When my husband and I were thinking about names for our son who was on the way, I voiced a wish that his name would have a Z in it. Z was the part of my name that I felt represented my uniqueness and I wanted to pass on that uniqueness. Little did I know how that uniqueness would unfold.
When Z was a toddler, he loved trucks, trains, subway cars, and cranes. Even as he turned 4 and 5, he loved all the typical boy stuff — Rescue Bots and Power Rangers. I remember distinctly thinking to myself that this showed how there was something innate about gender and that Z definitely had that innateness that was male. I didn’t pay much attention when about the same time, Z was drawn to ‘Frozen’ and wanted to dress up in the characters’ costumes with the other girls. But I do remember ashamedly steering Z away from a Disney princess-themed backpack for something more boy-oriented, adorned with the ‘Cars’ theme. Z had no idea what I was doing in guiding this decision, and in any case, equally liked the ‘Cars’ backpack. I didn’t realize what I was doing either. In fact, I’ve balked at boy and girl stereotypes throughout my life — especially girl stereotypes.
I think it was in the 1st grade that Z decided to get a manicure with me. I may have even offered that as a possibility, one which Z eagerly accepted. It wasn’t that unusual for boys to paint their nails in NYC. They might paint their nails blue or black, but it wasn’t uncommon to see. So, we got our nails done. Z initially chose colors like green, but quickly transitioned to reds and pinks. Especially on the toes.
In 2nd grade, Z requested a Barbie on a Secret Santa wish list. The mom of Z’s Secret Santa asked me about it. I said confidently that I didn’t think Z liked Barbies, but that I’d ask to make sure. Z confirmed that no Barbie was wanted. But the classmate was sure Z wanted one, so he bought Z the Barbie and another toy just to be safe. Z was very into the Barbie but seemed to only want to undress it. So, I chalked that up to curiosity. About the same time, Z claimed to be half female and half male (Although my mother-in-law remembers Z having told her this earlier, at around 4 years old). At the time, I thought… “Geez my son is enlightened. Of course, we are all on a spectrum. Z gets it!”
Then Z became obsessed with JoJo Siwa. If you don’t have a 6–9-year-old girl, you may not be familiar with her. She’s a YouTube star who wears all things sparkly, loves unicorns, and is known for her signature ponytail tied up with a big bow. JoJo introduced a line of clothing at Target and Z started requesting some of her items. At first, the requests were manageable — we bought the silver unicorn jacket and a “Hold the drama” t-shirt. But soon the requests became more pointedly girly: the bows, pink sparkly pants, and pink sparkly shoes. We had just moved to Austin, Texas, and Z was having trouble at the new school. Z already shared with everyone who listened about being half male and half female. Some kids argued with Z about it. There had even been a few incidents of bullying when the boys on the bus took issue with Z’s JoJo Siwa backpack. The teachers were concerned with Z’s increasingly combative behavior stemming from these confrontations. I decided to find a therapist that had experience with gender non-conforming kids. My gut told me that there was something internal going on that was causing some of the issues.
After the first visit, the therapist brought my husband and I in and said that Z preferred that we refer to her as “she.” She was still adamant about being half male and half female but wanted people to ultimately consider her a girl more than a boy. Unfortunately, I burst out crying. I’m not sure why I had this reaction. I just wasn’t expecting this news. I didn’t expect that Z would or could be so definitive about this. I didn’t understand it. I was very confused. I felt so bad about crying and I tried to cover it up by saying that I was just so happy for her that she could finally be who she felt like she was. Z tried to comfort me the entire way home. She seemed insecure and wanting to make sure I was going to accept her. How could I not? How could anybody not accept their baby? Even if they didn’t understand, how could a parent ask their child to be somebody else just to make themselves more comfortable?
Still, I struggled internally for a few weeks. I was surprised at my own reactions, to be honest. I had always been a vocal supporter of LGBTQ rights. But I uncovered some real insecurities around what other people would think of me. I was also worried about Z. I knew this road was going to be hard for her no matter what. I was mainly worried for her safety. It was such a divisive issue and it caused violent reactions from people. I didn’t want Z to experience that kind of rage for something that she couldn’t even control.
Z is turning 9 in March. She still loves a lot of typical boy things, along with the atypical. She wants to be a YouTube star and play in the NBA. She still loves to paint her nails and wear pink. She grew her hair out, but it’s not always obvious what gender she is. Some people still refer to her as a ‘he.’ She teaches me every day that there is no such thing as boy or girl things. She’s right. It’s all just the way our minds like to easily categorize things. And of course, there are generalities about what boys typically like vs. what girls typically like. It’s just that Z doesn’t conform to those stereotypes as easily as others. She truly identifies deep in her soul as a girl and it’s not something that she can easily explain. She gets upset when you try to press her. She can’t explain it. It’s just innate.
We took Z out of public school and now she is in a small school with a nature and agriculture-based curriculum, where they teach the kids strong emotional and social skills. The kids are more open to her being different, promised her that they would never bully her, and christened her “two-spirit.” She still has a hard time fitting in. The girls don’t easily accept her as one of them even though she truly yearns for that. She can still fit in more easily with the boys, but that isn’t a perfect fit either.
We decided long ago that this is Z’s journey and we’ll try to guide her on that journey the best way that we can. Making sure she knows that the most important things are to be a good human, to love, and to be kind. No matter who you are, where you came from, or how you identify. We are all worthy of love. Our promise to Z is to love her unconditionally — as we teach her to love unconditionally too.
