A year ago, I had never heard of #ROGD #DIGR. Until I received “the letter”. My 15-year-old son, who has never had any problems with his body or his sex, tells me that he is a girl. When I started reading “the letter” I thought that it was announcing his homosexuality, that it
was going to be liberating, that it was a sign of growth, that we were going to be able to talk about it and that perhaps it was related to his deep depression. That was not what I read. I read the unexpected, the nonsense: I spent years taking care of his childhood and reading
his feelings, his needs. That girl never showed up. As a society, we were living the backlash of child sexual abuse, which taught us that children must be believed, we came back from recognizing that homosexuality should never be questioned or demonized. My progressivism and
familiar identification with the left told me that I should move forward. That I had to recognize what my sweet boy told me. But my instinct began to tell me otherwise. This doesn't fit, it doesn't make sense to me, I can't see it. My love and deep knowledge of this child began
to scream inside me. I could see a boy who didn't want to grow up, a sensitive boy who was terrified of hurting, anxious about social relationships and with practically non-existent self-esteem. Could he be all those things at the same time in a healthy way? The therapists pushed
me to continue, the endocrinologist to hormone, society to accept. Until…the book by @AbigailShrier came into my hands. My heart pounded as I read the testimonials of other mothers. Because I recognized myself. I recognized us. I read @LisaLittman1 @Jose__Errasti
@marcuse99903226 @michelemooreEd met @Amanda_DGIR @genspect @pittparents @P_ROGDK @Transgendertrd @stellaomalley3 @4th_WaveNow What this knowledge gave me was CONFIDENCE I regained confidence in my motherhood, in my common sense, in my ability to observe, in recognizing myself in
charge. I found the thread. Tomorrow marks #ROGDAwarenessDay. #ROGD is not just the description of a phenomenon, knowing of its existence has allowed us to live life honestly again. The honesty I owe myself and my sweet, dear boy. Work in progress ...
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