Plans for “top surgery” are on track yet this month for our youngest twin. We’ve exchanged some thoughtful messages via email and on the phone over the past couple of weeks. I’ve appreciated our ability to communicate without overt conflict. There has been a tone of love and respect from all of us. It’s a disconnected feeling to step outside yourself and philosophically know you’re able to cope with a situation while at the same time experiencing an undercurrent of anxiety and heartache that isn’t alleviated even during sleep. 
I wrote a final message today to express some feelings and thoughts before leaving the ultimate decision up to them. Here is the excerpted version:
Good morning, sweetheart,
I do have a few things I want to address with you and ask of you before letting the topic rest and leaving the conclusions to you. I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t speak my mind and my heart now since the plans you have made are permanent. As you “hear” what I have to say in my writing, please know that my tone of voice is not raised or angry, nor is it oddly calm like sometimes happens when I try to stay even-keel. I just need to speak my heart and say my piece, with love and acquiescence.
First, as much as I can, I think I do understand why you are making the choice you are making. If I were in your shoes, having lived your life experiences so far, believing what you believe about yourself and gender, I think I might make the same choice. I am a person who lives in the moment and projects those moments into my future, so whatever I am feeling at any moment in time is how I see the future unfolding as well. The moments you have lived point you in this direction and it seems right and inevitable. And if that is the case, why would you not do this now? I feel like I understand. And I appreciate your trying to explain yourself. Those are the conversations I wish we could have been having all these years, though I’m aware of the ways I have gotten in the way.
Five years is a long time to experience dysphoria, or extreme discomfort. I am sorry there wasn’t a better plan in place to help you address that discomfort. The challenge has been that the current societal narrative says that the best way to address the discomfort is to change the body and make it appear a different way. Learning to deal with and manage discomfort is a skill that is increasingly overlooked in our world today. By focusing on the discomfort for these five years, and believing that the best way to mitigate the discomfort is through medical intervention, you have likely developed habits and ruts in your brain that reinforce your need to pursue this intervention. At age 19, your prefrontal cortex is not fully developed, and it won’t be until around age 25. This is the part of the brain that regulates critical thinking and decision making. So many choices people make in their late teens and early 20s often fall short of ideal. These are the years when many decisions result in regret.
I understand that you don’t want to feel like you need to hide something when you get dressed each day. I would posit that people would accept you and respect you even knowing that you are biologically female and prefer dressing in a typically male fashion and behaving uniquely as you. I’m sorry that your discomfort with your body causes you to feel you should hide or need to change. If gender refers to the social and cultural roles associated with being male or female, why is the solution to feeling dysphoria to change your body physically? Why isn’t the solution to change culture and society and roles and expectations? In needing to change your body so you can be comfortable, you seem to be saying you need to hide part of who you are and who you have been for 19 years. Giving yourself more time to accept all of who you are leaves open all of the potential options for expressing yourself and embracing your history and biology along with your dysphoria and differences.
I’m glad you have people in your life whom you trust and who support you. Teachers play an important role for their students, and I’m glad you’ve had these women with whom you’ve connected. I’m sure you will make a great confidant and role model for your students one day as well.
You are correct that it would be hard to find an unbiased individual from whom to solicit advice. My answer to that would be that you seek counsel from people who will likely agree with you alongside those who would more aggressively challenge your process and conclusions. If your decision is a good one, then getting input from the other side of the issue shouldn’t compromise your choice. Interaction with a formal counselor could be very beneficial because they might help you think through things that you may not have considered.
I have a few things I’d like you to read. I know that the reading will take a couple of hours, but it seems like a decision that will affect the rest of your life and the lives of others is worth a couple hours of reading. I’m fully aware that you have made up your mind and will likely continue on that course. I don’t even think I’m trying to convince you of anything. I just want to make sure you’re engaging the variety of content that’s out there that documents real stories and real information that might not have been included in any of your searching to date.
I then shared two fairly current articles from June and October 2017 along with four of my blog posts I requested them to read.
The first is a collection of information about people who aren’t opposed to alternative gender expressions, roles, etc., but for a variety of reasons are unsure that medical transition is the best solution to dysphoria.
The second is a piece I wrote about you. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever written.
Third, here are some things I wish I’d done differently with you over the past five years.
And finally, this piece is the raw emotions I dealt with just recently when finding out that you were pursuing surgery. I don’t share it as a way to make you feel guilty. I just think that as I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from, I’d like you to know how it feels to be in my shoes.
I am forever your mother, for better or for worse. I love you more than you’ll probably ever know. I want you to be happy. I want you to be safe. I want you to accept yourself and be accepted by others. I want you to be affirmed and appreciated. I want you to feel how important you are and how special you are. I want our stories to intermingle, to be forever entwined, to make each other more complete.
Thanks for listening to my heart. You are a cherished and beautiful child.
Mom
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