Finding My Own Gender Identity

I grew up as the littlest sister in a family of three. My older sibling Aren came along a couple of years before me, and I looked up to Aren in every way. I had the typical little sister syndrome. I wanted to act, look and be like Aren. Aren played softball so I did. Aren agreed with the Democratic Party so I did, and so on. 

When Aren went to high school, and I was still in Junior High, Aren left the house before me, and because of after school activities, Aren came home after me. So every day, I would raid Aren’s closet. And I would wear Aren’s jeans and shirts to school. I remember being three inches shorter and a little stouter, but sliding those clothes on after Aren left each day and off again before Aren came home. 

In college, when I met my husband, neither of us dressed very fashionably. I wore flannel or plaid shirts most days with cargo pants, while he had tape holding his glasses together. Over the years, he started wearing glasses without tape, and I discovered that I liked heels and pink, a lot. And now, we both tease each other constantly about the tomboy he met, and the complete nerd I met. I’d never put much thought into what changed inside of me, although my husband often asks me what made me stop dressing in flannel. 

That is until recently, when Aren came to visit my family, and I finally confessed to Aren that when Aren was at school, I stole Aren’s clothes. And I explained to Aren how much I do and have always looked up to Aren. Then, in an instant, my whole view of myself changed. I had the realization that for most of my life until my 20s, I based my own gender identity on my transgender older sibling’s. I spent my life dressing and looking to fashion advice from Aren, and Aren didn’t identify as female. 

And so, somewhere in our 20s, Aren realized that Aren didn’t identify as female, and I realized that I did. Here we were, each on our own, allowed to finally decide for ourselves what we felt like inside. Aren’s insides screamed one thing, and mine screamed very loudly, “Pink, I love pink! Put me in pink heels, please!”

***This story was originally posted anonymously on the blog Genderqueer Chicago.  At that time, I changed my sibling's name to protect my sibling's identity.  I, of course, asked permission of both my sibling and Genderqueer Chicago before reposting this story here today.***

The Places You've Been

This message is for my children.

Yesterday, I took you to the Maryland State House to be present while our Governor signed the marriage equailty legislation or what is more commonly being called the legislation legalizing same-sex marriage in our state.   

With Governor O'Malley after he signed the marriage equality legislation

Throughout your lives, there will be many decisions you make.  Many choices you have.  I hope you will take with you the love and hope that was present yesterday in the State House.  I know your hearts and souls absorb all of the experiences you have each day.  I hope that the moments we shared lobbying, supporting, walking the halls of Annapolis, attending hearings and finally watching the Governor sign this important legislation into law make you proud some day.  You two participated in a huge part of history.  

When we left the State House and I put you both in your car seats, I kissed each of you extra long.  We all cuddled, and Noah said to me, "Love wins today!" 

My heart is so full.  Love is love, and I am so happy we share ours as a family.

To My Children on National Coming Out Day

I promise I'll love you for who you are.

I promise you can tell me anything.

I promise not to live my own life through you.

I promise to support equality for all people. 

I promise to help change laws so all loving couples can freely and openly love each other with protections under the law.

I promise to understand you are different than me. 

I promise love really does conquer all.

I promise it'll always be safe to be who you are around Daddy and me.

I promise never to lie to you and say a loving couple is just two roommates. 

I promise you will see families that are different than ours.  

I promise my full support for the LGBT community whether you all are a part of it someday or not. 

Finding My Indentity as a SAHM

Today marks two years since I officially became a stay-at-home-mom or a SAHM or as I like to call it CEO of (our last name here) Enterprises.  Two years ago when N wasn't quite six weeks old we made the decision that I would stay home with him for six months.  It was similar to my breastfeeding goal which was also six months.  Both became a year and then both became two years.  We recently weaned, but now that I'm pregnant with another baby that is due in December we've decided I'll stay home another two years to be with her.  Who knows if that number will change.  Like with everything else in life, I plan long-term but also take things one day at a time.  

Something I've struggled with recently is making sure that I have an identity beyond my family and beyond the somewhat troubling title of stay-at-home-mom.  For a majority of the time I've been home with N, we haven't done a ton of staying home.  We've traveled the country, explored our neighborhood, been to different historical places around Washington, DC and kept quite busy.  I'm quite content day-to-day spending my time laughing, teaching (by default) and exploring with our two-year-old.  But earlier this week, it hit me that I had been home two years and I hadn't written the book I promised myself I'd write.  In fact, I haven't even had one article published in a print magazine like I promised myself I would.  So what have I been doing?  

Is the NPR show N and I heard back in February (or maybe just the mention on the show) right that kids of SAHMs grow up to be disappointed in the parent that stayed home?  Did I really sit on the couch and eat bon-bons for two years and not realize it?  

Something else that's been hard for me to adjust to is shared money and a shared income.  I realize all families handle money differently and quite frankly I don't care how they handle their money, but it's been hard for me to adjust to one income and to joint funds.  Before we had kids we had two decent incomes, and I never once talked to my husband about buying a new pair of pants or a purse or anything else.  I would have talked to him before buying a big screen tv or a car, but I would have bought the tv or car I wanted.  We both saw no need to talk about expenses that were under a certain amount.  Now, we talk about everything.  We had an argument the other day over the fact that I bought organic oreos for our house.  When I bought the regular ones instead after our argument, my husband who thought they were a frivolous expenditure a few days before asked me why I only had regular ones in the house and a part of me died right there.  He couldn't believe I'd listen to him about something so ridiculous, and I couldn't believe he didn't understand how awkward it is to not be the one bringing money into the household.  At least not in the form of a paycheck. 

Earlier this year, marriage equality (some of you may understand it is same-sex marriage although marriage equality is much more inclusive term) and gender-identity protections were both on the agenda in Maryland.  I brought our family and sometimes just N to Annapolis many times to lobby our Delegates and State Senators.  N and I stood out in the cold with signs that read "Toddlers for Equality" and "Love is love."  We were there when the marriage bill passed through the state Senate.  And we were there earlier in the morning the day the House sent it back to committee instead of voting on it.  N and I (and Ash when he could) dedicated so many hours that we wouldn't have had if I had been at an office all day to helping try to pass the legislation.  When it didn't pass, I had a moment where I wondered what my greater purpose would be.  I wondered if N would still grow up to be proud that he had been a part of one of the first steps (hopefully steps that will lead to that legislation passing in 2012) of our little state becoming a little more equal for all of its people.  Would he be proud that I brought a 19 month old back and forth daily to Annapolis to meet with legislators and to try to get something passed that I strongly believed in?  Would he more likely to grow up believing in equality because I had been there to show him the democratic process?  I don't know but a big part of me thinks he will.

I also think sometimes it's hard because when you have a day job there's usually formal and informal feedback.  Things happen like you get a paycheck, you have an annual review, you get edits or feedback on projects and on and on.  The only form of feedback I get from N comes in the form of a big hug and kiss followed immediately by a closed fist punch to my nose and biting my toes.  Talk about mixed signals.  I know ultimately if he turns out to be an amazing person, his genes, schools and chance will be credited.  If he turns out to be a delinquent, my inadequacies as a mother will likely be the first point of blame.  I feel like I am making the biggest investment I can for our family.  I think our children and who they become and this time I get to be with them and guide them is invaluable.  I wouldn't be here if I didn't.  But it's complicated.  And I want to be me too.

I don't have a solution for finding my own identity now.  I think it'll be something I continue to explore and strive for.  I do understand that having a day job that didn't involve my family wouldn't give me any more value, worth or fulfillment than what I have now.  But I think, I need to keep striving to find my own identity as a SAHM because it's important for me.  It's important for my family.  And it's important for other people to see and realize.  I made this choice to be where I am today because as a mother, wife, feminist and educated woman, it's what I wanted.  But that doesn't mean that I can't want something more too.

On the Anniversary of Loving vs. Virginia: A Family Like Mine

Yesterday was the anniversary of the landmark case Loving vs. Virginia, the case made famous because 44 years ago today it struck down the last of the anti-miscegenations laws that existed in the United States.  Anti-miscegenation laws made it illegal for people of different "races" to be married or even engage in sexual activity together.  When I think about my 31 years here on earth, it baffles my mind to think that 13 years before I was born (around the same amount of time I've been with my husband) it would have been illegal for families like mine to exist in parts of this country.  

To think that when my parents and Ash's parents were children laws like this existed is a lot to wrap my brain around.  But when I see how we are sometimes welcomed or not welcomed by other people in our country, I remember that families like ours were and to a very large extent still are an anomaly here.  Even though laws have changed in all of the states throughout our country, our family or Ash and I have a couple have experienced being almost run off the road while racial slurs were yelled at us, things said to us on streets and public places, extended family or friends saying ridiculously racist things like I would miscarry because black and white people weren't meant to have babies together and all kinds of questions that range from if I'm actually Noah's parent to weird compliments about his eye color and skin tone.   

And while we are always reminded by the outside world when we are together as a family that we are different or interesting or special or however it is framed, we have have the privileges and rights of most other families here.  We are allowed to love each other completely, openly, and without legal discrimination (at least in theory).  For every sad story we have there are nine more amazing stories of random strangers sharing their tables, coffee, desserts, stories and love with our family.  We've traveled throughout the United States and to London as a family of three.  Ash and I have traveled throughout the U.S., Europe and to Japan together as a couple.  And we have had a chance to show people at home and throughout the world what a happy, loving, multiracial family looks like.  And we could do that if Ash and I weren't married, but it makes it so much easier to know that our family has legal protections should we ever need them.

Being a part of a family that is constantly reminded that the privileges we have were not always guaranteed makes us feel differently when we see loving, committed couples and families not guaranteed those same privileges.  It's why we've lobbied our congresspeople, why we try to educate other people and why we care so much about the struggles of couples and various kinds of families in the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community.  We realize that loving who you love should be celebrated and rewarded, not discriminated against or denied simple equality.  I understand that some people find it hard to understand the relationship between families like mine and families in the LGBT community.  I imagine they would have found it hard to see the link between families like theirs and families like mine before it was mandated by law that we were equal to theirs.  I understand that we are afraid of people and things that are different than us or what we are used to.  I understand that laws don't change people's hearts or minds.  

But I also understand that love is love.  I understand that it would be completely unacceptable for me to bask in the work and efforts of those that came before me for my family to exist without trying ensure that all families have a chance to live and love openly like mine.  And I'm not the only person that looked at Loving vs. Virginia and felt that way.  

On June 12, 2007, the 40th anniversary of Loving vs. Virginia, Mildred Loving, half of the couple in Loving vs. Virginia delivered this message as part of a speech she prepared for the anniversary: 

Surrounded as I am now by wonderful children and grandchildren, not a day goes by that I don't think of Richard and our love, our right to marry, and how much it meant to me to have that freedom to marry the person precious to me, even if others thought he was the "wrong kind of person" for me to marry.  I believe all Americans, no matter their race, no matter their sex, no matter their sexual orientation, should have that same freedom to marry.  Government has no business imposing some people’s religious beliefs over others. Especially if it denies people’s civil rights.  

I am still not a political person, but I am proud that Richard's and my name is on a court case that can help reinforce the love, the commitment, the fairness, and the family that so many people, black or white, young or old, gay or straight seek in life.  I support the freedom to marry for all.  That's what Loving, and loving, are all about.1

1.  Excerpt from Loving for All by Mildred Loving prepared for delivery on June 12, 2007, the 40th anniversary of the Loving vs. Virginia announcement