The excitement is building. My new book, Once a Girl, Always a Boy will be hitting book stores soon. Anyone who reads it will learn about deeply personal conversations between members of my immediate family.
As I was writing, I worried that revealing these intimate, sometimes painful details was an inappropriate invasion of my children’s and husband’s privacy. I didn’t worry about sharing my own inadequacies and faltering steps. That’s one thing. It’s entirely different to describe those of others.
Why write?
So why do it? Why take the risk of making anyone feel uncomfortable? And who am I to do that? I am the mother of a transgender man. Who is in a better position to speak out, other than transgender individuals themselves? I’m already a writer. And a public speaker. Also, I have a skillset that I bring to the table that not every parent does.
Why does that matter? Why is it important for parents to share their stories? Why are we able to communicate effectively? It is exactly because we are parents. Our readers and listeners may not understand what it means to be transgender, but most people respond to the reality of a parent loving their child. So, like many other parents of transgender children and adults, I speak out—in my writing, in meetings with our legislators, at public gatherings.
Getting Permission
I asked my family’s permission before setting out to do this. Each one of my children—and children-in-law—was clearly uneasy with what I might say, with how I might make them look. But they understood my desire to help people to grasp the struggle facing transgender folks and they supported that commitment.
I promised that they could read every word before publication and ask me to cut anything that was too personal, or to rework anything they felt was inaccurate or inadequate. Then they took the time to review it all, even when it felt awkward or painful. The resulting conversations were mind-boggling as we respectfully wrestled through differing memories and assumed intentions.
The family bonds grew deeper. I set out to write our story to help other families, and in the process, I was rewarded with some amazing changes in my own.
Ms. Ivester, I’m so anxious to read your new book. Finally, I’ll gain some insight into another family’s journey with a transgender member. In my case, it was my sister. I am 66 years young and so many of memories of my sister (brother) are shadowed in whispers and secrets. I grew up in a poor military family and my sister was the oldest child. I followed along 18 months later. My sister was very ill with numerous health problems during her lifetime. Because we were so close in age and both girls, we were often treated like twins. But, we couldn’t have been more different. My sister, Tommie, constantly found scissors and chopped off her hair (mine too until she got spanked for doing it one too many times). She wore a cowboy hat and boots. Well, anyway, you can see why I’m excited about your book. I didn’t mean to write this much but in my family, Tommie’s transition was treated like a sad secret. My memories are filled with gaping holes. She died at the age of 25 before transitioning was complete. There’s no one left to help me piece together certain things that still haunt me. I hope that you will convey to your son how happy I am that the times we live in are more accepting of transgender folks. I feel that if my sister were alive today, she would be living the life she always wanted to as a man. Peace be with you and your family.
Hello Bobbie – Somehow, your post was hidden from me until just now. Thank you very much for writing. I hope that my book helped you to understand your brother a little better. My family is extremely fortunate that Jeremy was able to find information on line about other transgender individuals. Not only did he not feel so alone, but also he was able to explain to the rest of the family what was going on. I know it’s been a year since you wrote, but I’m hoping that you will see this and write again. My email address is jo@joivester.com and I check that more frequently. Take care.