A Shared Experience
About a year after my wife Leslie died, I discovered our son Phillip playing with some clothes he thought were hers. That’s when I told him that long before Larry became his daddy, he liked to dress up as Lisa.
I asked him, “Is there a little girl inside of you that wants to play?” and he nodded shyly. I asked if we could spend a day playing together, he left into my arms, and we had the first of several really good cries.
After playing with his longish brown hair, I saw my daughter Pamela for the first time.
It was so rewarding for us as a family to use our mutual love being girlish as a way to bond. I bought a ton of mother-daughter outfits, including this darling gray ribbed dress – maybe off the shoulder is a little risque for a girl, but she’s so gorgeous.
But one night Pammy wore it and was using her hands to shield a reaction to being dressed that I instantly recognized. But what she said shocked me… “Mommy, I don’t want this anymore.”
I knew what she wanted “removed.” We cried a long time that night, as I came to the inevitable conclusion: my child was born a girl on the inside. I took her to therapy, and the doctors not only confirmed my suspicions, they helped me cope with who I really was.
With as Leslie my guardian angel role model, my daughter and I walked down the path together to transition, and began our real lives anew.
Postscript: Ten years later, Pamela is 16 and she has a kind, handsome boyfriend – and a kind handsome stepdad, too! :)
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