I wrote this piece in October of last year. It's funny, reading through this writing today- I feel like we are still standing at the crossroads of anonymity versus "coming out". 

 But in present time, Alex said to me,  just two days ago- "I am tired of this being a secret. It's not such a big deal anymore, being transgender. It's only one part of who I am."

 I couldn't agree more. 

 And so, the story begins...

 My husband went surfing yesterday.

 This is a minor miracle in itself, since we are constantly having to barter and bargain and negotiate with each other for those much needed breaks. We take care of the kids, and we try to take care of each other, while also still each advocating for our own self-care. This is our daily reality- parenting three young (often very high maintenance) children can be exhausting, and yet both of us know that we each desperately need time alone, time with friends, and time together as a couple.

 Sanity.

 I was in a good place yesterday afternoon, and up for another solo evening with the kids, and so my husband headed to the ocean to surf. The ocean is his happy place- where the world becomes right again, where things make sense, and where he can relax and recharge.

 My husband ran into a a friend while he was out in the water, and they struck up a conversation. And in between waiting for the next set of waves, this acquaintance off-handedly remarked to my husband: "Oh, by the way- I heard that you have accepted your son as being transgender."

 Wait a minute...what?? And, by the way?! As my husband told me the story later that evening, I thought to myself, How on earth does this guy know that our kid is transgender?

 "Stealth" versus "out"
This story gave me pause, primarily because our daughter, Alex, is not out as transgender. She is what is known as stealth- as far as we know, most people do not know that Alex was born with boy parts. Most people see Alex as just another little girl.

 Or do they? This surfer obviously knew about Alex. My husband sees this guy probably two to three times a year, and only when they are surfing together. But it made me wonder- since when did our young child's gender identity become the topic of ocean small talk amongst the local surfers?

 My husband and I have often asked each other- Are we just kidding ourselves, thinking that people don't remember Alex as a little boy, or that people in our small town aren't talking about this? And ultimately- is it even possible to raise a stealth trans*kid in such a small town?

Some Background: April 2013
We had some problems with some friends of ours when Alex was finishing up preschool. Alex socially transitioned from male to female mid-way through her last year of preschool, when she was almost five years old. This family, our friends (who had two boys in Alex's class), had a huge issue with the teachers switching to female pronouns for Alex after she socially transitioned from boy to girl. The parents, our now rapidly distancing friends, had bathroom access issues, female pronoun issues- really, just issues with the whole idea of their children being exposed to someone who is transgender. 

 It was a season filled with anxiety for me- I worried about Alex, about the conflict with this family, about educating the school staff, about losing our relationship with this family and their children, and even about possible negative media exposure.

 My husband and I met with the preschool director, the school district administration, several doctors, a lawyer, and a gender therapist. It was a challenging couple of months, and it was definitely a sad time, as we watched our former friends distance themselves from our family. Ultimately, this family made it very clear to the school staff that we were "violating their religious beliefs" by allowing Alex to socially transition from male to female.

 Fortunately, the teachers and administration supported Alex. (In fact, the preschool director had been supportive of Alex from the very beginning, even before we as Alex's parents were ready to accept Alex's gender nonconformity.) The lawyer that we met with reassured us, telling us: "Schools have an obligation not to discriminate against trans*kids. It is the school's responsibility to keep your child safe. Everyone has the right to not be harassed." And my favorite: "This family cannot be allowed to violate your child's civil rights just to make themselves more comfortable."

 Amen.

 A Fresh Start
After working through a very tense spring, we decided to move Alex to a different school within the same school district to begin kindergarten. Our school district has been remarkably supportive of Alex from the beginning, but after much consideration and input from administration, we felt that it would be safer to move Alex to a school where she could be more anonymous, and hopefully not have the fear of being "outed" by this antagonistic family, our former friends.

 And so, Alex started at a new school last fall. The teachers at Alex's school are bound to keep Alex's gender nonconformity a secret, thanks to the protective laws of medical confidentiality. Alex uses the girls' restroom, and there are currently no issues or concerns. We even have letters in Alex's school files from different doctors, explaining her transgender identity, and the need to maintain this important confidentiality, for her safety. We, as Alex's parents, have made this very clear to the administration and teaching staff- there are very few people in the school system that need to know that Alex is transgender, and we want to keep it that way. Thankfully, our school district continues to be supportive of Alex, and preserve her anonymity.

 Several families at the new elementary school remembered our family from preschool. I remember speaking to each of these moms at the beginning of kindergarten last year, and preemptively thanking them for maintaining medical confidentiality on Alex's behalf. I was relieved to find support and encouragement from this small handful of mothers that remembered Alex from when she used to be known as a little boy.

 Who else in our town knows?
The pastors at our church have promised confidentiality amongst the staff and children's ministry leaders, but there are some members of our church congregation that know Alex is transgender. Close friends at church have watched us struggle with our acceptance of Alex's gender identity. These friends supported us as we prayed for wisdom and guidance in facing this unknown parenting challenge. Ultimately, our church friends watched as Alex transitioned to wearing all female clothing on Easter Sunday of 2013, and then finally, they observed as we switched to using female pronouns full-time.

 Many of our friends know that Alex is transgender. These close friends have either known us long enough that they observed our struggle and eventual acceptance (and observed Alex's transition to female), or we have since trusted their friendship enough to share our true story. Some friends and acquaintances do not know- I would guess that many families at Alex's dance studio have no idea that Alex is trans*, as well as most of the families of the girls on Alex's soccer team. Most of the families at Alex's school do not know that Alex is transgender, which was why we changed schools in the first place.

 But then, I think realistically- more people probably know about Alex than I realize, or care to admit. When my husband's friend made that off-hand comment as they were surfing, it caught me off-guard- and yet, it didn't necessarily surprise me.

 The Case for Transparency
And I wonder- is it time for this to be out? Do most people already know anyway? We do have a very supportive group of friends, and some of our family is supportive.

 I must admit- I am growing weary of secrets.

 It is exhausting trying to figure out who to tell about Alex, how to tell them, and bracing myself for a potential negative reaction. In the beginning, as we were figuring things out and learning about gender identity (and learning to accept our own child for who she is), we had some very negative responses from loved ones, mostly family. I admit- because of these reactions, I do still brace myself whenever I deem it necessary to share about Alex's gender identity. I am very careful, and perhaps overly anxious, since we were hurt by loved ones and their very hurtful words about our parenting, their opinions regarding how they felt we were damaging our child, etc.

 But, if I view the situation objectively, without the storm clouds of fear or anxiety, I can see that overall, the positive responses and support and love for our child, and for our entire family, have been overwhelmingly supportive and wonderful. Each and every day, I am grateful for the many people in our lives that love and appreciate our special little girl.

 Recently, I was reading a wonderful book titled Far from the Tree, by Andrew Solomon. I was struck by the following quote from Jennifer Finley Boylan, a transgender woman that Solomon interviews in his book:

 "The biggest change for me," says Jennifer Finley Boylan, "is not going from male to female: it's going from someone who has a secret to someone who doesn't really have secrets anymore. It's unimaginably difficult to know that people consider your fondest of dreams and greatest of sorrows (a) incomprehensible and (b) hilarious. A double life is exhausting and ultimately tragic, because you can't ever be loved if you can never be known."

 Here's the clincher though: this is Alex's secret. And Alex is only six years old.

 How does one make such decisions, with such far reaching future implications for health and safety, with a child that is so very young?

 But on the other hand, as the mother of a transgender child, I would also have to agree with this next quote from Solomon's book, in which he writes about social transition for transgender people: "Transition is a change of identity for the person who goes through it, and also for all the people that surround that person."

 My identity as a mother, and fundamentally as a person, has been hugely impacted by knowing a transgender child. I deeply love someone who is transgender. And I admit- I never really gave the whole concept of gender identity any thought until my son became my daughter. I don't think I even knew the meaning of the word transgender. But today, Alex's secret has become my secret as well. 

 My secret- I have a child that is transgender. All of the people in our circle of trust also carry that secret- my husband, our children, our doctors, pastors, teachers, friends, and extended family. Each of us now knows someone who is transgender.

 And so we return to this idea of transparency, of being known, of coming out...and on the other hand, maintaining confidentiality for safety reasons. What is best? What is safest? Is it safer for my child's mental health to be known as trans* now, and to have the opportunity to develop friendships where she can be known and loved for who she truly is? Or is it better for her to just be a girl, to try to "pass", to play it safe, and to hope that she isn't outed by someone else in the community?

 The (Perhaps Pointless) Pursuit of Anonymity
This whole issue surfaced again for me recently, as I was working with a friend on a new design for this blog. My friend, Jax, who has been helping me immensely with the graphic design piece, asked me about adding a link where readers can "share" the blog through facebook, twitter, etc. Sounds reasonable, right?

 Except, we came back to the idea of our small town. If this gets shared locally, it will be pretty obvious who the author is. There aren't too many families around who have a genderfluid Aspie, a trans*kid, and another little girl. We don't exactly blend in.

 So here we are, as Alex's family- at a crossroads. Do we advocate, attempt to educate, and take the risk of more conflict, and friendships lost? Or do we quietly continue, attempting to live our lives in anonymity?

 And again, does such a thing as anonymity even exist, especially in a small town? I'm beginning to see that although we expend so much energy and effort trying to preserve Alex's secret, the pursuit of anonymity might be futile after all.

 Either way, this much I do know- I am tired of living in fear. And I don't want my child to live in fear, either.

 I am proud of my brave little girl, and I want to instill that pride of self in her as well. After all these years, months of grief and denial and fear of the future, I am so proud to write these words- I am proud of my little girl, Alex. What a journey through acceptance this process has been.

 Ultimately- what does Alex think of all of this? She is six years old. Right now she is excited about ordering her Rapunzel wig for Halloween, playing at the park with her friends after school, and constantly singing "Let it Go" (Lord help me!) from the movie Frozen at the top of her lungs, with accompanying dance choreography, of course. Alex is a happy, thriving little girl, with many friends. She loves her family, her dog and her lizards and her beta fish, her church, her teachers, her soccer team, dancing, and her friends. She loves life, and she is loved.

 Alex has a secret, and it's a pretty big one. And for now, all of us that know and love Alex carry the weight of her secret as well.