Finding Myself By Standing Up for My Transgender Son

(This article appeared previously in the Pacific Citizen and DiverseElders.org.)

Almost five years ago, I retired from a 13-year job that I loved. It was time. And it was also frightening. Work gave me purpose and a place to belong. Would I find that same fulfillment now as a retired person? I had decided to write a book about my journey with my transgender son, and also I seemed to be moving in the direction of becoming something I knew nothing about: an LGBTQ activist. Sometimes you just have to follow your heart and take a leap of faith.

So that is what I did.

During these past five years, I have learned that my greatest power lies in being myself. I have also learned that age puts no limitations on what you can do. Everything is a choice. For the first part of my life, I really didn’t know what being myself was. I was a perfectionist, because I never wanted to be wrong. And if I was perfect, nobody would criticize me.

But often being perfect and expecting perfection from others gave neither of us room to grow and make mistakes. And it also put a tremendous amount of pressure on me. I didn’t risk taking on anything where I could fail, so I never took on things that could expand who I was as a person.

I was often afraid to speak out for fear of offending others and having them judge me as a terrible employee, mother or human being. At work, my bosses would encourage me to share my thoughts and not be so invisible. I tried to be visible, but at the first hint of disapproval I would quietly move into invisibility once again. Not being seen seemed safer.

And then Aiden, my son, came out as transgender and my world was turned upside down. Something inside of me changed. I could no longer think about myself; I needed to think about him.

No longer could I go through life casually seeing how every day would unfold for me. No, I had to make each day count. I had to courageously step out, most of the time being scared of saying or doing the wrong thing, but doing it anyway.

Brené Brown, author of the No. 1 New York Times bestseller Daring Greatly, says, “You can be brave and scared at the same time.” Most of the time, you didn’t have to tell me I was scared. I felt that inside. But brave was a whole new concept. If I was scared and I did it anyway, that was brave?

In the beginning, I made a lot of mistakes. I said the wrong thing, but learned the power of saying “I’m sorry.” I did wrong things and learned the power of asking, “How can I do it better next time?” Sometimes people did or said hurtful things to me. And I learned the power of saying, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but when you said that about my son, my heart felt bad.”

In most cases, I was forgiven, given better ways to handle things or apologized to. In all cases, I walked away understanding more, feeling prouder of myself or realizing how I could do things better in the future. The hard part of apologizing, asking how I could do better or sharing my feelings, was that most of the time, I felt like a lobster without a shell. Later I found out that was how you feel when you are being vulnerable.

But being vulnerable has helped me grow and provided me gifts that I never thought would come into my life as a retiree. Authentically sharing my journey of transitioning with my transgender son, I have met so many beautiful people all over the country. And taking on challenges like speaking to larger and larger crowds, even though I was scared, has given me a purpose greater than I thought I would have.

Last month, I spoke in Chicago at a conference called Creating Change. At the end of the workshop, I stopped a young lady who left our presentation crying. “Are you OK?” I asked as she walked past me. “Yes,” she replied, “I am walking out with hope.” Two weeks later, I spoke to 800 educators and professionals in Dallas. I was scared going on stage, but kept telling myself: just keep your heart open and be yourself. At the end, they gave me a standing ovation.

I think what I want to share with you today is that you are never too old to go out and make a difference. Forget your age… find your passion! Go out and share who you authentically are.

If you are not sure what your life can look like if you do this, rent the movie, The Intern, with Robert De Niro and Anne Hathaway. Or Google the name Virginia McLaurin, a 106-year-old woman who started a social media campaign at 104 to meet President Obama and dreamed of being invited to the White House. The video of their meeting has gone viral and inspired so many. We are never too old to bring value to the lives of others. And we are never too old to dream.