Raising a “Mold-Breaking” Child

I recently read an article about a mom who finally gave in to her daughter’s insistence to have a “boy’s” haircut.  I read it as if I was talking to someone about my own daughter.  I have gone back and forth about writing that article.  I have refrained out of fear that my daughter will grow up and get mad at me for sharing something so personal about her.  I have put it off so that I may be able to better understand the situation we find ourselves in.  I’ve delayed so that I can iron out my own feelings and pull from her developing personality what she feels she is presenting herself to be.

Gender identity has come into the foreground in the last year or so with one of the most decorated Olympic athletes of all time transitioning from Bruce to Caitlyn Jenner.  I’m not sure if that’s what I’m dealing with with my daughter, though the topic did come up recently in a conversation with a couple of friends. Before I was a parent, I would hear stories of people telling that they knew their child was gay when they were three years old, of musicians knowing that their life calling was to sing at age five, of children who could duplicate Picassos at seven.  I always wondered how someone could be so sure of what the rest of their lives would hold at such a young age?  Especially because I am just know figuring my own self out at 38 with two children and a few career changes.

I told my friends that I knew my daughter did not fit into traditional gender roles when she was two.  Two years old!  She ditched the dresses quick, preferred to wear things that more closely resembled her dad’s clothes and never, EVER! played with dolls.  She would get them as gifts for her birthday and they always stayed in the package, we’ve definitely regifted several of them.  The girl has felt physically uncomfortable in dresses, writhing as if she had flesh-eating insects crawling under her skin.  Forget tights, not once!  She’s an amazing athlete, comes by it honestly as her dad has natural athletic skill.  She plays with the boys at recess because the girls are “lame” and like to play house.

Prior to entering second grade, we went for her annual back to  school haircut.  She has been begging to cut her hair short for a while and insisted on a Faux-hawk.  I called it “donating her hair” (which she did) because of my own uncertainty that this step was really a good idea.  She has been happier since her hair was cut.  She has been mistaken for a boy by every single person that does not know her. It doesn’t bother her one bit but I get a little uneasy correcting people who call her a little gentleman. I’m wondering if I should stop correcting. She’s kind and confident, a smart kid and excellent athlete. She knows what she likes and 99.9% of the time, it’s not dresses and pigtails.

I don’t care that I have a daughter that some people think is my son.  I don’t care that her room is blue or that 90% of the playdates she has are with boys.  I care that, while people are becoming more accepting of differences like her’s, there are still little jerks running around.  Some are just curious kids, wanting to know why she likes to wear boy clothes if she’s a girl.  Some are judgemental little turds that will inevitably give her a hard time for being different.

Every few months we have a talk about her friends, if she’s made any new ones or stopped hanging out with one-time besties.  I gently hint towards wanting to know if anyone is giving her a hard time.   If someone does question why she dresses or looks the way she does, her answer is always the same:  “because I like it.”  Simple as that.  Oh, the things we can learn from our kids!