so real

[I will be using they/them pronouns in this post, since it's set during a time before E came out to me, and it feels weird to use either she or he, somehow.]

One day last summer, many months before I'd learn the term 'gender dysphoria', I sat across from my 14-year-old kid in a Starbucks in New York City, and watched them collapsing in on themself. 

We had just come off the highest high of seeing Newsies on Broadway, but it was soon followed by a panic attack, which E had been having somewhat regularly for the last several months. This one came on very abruptly, with the trigger a complete mystery to me, and I didn't know how to handle it.

E's back was against the wall as we sat on two stools looking out the window onto the busy city street. I asked E what had happened to cause this anxiety attack. Was it something I'd done? Was it something I could have avoided? Could I have prevented it? What was it that was making them so miserable? I saw E's pain so vividly in broad daylight, coming off such an extreme high and I lost my composure. I leaned in and pleaded, "How can I help you? I want to help you. Please let me help you."  All E could do was cry and say "I don't know. I don't know." 

Jeff Buckley's 'So Real' was playing overhead and the clash of the beauty and chaos in the song was such a perfect soundtrack to what was happening between my child and I, that once I noticed it I started laughing and choked on my tears.

The sight of us must have been quite something, because a homeless man approached us and started giving me advice on how not to talk to my kid. I leaned back to address him and discovered that I had been crowding E, who was shrinking to make themself smaller. I told the gentleman that this was a private conversation and I appreciated his concern but we had things under control. He seemed satisfied and shuffled off. I sat up straight and looked E in the eye. "I see that you are in so much distress and I don't know how to help you."

The man came back. He said, "Did you like the advice I gave you? Did you find it helpful?" Then he held his hand out. I gave him some change from my pocket and looked at E as he walked away.

After a beat, we both burst out laughing.

'So Real' finished on the overhead speaker. I told E, "I will never hear this song again without thinking of this day and this moment."

+++

In the past few days and weeks since E came out to me as transgender, I am seeing more and more glimpses of the goofy, sarcastic and nerdy kid I once knew, from before the anxiety set in and he started to disappear in front of my eyes. This happiness and confidence comes mostly when he's wearing masculine clothes or when a waiter addresses him as a guy. It is in these moments that I know, without hesitation, that this is the right path for E. 

If you could see the splintered soul from last summer compared to the shining spirit that's emerging now, you would have no doubt that this is so real.