“My Name is Bridget”
“My name is Bridget.”
Sitting in the therapists office, on the couch with my third born child. It was the first time I heard her tell me her name. I knew she had chosen a name, she just was not ready to share it. The therapist invited me into the office from the waiting room for the final few minutes of the session, at my child's invitation.
It was a monumental step for her and for our family. A few months prior she had shared with her siblings and parents her identity as a trans female. Living into the verbal gymnastics of he-they and now she, was to say the least, challenging. Remembering which pronoun to use in which setting, public private, and those who knew and those who did not. In those early months I messed up more than I got it right. Fortunately my mistakes were behind closed doors and not in public.
Two defining moments for me shaped my relationship with Bridget that to this day inform me about her journey.
Driving down Pineville Matthews road waiting to turn onto Providence Road. I asked her, “As an ally, what questions are safe or okay for me to ask you?” Her response was at first simple and direct, and at the same time profound and wise. “Well, if it’s about me, and my experience you can ask me. If it’s about being an LGBTQ ally, that's for you to read and research on your own. It’s not like I speak for all queer people.” I have taken those words to heart.
A few weeks later, I found myself standing in front of a mirror. I took a long look at myself. Not one of those passing “is my hair okay” or “do I have food in my teeth” moments. One of those lingering longer than comfortable moments. This is how I look to the world. This is me. I thought of my daughter, Bridget. Who does she see when she looks in the mirror? I pictured Bridget standing in front of a mirror. She does not see herself reflected in the mirror. Who she sees, who the world sees, is not who she is on the inside. What must it be like to know yourself, your true self, and not see that reflected in the mirror. A flood of thoughts assailed me. Is this why she wears sweats most of the time? Is this why she does not speak often? Is this why she keeps her head down? Is this why most of her friends are online? She does not want to be seen or heard because it does not represent who she knows herself to be. And then the thought that changed my heart and mind to embracing and affirming.
What if I looked in the mirror and did not see my true self?
The journey continues, for all of us.
