.” I found myself tremendously bothered by the email, but not initially sure why. After reflecting on it for a day or two, I came to some realizations.
I’m going to admit, for better or worse, that when my children (ages 23 and 28 - both of whom are married or partnered) have a problem, it causes me anxiety. Their problem may be with work, or insurance, or with their spouse or partner. It may be with their feelings of sadness or anger or anxiety. It may be with finances or their car. It doesn’t matter, because the moment I hear of it I want to fix it. In fact, I often
I voted for Hillary. Please don’t let that make you stop reading if you made a different choice from me. I’m not writing to tell anyone that their choice was wrong. I am writing to help parents whose children woke up after the election and were afraid. I’m writing to help give them the words to calm their children and move forward.
The first in a series of blogs about the importance of accepting our children for who they are.
When my daughter was born, she shattered the myths that I had held dear prior to pregnancy. I dreamed of perfect breast feeding, idyllic middle of the night feedings, cuddling and gazing into each other’s eyes with a love born of her mere existence.
I’m not complaining. Let me say that right up front. It’s just that I didn’t expect to go from an empty nest to having not one but two college students living with us this summer. I knew that my son would be coming home, of course, and was rejoicing in that news. The unexpected part occurred when one of his best friends from high school asked if she could live with us this summer. (And no, they’re not dating. They really are just friends. No, I don’t have my head in the sand. And no, I’m not giving you a “wink, wink, nod, nod” as I write this.
Andrea, the mother of three year old Max, was stressed when she called me. “He’s driving me crazy,” she said, “he insists that I drop everything to look something up about the Tigris River and when I tell him that he has to wait he has the most explosive temper tantrum you’ve ever seen. Then, when I put him in a time out, just to calm him down, he writes me a note of apology, so that was sweet, but I just can’t take the irrational behavior!”
In a recent conversation with an old friend that I haven’t spoken to in years, she alluded to my “recent” blog, “The Empty Nest,” saying “How is it having your son away in college?” It shook me up to realize that a year-and-change has gone by since I wrote that blog and that for people reading it for the first time, it’s as if time stood still.